Steps of the Temple

Callan groaned inside and sighed lightly as Halari’s brother approached the landing of the Temple’s steps. He wore a dark expression full of rage and hatred in his very steps. His friends, all looking similarly displeased, even agitated. They shuffled about watching their ringleader for what do, but it seemed at the moment they were just to provide Telero some support. He studied them closely, spying no weapons which was a relief.

“Stand up!” Telero called to his people, stomping up the steps and turning to them. “Do not bow before this creature! Don’t you know who he is? He is the Betrayer! He brings ruin to all!”

“Tel!” Halari hissed. “What’re you doing?”

“Trying to save our people,” Telero said firmly, hitting her with a glare. Callan grudgingly gave him credit for holding firm to his beliefs; it took a certain type of zealot to stand against his own family for his religion. “If this can’t be avoided like I wanted then at least I can stop it.”

“We know the truth, boy,” Bear said, not moving from his place on the ground. He looked at Telero with the sad eyes of a man that Callan knew believed what he had seen and now suffered a new reality that had turned the big man’s understanding of the old world on its head. “We know what the Old Flames really did.”

“From what?” Telero asked. “The fiend’s fabricated lies?”

“There’s video, son,” Fedro said, moving to the front of the crowd. Halari’s father looked grim, but he nodded at Callan with a new kind of respect… and hope. “And I… believe it. The Visionary abandoned us.”

I will fix this, Callan thought. But first, he needed to get this settled. Telero stood with determination, unmoving on a solid foundation of resolve and piety. He felt annoyed at how fast dissidence revealed itself to him, but for now, it seemed to have only one loud voice.

“The Visionary is coming back!” Telero cried. He faced the crowd, lifting his head defiantly to their sounds of disagreement. “All he asked is that you keep faith in his promise!”

“Listen to me,” Fedro stepped up to his eldest and put a hand on his shoulder. “There was no promise.”

Telero glared at his father with a new kind of venom and Callan tensed, readying to intervene if the boy let his religious faith get the better of his actions. Instead of lashing out, Telero shook off his father’s hand and whirled on him.

“What kind poison have you put in their heads?” Telero asked. His own hand were balled into fist now, but Callan knew that the boy would sooner break his hands before actually hurting him at all.

“Truth from your own priests,” Callan said. “No different than I was shown just hours ago.”

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“Lies,” Telero growled. “You had made it in advance, didn’t you? Tell them.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Tel,” Halari groaned. “How could Callan even prepare a history he knew nothing about?”

“It’s fabricated, all of it,” Telero said, throwing his hands up in the air.

“It was too much, Telero,” Old Bear said, standing. The people followed him up, probably getting tired of keeping their knees on the hard ground. “All too real, too genuine. And from the Melokide themselves… the Great Flame would’ve needed weeks to make this.”

Surrounded on all sides. Callan saw the moment Telero faltered. The young man’s shoulders sagged just a bit for a quick moment before he flared back to indignation.

“He is the Tyrant!” Telero yelled to the people, face reddening. “Isn’t that enough!”

“We need help!” some people called back. “We need foam! He’s giving us food!”

Callan decided it was time to play the trump card. He hadn’t planned to use it to turn the people away from an opposing voice so much as fully bring them under his command, but if leading meant anything, it was being able to work with the circumstances.

“Food is not the only thing I can provide,” Callan said loudly, nodding to Halari. She handed him a single dead Cell from her pocket, which he held up for the entire crowd to see. This one was actually smithed into a shape so that the charge flowed to its poles. “I have been informed that your tools, your vehicles, your very city is powered by these Flame Cells. I have also been informed that your stores have been depleting for years and that soon you will run out entirely.” He grinned softly. “And I tell you now, you have nothing to fear.”

He channeled Melokon’s Fire, directing it from his heart and into the cell. Its black lines, swirling neatly up and down in parallel order, lit up violet-crimson as it filled to a complete charge.

A collective gasp went up from the crowd.

“As the First Blessed Flame of Melokon,” Callan said, “I can recharge all Flame Cells for total use in the Quarry as well as restarting trade with your neighbors.”

He smiled inside at their wide eyes and enthusiastic whispers, glad to see something resembling eagerness and drive settle into each and every one of them. Telero was smart enough to realize that this was the end of his battle here, at least for now. He shook his head and rubbed at his temples, then stood before Callan and glared, but said nothing.

“I am going to save these people,” Callan said, fixing Telero. “Do you really want to stop me?”

“I will!” The young man bared his teeth in a scowl, then turned on his heel and stormed off. Callan watched him round up his small crew of friends, then disappear somewhere in the city.

“What should we do, Great Flame?” Old Bear asked. Callan studied the man carefully. His large frame bore many old, faded scars along his shoulders and neck, but whatever for battle he used to have was more of a cold burn now.

“For now,” Callan said to the people, “continue on as you would. For those who wish to fight for your home, you will be trained beginning in two days. For those who wish to see more outside of this Quarry and find more resources, Halari and I will be leading an expedition into the Ruins tomorrow. By my order, the desolated city is no longer sanctified. Volunteers are most welcome.”

The people talked among themselves, some cheered, others clapped, and some… Callan grimaced at the sight of a few citizens scowling at him and drifting away in the direction that Telero went. There weren’t many thankfully, just a handful of loners.

The skull in the darkness smiled at him. It remembered, even if he pretended not to. ‘More traitors,’ it whispered. ‘How will you take care of them this time around? Maybe it’s best if you ju—”

No! Callan banished the cold murmurs from his mind. “Return home! Tell those who could not make it today that their world is changing. Then tomorrow, the Mission begins.”