Halari’s garage

“Viria.” Halari turned to her sister and gestured at the glaring empty space where her beloved vehicle usually rested. “Where is my trawler?”

“Uhhh…I had to… steal it,” Viria said, flushing. “I used it to help rally the troops for your rescue.”

“So where is it??” Halari asked. The man looked between them, an amused glint in his eyes. She realized he might not be able to speak, but his presence of mind was definitely on the mend.

“It’s parked near the Center, I swear,” Viria said with an energetic point towards the direction they came from. “We left in a rush; I’ll get it in the morning. Promise.”

“Ughhh,” Halari groaned. “Fine… Just, come in.” She pulled the man into the garage and guided him towards the back where he leaned against her worktable.

“Hala, do you want to explain who this is?” Telero asked, going to stand by the lockers with Fedro. “Did you rescue a prisoner in the Center?”

He’s gonna be so mad, Halari thought, leaning back on the garage door. “Not exactly, Tel. I…” She trailed off, trying to piece the words together. She’d committed the greatest heresy to the Melokide; how exactly was she supposed to tell that to her family?

They all looked at her expectantly. It was clear that there was no getting out of this one, and she could only hope that by the end they wouldn’t disown her entirely.

“I might have… infiltrated the Vault,” she said, then braced herself for the whiplash. “He was inside.”

Her family said nothing, but their reactions betrayed their concern. Telero immediately started rubbing his head like he did when he had fume headache from the gasses in the mines. Fedro groaned like a falling stone, and Viria released a small “Oh.”

“I know you’re probably upset,” Halari said quickly, “but I really thought I’d find something more like food or foam down there.”

“They don’t have any foam, Hala!” Telero said. “They speak truth!”

“Yeaahhhh right, Tel!” Halari snapped, facing her brother with balled fists. “I only did it because you and your priests are giving our food to those freaks in the city!”

Telero paled.

“Yeah,” Halari spat, feeling a sense of satisfaction at his awkward guilt. “You and your priests are nothing but sell outs.”

“Enough,” Fedro sighed, putting up a hand. “Have you figured out who he is?”

“No,” Halari said. The man was silent like usual but looked like he was coming back to reality with each passing second. Strangely enough, he looked exhausted, as if the short walk to the garage had drained him. “But the Melokide freaked out when they saw him. They fired on us in a heartbeat.”

“Son,” Fedro called to the man and snapped his fingers, “can you hear me? What’s your name?”

The man’s eyes drifted over to her father, but otherwise he said nothing.

“I don’t think he understands us,” Halari said. “I tried talking to him on our way out, but he just gave me that same look.”

“Well, we need to get him back to the Va—” Telero’s words cut off when the man straightened up. Everyone went completely still, watching, on edge. The man took a step towards Halari and raised his manacled hands with one of them outstretched as if he meant to grab her.

“Whoa now,” Fedro said, raising himself up, “don’t do anything hasty.”

The man took another step towards Halari, then another. His serpentine eyes fixed on her, piercing her through, as he made his way closer.

I’m dead, Halari thought. Terror bolted down her spine and she pressed herself back into the garage, perception shrinking down to his palm as it grew larger and larger in her view.

Telero didn’t hesitate to lunge with his pickaxe, striking down with a harsh, practiced blow to the man’s head. His tool, all of seventy years old, passed down through two generation, shattered on the man’s skull.

And still, the man walked forward as if nothing happened. Only three steps now. Two. His palm blocked most of her vision as it started to close over his eyes.

All this, everything she did, was about to get crushed under this man’s hand. And why? She wondered then if the Melokide were right, or if they really had tried to protect her and the city.

Fedro shouted, grabbing at the man’s manacles and pulling, but he could not be stopped. Her father yanked uselessly, not even able to redirect the man’s arms from their course. His feet even drug against himself when he lost purchase.

He’s gonna kill me. “Please,” she whispered, mind racing for solutions, but her thoughts scattered like ants before an incoming boot. There was no way out. Her rifle was too far, set against the wall, and his hand… No.

It was too late.

The man’s palm closed over her eyes, middle finger and thumb pressed into her temples. Halari held her breath, waiting for that instant of pain when he crushed her skull like a bad tam.

Instead, she felt a small shock in her mind, just a quick pulse of energy in her head. The man pulled his hands away and lowered them. Fedro was huffing from exertion, and Tel stared dumbly at his pick’s broken haft and shattered chunks strewn about.

The man looked at her, then spoke.

“Do you have…” His voice was raspy, probably from some abhorrent amount of time without using it. “Any water?”

“W-what?” Halari asked. Her whole body shook so hard that the garage door rattled a bit against its frame.

“Water.” The man sagged, looking even more fatigued than before. “Please.”

“V-Viri, there’s a canteen in that locker behind you,” Halari said. “Grab it, please.” Her sister, also shaken and pale, wobbled over and grabbed it from the locker.

“Don’t get near him!” Telero shouted.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man wheezed. He moved back over to his place at the worktable and slumped over. “I just needed… to learn your speech.”

“Give me the bottle,” Halari said, holding out her hand to her sister and trying a reassuring smile. “It’s fine.”

Bottle in hand, Halari slowly approached the man.

“Hala, don’t,” Tel hissed. He looked ready to attack again, even with only a broken piece of mining equipment.

“It’s fine,” Halari insisted. She offered the bottle to him. “What’s your name?”

He looked at her confused. An odd look passed over his face, like he was trying to grab something deep in his mind that fought back and tried to slip away.

“Cal…? Cal-n…” he whispered, eyes widening as he fought for his own name against his mind. “My name… is… Callan.” He took the bottle and chugged it, downing its entire contents in a second. “Thank you.

“I’m sorry… I scared you,” he continued with words that protested at being spoken, like his very tongue was remembering how to move. “but I didn’t know what you…were saying. I had to learn. You don’t speak… English like I know it.”

“You learned our language just from a touch?” Viria asked, stepping closer. Fedro held a handout for her to stop, but she weaved around him to stand next to Halari. “That’s not…”

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“Human,” Telero finished. “You’re not human. Are you?”

Callan shook his head. “Not for a long time.”

Halari gasped when it clicked. His draconic eyes, his impervious stature, his inhuman ability all formed together in one fiery image of absolute truth.

“You’re a Blessed Flame of Melokon,” she whispered in awe. “That’s it isn’t it?”

“I… am,” Callan said. All of them watched with bated breath as he raised his hands and conjured arcs of red and violet lightning in his palms. The sparks rolled between his fingers and snaked around his hands. Then it sputtered out and he sagged even further. “Although I can’t feel the Great Dragon nearby anymore.”

“He’s… gone,” Halari said. When she blinked, spots danced in her eyes from the residual brightness of his lightning. “They’re all gone.”

“What do you mean?” Callan asked, a new look of fear sunk into his features. “What happened to them?”

“They left,” Halari explained. “Centuries ago.”

“Centuries…” Callan looked numb, agonized by this information. Halari pitied him. He’d been down there the whole time, soaking in that horrible darkness for hundreds of years.

She pulled the key to his manacles out of her back pocket and made to unlock him from his binds, but Telero rushed forward in a dash and snatched it from her hands.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, lunging for the key. Her brother backed away, keeping it out of reach.

“Protecting the Quarry,” he said. “Think, Hala, think about it. He’s the only Flame in the world, chained up and buried deep underground where nobody was supposed to find him. Think about what that means.”

Telero glared at Callan with hate in his eyes beyond what Halari thought he was capable of feeling. Her brother was a loving man for all that he bugged her, yet this man before her exuded so much malice that she felt ashamed of having caused such a reaction.

“He’s the Tyrannical Betrayer,” Telero spat, “the Perfect Villain, the Tarnished King, the one who tried to destroy everyth—”

“That’s… that’s… a lie!” Callan huffed, rising to his full height like a heavy wall being pulled into position. “I did not… betray anyone! I… I was betrayed!”

“I will not see you released, demon,” Telero growled. “You’ll burn us to the ground.”

Halari met Callan’s eyes, looking for the truth. All she saw was pain, fear, and exhaustion. No malice, no hint of deception, just genuine frustration and fatigue. He begged her silently, terrified that she would side with her brother and keep him imprisoned.

She made a choice.

“Tel,” she said, “give me the key.”

“No!” Telero barked, glancing towards the door. “Can’t you tell, Hala? He’s already influencing your mind to his goals. All of Jomen’s words warn of his power to deceive so perfectly it makes it sound like your idea.”

“I need you to trust me, Tel,” Halari held out a hand. “I found him, I freed him, so I’ll take responsibility.”

“BOY.” Callan’s voice, suddenly strong and reverberating, buzzed the air. His words pulsed from his mouth in visible, violet-tinged waves that washed over her brother. “GIVE HER THE KEY.”

Her brother’s arm moved automatically and dropped the key into her hand. Once it was hers, Telero screamed and backpedaled away in a terrified scramble to escape. “See?” he yelled. “Don’t you see?”

“I’m… sorry,” Callan whispered, tilting back on to the table like a half-cut tree, “I’m sorry. You’re just being… uncooperative. Please, just… I’m not here to hurt you.”

Halari froze in indecision.

Had she misjudged? Whatever that was… it was terrifying. Telero’s body hadn’t even hesitated to do as ordered once the command was finished. Callan looked regretful, still pleaded with her voicelessly, but did she want to risk it? She believed he wouldn’t hurt her, especially since she rescued him, but was her family safe?

Her brother’s voice unexpectedly sounded in her mind, repeating a line from the book of Jomens. She’d never really paid attention that much, but he’d caught her doing nothing that day and in this moment of choice, she was grateful he had.

‘A Flame’s word is absolute,’ he recited. ‘It burns itself into the very world and cannot be unspoken.’

“I will unlock you,” Halari said, turning to face Callan and lowering the key to his manacles, “but you will promise me to never harm me or my family again. Your word is binding, right?”

He nodded. “I swear, as the First Blessed of Melokon,” Callan said, locking his serpentine eyes to hers. They flashed at his words, like speaking them aloud to her really had done something inside him, and Halari knew that she was right. “Please…”

Halari inserted the key into the hole and twisted. There was a click, then the manacles fell way and clattered to the garage floor. Callan stared down at his arms for a long moment like he didn’t believe they were actually gone, then slowly let his arms fall to his sides, and sighed deeply.

“Better?” Halari asked.

“Yes,” Callan groaned, “thank you.”

I really hope I didn’t just destroy the Quarry, she thought. “You need to stay here for a while, ok? Until things outside settle down.”

“I understand,” Callan said with a slow nod. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a silver ring, which he fixed to his third finger on his right hand. It was a gorgeous piece of jewelry with fine details and a fire-red gem set into the top inside a dragon’s mouth, the body of which seemed to make up the ring. “I’ll stay here until you say otherwise.”

Must be a symbol of his status, Halari thought, eyeing the jewelry. What a specific finger to put that on…

“You’ve really done it this time, Hala,” Telero said, shaking his head. He looked past her with haunted eyes, into something far away. “When the Quarry crumbles, when all of us die, it’ll be all your fault.”

“Oh choke on it and cough, Tel!” Halari shouted, whirling on her brother. “At least I tried something! Instead of just giving our food away to those freaks!”

“Enough!” Fedro barked in his famous pada voice that quieted even the feistiest of tantrums when they were children. “Tonight’s been a lot, I know, but take a breath. We’re not gonna blame each other…” He glared at his eldest. “Or curse at each other.” He quieted Halari’s protests with another harsh look. ‘Now isn’t the time,’ it said.

“We need to figure out what to tell the people,” he continued. “I have a feeli—”

As if summoned, somebody banged on the side door to the garage with a furious rhythm. Fedro held up a hand to signal they silence, then moved to the door himself.

Halari held her breath. It had to be the Melokide come for their prisoner, right? No matter what they said, after their enthusiasm to kill there was no way they’d let Callan go without a fight. She watched Fedro crack the door open and braced herself for a fight.

“Is it just you, Bear?” he asked. Halari exhaled in relief, but her reprieve was short lived. She heard some light grumbles from the big man and a gentle groan of exasperation from Fedro before he closed the door and rubbed the back of his head.

“They’re here,” he said, turning back to them with worry creased onto his already rugged features, like a river deepening its home canyon. “They want to talk to you, Hala.”

“Who?” Halari asked.

“The group that came to help,” Fedro sighed. “The whole group. They want to know what happened.”

“Any chance they can wait ‘til the morning?” she asked, a sudden wave of fatigue washing over her now that the adrenaline of Callan’s misunderstood “attack” was wearing off and the exertions of her infiltration were catching up.

“They’re gonna need something now,” Fedro insisted, grimacing at her obvious discomfort. “To put their minds at ease.”

“What do I even say?” she asked.

Fedro shrugged and Viria shook her head. Telero didn’t even look at her.

“Tell them…” Callan forced out, looking towards the door, “whatever they need to hear.”

What do they need to hear? Halari asked herself, stepping outside to face a large crowd that gathered around the front of her garage. She looked at the faces of her people, which were a gallery of confused, concerned, and downright terrified. They wanted to know why she did what she did, and what she said here would spread through the whole city, bringing either panic, or…

Suddenly, she understood.

Unfortunately, she understood.

They’re not ready, she decided, shame crawling into her skin as the realization settled in. Not yet.

“What’s going on?” more than a few voices called. “Tell us what happened.”

Halari raised her hand, palm out and the people quieted, eager to hear what she wanted to say.

“It’s true that I broke in to the Melokide Center,” she began in a raised voice.

“Why did you do it?” somebody asked. “And did you find anything?”

Halari grimaced. She wanted to bring it all to light; to tell them about the outsiders taking their food, to tell them about the treason of their priests. But her people weren’t fighters. They were craftsmen, farmers, families who just wanted to feed their children, not fight a war.

I’ll find another way, she thought.

“I thought they were hiding some foam,” she said, averting her eyes to the ground. “So I broke in to find it. They don’t have any. What we have is what we got.”

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, and worried looks increased. Halari felt bad about the lie of omission, but this had to be for the best, right? They deserved the truth, but she needed more options first beyond a half-lucid Blessed Flame.

“And the man in chains?” another voice asked. “Who was he?”

“Uhhh…” Halari raced to make an answer. “He’s…”

“An outsider.” Fedro came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder to take the lead in the conversation. “From the little bit we got out of him, he heard about the Vault and thought it was an easy burglary target. The Melokide caught him.”

The throng of people murmured whispers of assent and belief.

“The Melokide promised no retaliation for tonight’s events,” Fedro continued. “So everybody go home. We’re back to work in the morning!”

He turned to her while the crowd dispersed and nodded. “I’m glad you understand.”

“I am going to tell them, pada,” Halari said. “Just when we have something more to work with. But, I’ll be another traitor for now.”