Smoke, thin as a whisper, trails from Moto's skin. The air grows cold, but it's a nervous chill, not a change in the atmosphere. The words stick in his throat. He'd been asked, pushed, but he isn't a man who speaks his grief easily. It's a weight he's carried for so long, a secret that feels more like shame.
"What about you?" he asks, the sudden deflection a quick, practiced move. His eyes flicker to the bandage on Asher's arm. "You and... Kangetsu."
Asher's expression is unreadable, but his touch is firm as he places a hand on Moto's shoulder. "We can talk about that later." The unspoken message is clear: Now is not the time to run. He already knows and recognizes the bandage, but he respects the pain that needs to be faced. Asher: "Look, pretending it never happened won't heal you. Let it out."
Moto takes a slow, steadying breath. "It's not that simple," he says, but then he closes his eyes. He is no longer in this room. He is back in Gehen.
It was a world away from here. Not the hellscape it is now, but a quiet, living oasis. He remembers his father, Choto, telling them stories of when the land was so beautiful that people came from all over to see it. It was a haven, once. But Trymore, the "keeper of peace," settled there. His reputation drew bounty hunters, assassins, and bandits hoping to claim his bounty. As the number of his enemies grew, so did the danger, until they outnumbered the true Gehenites like my father's family. Choto, my father, gathered the few good men left, and they rose against the bad players who were filling the land.
"The only way in or out was by train," Moto explains, his voice flat. "The fee to enter Gehen was cheap, but it cost a thousandfold to exit. The train's high-voltage systems protected it against the Terrors outside. Without the fare, you were trapped. A one-way ticket to hell."He pauses, the silence hanging heavy. His hands are in his lap, the knuckles white.I have to start at the beginning, he thinks. With the family.
My father was Choto, a leader among the natives. He saw the spark in me, the way the fire coiled just beneath my skin. He was a proud man, a passionate speaker, and he'd host rallies for the few who still wanted to reclaim Gehen. I loved to be with him, to feel the energy in the crowd. I'd even jump on the podium sometimes, and my brother Blaze would keep order. I'd use my fire to prove myself, to feel that I was part of the fight.
My skin wasn't like Asher's. My flames would burn me. They'd singe my skin and cause a searing pain, and my mother couldn't stand it. My name, I told you it means "fire," but her nickname for me was Tomoshi, which meant "light." I would still sneak out, though, and Blaze would train me despite everyone's disapproval. Asher, though being the eldest, wasn't nearly as powerful as he is now. He couldn't manipulate flames like we could, so he stayed with mother and would report Blaze and I to her unlit she kept me by her side and stayed indoors. I remember her beautiful black hair like Amber's, and she wore gold ornaments she had made herself. My mother was my anchor. She taught me to lower the intensity of my flames, to be a light, not a fighter.
Moto rubs his eye, a faint smile on his lips. "I even miss her terrible cooking," he says. The fleeting moment of humor vanishes, and his expression turns grim. Then Trymore died.
"He died of old age," Moto explains, his voice grim. "He had kept Gehen's Hwange ore with him. When he passed, the bandits, assassins, foreigners, and even some natives immediately erupted in a chaotic war over the ore and control of Gehen."
The world shattered, our home in the middle of the chaos. Father and Blaze stood in the doorway, their backs to us. Their bodies were a shield. I wanted to help, to fight, to be a man and protect my family, but my father kept pushing me back inside. I resisted. The shouts of the crowd grew louder.
"I can't hold them any longer!" Blaze yelled. I heard a wet, sickening thud. The world slowed. I saw my father fall, his head severed from his body. Blood splashed onto my face. I looked to my brother, and I watched as the crowd tore him apart, trampling over him. I froze. I was so young, and I couldn't move. All the fire inside me was gone, replaced by a cold, numb fear.
Asher sped over, grabbed me, and pulled me into our underground bunker. All I could do was hug mother as tightly as I could, as my body trembled. We came out hours later, when the noise died down. We had lost everything. Our mother, pregnant with a new life, looked at us, her eyes hollowed by grief. "As soon as this baby is born," she said, her voice raw, "take her and leave. Never look back."
When Amber was born, Tinashe was there. Our mother gave her the two gold hair clips from her hair. "Give these to her when she's older," she said, her voice a ghost. She gave Asher the family's life savings, enough fare for only two. She told us to go.
The train station was chaos. The conductor saw us—Asher, Tinashe, me, and a newborn baby girl. Tinashe had her own fare, but he wouldn't let Amber on the train. She was too young, and there wasn't enough money for her ticket. Asher stepped forward. He gave Amber to me, hugged me, and with a silent nod to Tinashe, he turned away. As the train pulled away, Asher leapt onto it, unable to let his remaining family leave without him, their only protector as they headed into the unknown. However, I saw a bright flash and heard a loud crackle. The high voltage system, designed to rip through monsters, blasted Asher. My heart raced, but Tinashe held my hand and told me he would be ok, her eyes filling with tears. The train rattled on. On the way out, it passed through the Valley of Terrors. I had to get Amber to safety.
I had to get to Pasi. I had no idea if Asher would ever follow. I was terrified. Amber's cry cut through my fear. She was scared too, as the Terrors bashed the windows, the bolts of electricity stripping them off the train. I have her my hand to hold, hunching over to shield her from the sight. She looked at me with mother's eyes, my sense of duty and responsibility trumped my own fear. I put on a brave face and kept calm through the rest of the journey. When we arrived, we had nothing. Tinashe told me to never tell that we're from Gehen. We sought refuge at the Square Temple. They clothed and fed us. However, Asher was still missing. From the second day, Tinashe would go to the train station and wait for Asher. She spent the day there and would return to us at night.
One day, as she waited, she saw him, alive, limping to the station. After he was electrocuted, he fought his way through the Valley for a week. The electric shock, the battles, the sheer pain of it all—it pushed a metamorphosis. He emerged with his new abilities—fire and heat synergy, amplified by the electric surge. Raw, brutal. I don't know how he did it, but he did. He showed up one day, bruised and bloody, with white eyes. He'd done it. He'd crossed the Valley of Martyrs and found us. He did it for me. For us.
After Asher found us, we finally settled down. But I blamed myself. If I hadn't insisted on going out there, if I hadn't distracted them while they tried to push me back inside, maybe they would have made it. My fire felt like a curse, a power that had only brought pain. So I suppressed it. I smothered it until the flames turned to smoke, a weak, fleeting wisp of what it was supposed to be. I had a new duty now: to protect Amber. Two brothers were left to protect the family. I needed to get stronger, but in a different way. Asher saw it. He believed in me, even when I didn't. He took me to Nyika, where I could learn to make the best of my smoke and perfect my hand-to-hand combat. He knew I needed a new way to fight, a new way to be strong. Moto finishes, his voice a low hum. The others are silent, caught in the wake of his story. The weight of the world seems to have shifted. It is now on all of their shoulders.