His father was covered in sweat, his well-worn body glistening in the lamplight through the gaps in his ragged clothing. His eyes were a deeper shade of gold than Alistar’s, or at least they seemed so at first glance. Alistar had been told that it was because of his mother’s silver irises that his appeared to have a lighter sheen, for about a third of the colouration in his eyes had been inherited from his mother.
“I’m sorry, Father,” he said, knowing that he was beat. He looked down to the ground with a saddened face. He didn’t like upsetting his father, but exploring the tunnels was much more fun than watching the grownups work.
His father paused and parted the sweaty hair that clung to the skin around his eyes, his face loosening after staring at Alistar for a moment. If he were to clean it, his father’s hair would the same shade as his and Kaila’s, a light, honey brown.
“Alistar.” His father bent down and rested a big hand on his shoulder. “It isn’t safe to go off alone. Mama and Papa get worried when you run off, and so do Uncle Kaisus and Aunty Shail. How are we to apologize to them each day when this restless son of ours drags their daughter off every time they turn their heads?”
He glanced at either side of him, unable to meet his father’s gaze. He broke this rule quite often, almost daily, in fact. His mother and uncle hadn’t stopped to greet him. If they did then the nearby guards would grow angry. Only with his father would they show some restraint, but depending on the guards, it was often short lived.
“I’m sorry, Father,” Alistar repeated. “I wo—”
“End of the line, Sim!”
One of the three nearby guards pointed down the working line.
Although he was short, the man had shoulders as broad as Alistar’s uncle’s and arms as strong as his father’s. A thick beard of orangey-red outlined several scars where patches of his hair were missing. A detestable smile formed on his chewed up lips after he spoke. Not all of the guards liked Alistar’s father. Some of them often referred to him as ‘Sim,’ in a manner that made Alistar feel as if they were bullying him. He didn’t like those guards. They were always sending his father as far away from the rest of the family as possible. At least, that’s what it seemed like.
Of all the guards, this man was the worst. Alistar had once overheard his parents muttering about how the man was not obligated to oversee their labour, but sometimes took it upon himself to personally keep an eye on their family.
Begrudgingly, his father hefted up his pickaxe and rested it on his shoulder. He then emptied the weakly glowing contents of his collection box into Alistar’s mother’s box. “Remember to listen to your mama, Alie,” he whispered as he walked past him, “and you can call me Papa every now and again, you know.” He followed the guard down the line, a bitter smile on his face as he looked back at his family.
The other two guards looked at Alistar’s family with hesitation before following after his father and the guard who led him away. A minute or two passed before his mother glanced over her shoulder, making sure that his father and the guards were well down the line. She dropped her pickaxe next to the small wooden crate that she’d half-filled with various crystals and gemstones. The walls of the tunnel were lined with glittering objects that were embedded into the rock. In a year this tunnel would be twice its current size or abandoned, without the slightest glow in sight.
“Oh, Alie, how you’ve made your mama worry.”
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His mother buried him in her arms with a sigh of relief, her evident stress visibly evaporating. Her auburn hair was tousled and knotted, and there were bags beneath her gentle eyes. Alistar thought that his mother was beautiful, but she had been looking very tired recently. His uncle spared him a relieved glance, pouring some of the contents of his crate into his mother’s box, just as his father had done.
His uncle looked a lot like his father, with the same light brown hair and golden eyes, but he was taller, broader in the shoulders and rougher in the face. His beard was also more voluminous and noticeably untidy in comparison to his father’s orderly facial hair. Alistar knew that his father didn’t shave, but the hair never seemed to grow past a certain point.
“In the end, he is Rodei’s son,” his uncle sighed with his deep voice.
“That’s exactly the problem,” his mother frowned. She fixed his uncle with a stern look. “He’s just like his father was in his youth. For some reason, he just can’t remain still in one place.” She turned on him. “This recklessness, you sure didn’t get it from me.”
It was at that moment that she noticed the dried blood on his right arm. “Alie! What happened?”
“I fell down,” he admitted.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she rubbed the dried blood from his arm with her clothing. He followed her gaze, seeing a silvery scar stretching along his upper arm where there should have been a thin cut. His uncle turned his head and regarded him with a quizzical look.
“Your arm…” his mother whispered. It was then that she noticed the flower in his right hand. She squinted for a moment, then went as still as the surrounding stone. Her eyes widened with intense focus and her mouth hung agape, disbelievingly. He had never seen her make such a face.
“Alie, what’s that you’re holding?”
He held the flower up for her to see. “It’s a flower! I found it while exploring with Kaila.”
Withdrawing her head quickly, his mother now had the same look about her as Kaila had taken on before entering the crevice. She looked frightened. Before he could ask what was wrong, she slapped at his hand with stinging force. He dropped the flower and cringed, retracting his hand in shock. His surprise quickly turned into dejection. She had never hit him before.
Why would Mama hit me? Did she not like the flower?
Before he could react, she set to digging a small hole and guided the flower in with her pickaxe. She refilled the hole with dirt and patted it down frantically. He noticed that she had made sure not to touch the flower.
“Alie. Was there a stone on that flower? It would have been glowing, brighter than these crystals.” She spoke quickly and with wild eyes, beaded sweat lining her forehead. How did she know about the stone? She hadn’t seemed to like the flower, so there was a good chance that she wouldn’t like the stone either. He didn’t want her to bury the stone.
“No,” he lied. Although it hurt lying to his mother, the stone was the single possession that he could call his own. He didn’t want to throw it away.
She touched her palm to his forehead, glancing down at the feint glow of his bracelet, which had momentarily flared up again. His uncle, who hadn’t seemed to recognize the flower, watched them intently. He too was staring down at his bracelet, not with a look of worry but with a look of surprise.
“Raidon,” his mother whispered. “How old was Rodei when he came into his energies?”
His uncle considered for a moment. “A bit earlier than most. Just before his Name Day, if I’m remembering correctly.”
“This is unheard of.” His mother frowned. “Alie isn’t a day past seven.”
His uncle observed the long line of workers, their shadows dancing as they laboured away at the massive deposits of crystals embedded in the earth. “It’s a shame…” Seeing that the guards who had escorted his father away were drawing near, his uncle returned to his labouring.
“Alie,” his mother said seriously. She put her hands on his shoulders. “Forget about that flower. Never speak of it again. If by some chance you ever find another, then no matter what, do not touch the stone at its centre. Please, dear, just promise me that.”
He didn’t understand, but he promised.
After saying that, his mother returned to her work as well. Her peculiar behavior had made him uncomfortable and he didn’t know what to make of the situation. He sat in the dirt, watching his mother and his uncle work until the sounds of the distant work bells reverberated throughout the tunnels. He rested his hand over the spot where the stone was hidden beneath his clothing, thinking of the secret that only Kaila and he now shared.
His mother didn’t sleep well that night.