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Galo had never grown out of the ‘I want to be a firefighter’ phase a lot of children had. He would immediately shut down any attempt to get him to even think about going into any other profession. He knew what he was going to do and no one was going to change his mind. The need to rescue people from out-of-control flames was etched into his bones like magical runes. It burned in the fire of the Promare that had been with him from the first moment of consciousness in this new body.
He wasn’t sure if the Promare whose fire always warmed him from the inside was a gift from the long-gone Burnish or a curse for not being able to save them (to save Lio). Galo chose to believe it was a gift. Proof that his memories were real and not a symptom of something deeply wrong in his brain.
Everyone had forgotten the Burnish. All anyone knew was that Kray Foresight (stupid, heartless murderer!) had saved them from a doomed world by bringing them to this one. Only Galo remembered that people had once burned with eldritch flames.
He could hear the whispers Lio had talked about (burn, burn, burn!), but he knew it wasn’t the Promare wanting to hurt people. It just needed to burn like the sun needed to burn. It needed an outlet for its energy. Cooking and the occasional afternoon spent in his room alone trying to make things out of his flames seemed to be enough.
He was always extremely cautious when working with his Promare. Mindful of the damage his fire would cause if he was careless. Galo had never once accidentally burned anything. (That time with his school assignment about the Saviour Kray Foresight didn’t count. That was totally on purpose.)
His mother caught him talking to it once. Galo had completely taken over the kitchen as soon as he was deemed old enough to cook without supervision. He used his own fire when he could be sure no one was around to see.
Today, his mother was at the kitchen table reading a document on her tablet. She was so quiet he had forgotten she was there.
“I never found out what his favourite food was,” Galo mused to his constant companion. He and Lio had known each other for only a short amount of time, but the leader of the Mad Burnish had made more of an impression on him than anyone else ever had. His absence was a cold emptiness in Galo’s heart that the Promare’s heat couldn’t touch.
“What was that, honey?”
Galo paused. Oops. He was stirring the pasta on the stove, waiting for it to be ready. “What?”
“You just said something?”
“I was talking to myself, Mum. Are you reading a book?” Change the subject. Always a foolproof plan!
Galo heard the tablet set down on the table. He turned his head enough to see that all of his mother’s attention was now on him. She had that look on her face she got when she was really worried about him.
This was not good. Galo made a valiant effort to project vibes of ‘I’m great! Everything’s cool!’. He wished Lio was here. Lio was so smart. He would know exactly the right thing to say or do to provide the best distraction! Having parents was awesome, but sometimes they noticed things Galo would really rather they didn’t.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about, honey. Who’s Lio?”
Galo’s bright smile faltered. Hearing Lio’s name coming out of someone else’s mouth felt like icy hands on his very soul. He didn’t like it. Not when Lio wasn’t here.
“Lio?” he asked, feigning ignorance. Maybe she was talking about someone else who just happened to have the same name. (This might be, he realised, the first time he had spoken That Name aloud to anyone since waking up as what might very well be this world’s first Burnish.)
“I came in to your room last night to put your clothes away. You were having a nightmare and talking in your sleep. I was going to wake you up, but then you settled down and I thought it was better to let you sleep. You know you don’t have to hide it if something’s wrong, honey. We can talk about anything.”
“What…” He swallowed, not sure he wanted to know the answer to this question. “What did I say?” And how long had he been talking in his sleep?
Galo tasted a strand of the pasta. He decided it was done and turned the stove off.
“You were crying and calling for someone called Lio. You also…well, you had some rather uncomplimentary things to say about the Saviour.”
Galo felt his ears heat up. The fire inside him smouldered restlessly at the mention of Kray. ‘Rather uncomplimentary things’ was probably the understatement of the year. ‘Vehement curses and accusations’ was probably more accurate. He routinely dreamed about Kray and all the things he’d say to him if he ever had the chance. (The things he’d do, but never actually do because Lio wouldn’t approve.)
“You know we can talk about anything, honey,” his mother reminded him. “You’re not in trouble.” ‘I love you and want to help you’ went unsaid, but hung in the air between them.
“I don’t want to talk about it! Lio’s a friend who’s gone now.” Maybe giving her that tiny tidbit of truth might make her ease up for now.
Lio. Where are you? I want you to show me how to make a dragon! I want to fly on a dragon made out of Burnish flames because that would be so awesome, but I can’t figure out how to do it!
“How long ago did this happen, Galo?” his mother asked. “I don’t remember any friends named Lio. I thought I knew all of your friends.”
Galo flinched. You do. The ones I have this time, anyway. He hated keeping secrets from his parents, but he didn’t want them to decide he was crazy or dangerous, either. Keeping secrets had always been a necessity in this life.
Really, it was a miracle he had managed to hide everything for this long.
“Okay,” his mother said. “I can see how upsetting this is for you. I just want to understand and help. You don’t have to deal with things on your own, Galo. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help. Your family loves you and we’ll always be here for you.”
“I know that, Mum. I love you, too.” He had spent years waiting for the day when everything would change and he would find himself alone (or, even worse, in the hands of someone like Kray). That day had never come and it was only recently that he had begun to think it might never.
Galo had family and friends. He would have his favourite job soon when he became a firefighter. He had plans! First he was going to find Lio, because Lio was out there somewhere. He had to be. Making a scene as a Burnish (while being very careful not to hurt people, of course!) should catch his attention. Then he was going to find some way to get the truth of what Kray had done out there. The Burnish deserved better than for their unwilling sacrifice to be completely forgotten.
He turned to look at his mother. “Please, Mum, just trust me! Everything will be fine, I promise!”
His mother agreed and Galo went back to preparing dinner, but he could see how reluctant she was. This wouldn’t be the last conversation they had about it. The next one would most likely involve his father as well.
Burn, burn, burn.
Galo let the tiniest of flames, almost invisible, form on his fingers. His Promare hummed happily.
We can do better this time, Lio. I know we can!