Act One: Materia Prima - Chapter 7

The man felt tranquility. The fire inside his chest did not bother him anymore. It was welcoming. Like coming home from a day of school as a child. True warmth. So long ago.

He saw Hrain. She sat on a woolen blanket. In front of a bright flame. It burned upon some kind of altar. Large carved stone slabs. Dark gray. Piled up. Discarded lamps were strewn across the floor. Hundreds.

Hrain talked to the flame. Gestured in its direction. Agitated.

“…my fault and Hlout doesn’t allow me to search for it. She doesn’t allow me to go near the veiled parts anymore. But without it I can’t show him what he is looking for.”

It was like the flame faced him. Weary eyes somewhere deep in its core. Gazing at him. The fire in his chest. The flame spoke to the girl in a soft voice. Like the dying light of a candle. It told Hrain that the man had followed her. In search of secrets. Certainly. That it could not help them without their help first. The flame coughed up soot. Spoke of its fading warmth. That they would need to return something to it. That it would even share its secrets with them. Voluntarily.

Hrain did not listen to the voice from the fire anymore. Since the flame had mentioned the man. She looked at him with surprise. These wide eyes again. And then the smile. The flame still tried to get her attention. But.

“How did you find me? Did you cross the labyrinth on your own? I need to know!”

The flame weakly croaked in disproval. He told her about his encounter with Falsk. Asked what Hrain was doing here. What this place was. What the flame was. It flickered indignantly.

“This is the old hearth. I came here to help you. The flame was always here. It is full of secrets. Some it told me. Some it does keep to itself. I want to know everything, and I want to help you. You have lost something. You need to find it, right?”

Something he did loose? What loss did he care about? Sometimes loss was final. For the things that mattered to him it has always been like this. What it was he had lost eluded him though. There laid darkness upon parts of his mind. Lightless past.

He told Hrain that he was here to return her home. That he just wanted to find the mountains. All the help he needed. The flame interjected. Told him that the girl had no home he could return her to. That it could lay bare the inner workings of this world. Help him reach his goal. It spoke of dreamless sleep.

“There is no sleep in this world. Don’t listen to what the fire tells you on its own! You must force the truth out of it!”

He was confused. What did the flame want from him? What did Hrain want from him? Was this his subconsciousness manifest or something else? Did he want to play along? Or just break through this play and force an untimely resolution. It was all so tiresome.

“I’m sorry. Don't overburden yourself. You did enough.”

He did not.

“I’m sure we will unravel everything about this in time. Maybe we should just return to the house for now. Would you like that?”

She looked at him. Pleading. Yes. He would like that. The flame hissed softly. Scolded him for his indecisiveness. That he would need to do the heavy lifting. That he could not pass on the burden of this story to the girl.

Hrain looked sad. He faced her. Told her that it would be okay. That he would push on. That everything would be okay. There was hurt in her eyes. It reminded him of something and it pierced his heart. He felt guilt. Way too much. He did not want to dwell on it.

“It’s okay. Just let’s return. I want to go back now. I’m hungry.”

He swallowed his feelings and nodded. Slowly. Hrain looked away. They left the tent. The voice from the fire reminded him of the peace he sought. Its voice slowly fading away.

Not a word was spoken. Hrain walked slightly ahead of him. Did not give him a glance. The whole way. Through the charred gray. The heat stifling. Once again.

They reached the green hills again. She stopped. Did not turn yet. He did not come closer. Waited. Sorrow clouded his past. Shame. About what? He did not want to know.

“Where did you come from? It is like I know you. But I don’t. And where did I come from?”

She turned. Right hand on her left arm. Head bowed.

“I need to know everything!”

Hrain looked up. For a moment she looked like she was somewhere else. Intense determination in her eyes. Then her smile was back. She relaxed. Tilted her head to the left.

“What?”

Her tone defiant.

“Come on, let’s race back to the house. Whoever is first gets the dessert of the other!”

No time for him to speak out. She just ran. He? He did too. For a few steps. They both noticed Falsk. Sitting at the pond. Splashing her feet in the water. The smaller girl had a mischievous smile on her lips. Looked at Hrain. Then him.

“Well, did the two runaways have a good time? The feast is drawing closer. What were you doing out there?”

Hrain hopped from one foot to the other. Twiddled her thumbs.

“Hmm, I think someone is too young to know about the gray parts. It’s really scary out there, Falsk. I'll tell you when you're no longer just up to my chin.”

Falsk crossed her arms. Looked to the side. Eyes closed. Seething with anger.

“Bah! You two cretins can keep your secrets! Just remember it was me who showed him how to reach you. Silly goose!”

Hrain laughed. She hopped closer to Falsk. Hugged the offended girl from behind. Falsk squirmed. Pretended to be fighting off an attacker. They giggled.

“Come on, Falsk. Race me to the house. Our desserts are at stake. It's all or nothing!”

Hrain lifted Falsk up. Set her down. Picked up the woolen bag. The smaller girl shot off like an arrow. Hrain rushed after her. The man? He felt a bit more at ease again. Walked up the path. Back to the house. Calm. As if he had all the time in the world.