The Flame Keeper

Chapter 4

The afternoon passed easily as I chatted with the three, in between bites of my bread. Dinner soon arrived and we all eagerly gulped down a thick, warm stew, littered with vegetables and our finest lamb meat.

"Oh man, that's gotta be the best stew I've ever eaten," Hank said as he finished his third bowl of stew with a burp. "Enough for a whole week."

I chuckled softly. I had eaten my fill of stew, but my stomach still grumbled for more. Mark was still guzzling down another bowl of soup, his fifth, and he let out a loud belch as he set down the bowl. "Why aren't there any other customers today? I mean, the food's good as far as I can taste it."

"Well," I let out a sigh. "Yesterday, I lost my cool and drove off all the customers. Scared them off, I guess."

"At least you didn't do that today, so... that's an improvement." Mark looked at me emphatically, his dark eyes staring into my soul. "Some customers are annoying, for sure."

He laughed at his statement, realizing what he had just said. "Well, I kind of lost my temper today. Sorry 'bout that."

"It's fine. We all have our lousy days."

"Hey, Wallace, we'll be sure to recommend the restaurant. Least we can do for letting us stay here tonight." Hank gave me a crooked smile, which I returned.

"That would be great." I said, "Where are you coming from, anyways?"

"The Capital," Aurora muttered. "It was mayhem the last time we were there."

Hank nodded gravely. "The flame keeper supposedly went insane and fled. With the flame."

"I'm not sure I follow..." I trailed off, recalling the stranger's words. ...he's in danger.

"Well, I suppose living in a small town, you don't get much news."

I bobbed my head in agreement. Only occasionally did people stop by our town and pass on some news, but otherwise, seldom was there talk about anywhere else. Or the capital, for that matter. If it didn't affect us, it didn't matter.

"This is common knowledge to almost everyone, but I'll give you a rundown. About a decade and a half ago, after some lucky miner in Hortrum found a flame, they switched to spark power and finally, there wasn't any more stupid vapor getting dumped into the air," Hank explained. "Within a year, everything ran on it: transportation, technology, you get the point. It was tons better than hydro, but hella expensive."

I nodded. I had known that so far.

"And that's where the flame keeper comes in," Mark interjected, looking up from his soup. "A flame itself can power this block for about a millennium, but the rate it releases sparks is way too slow to support a large city like the capital. More area, more energy, right?" I nodded slowly and he continued.

"Someone has to speed the process up—at the cost of the time the flame lasts, of course. But it's a dangerous thing, the flame. You take up the suicide mission, you're in for life."

I shuddered at the thought. I wasn't surprised though; the capital was an entirely different world, filled to the brim with things I couldn't begin to understand. And the spark power they ran on was stranger than I could have ever imagined.

One thing still hung on to my mind though, that the stranger had mentioned this father of mine was the flame keeper. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my mind, a little voice battled with my sanity, urging me to say yes, that it was true.

"After the flame keeper and the flame vanished, the Guild kicked us out after taking pity on us for a few years. They claimed they didn't have the funding. We stayed for a year or two in the capital, working odd jobs, but jobs weren't plentiful. So we packed what little we had and hopped on the first train we saw." Hank sighed. "I wouldn't say I regret leaving—capital life was beyond arduous and pro-hydro riots were increasing—but we had something worth doing: hunting and scavenging for the Guild. Aurora got her best kill back then. Clean fifty yards."