by Hawke Oakley
“Halo, why did you kill that man?”
12
Halo
The rays of the dying sun basked the edge of Cinderhollow’s mountains in a rich gold. The peaks and slopes seemed to extend forever, disappearing beyond the horizon.
I let out a slow breath, watching as it materialized in the cool air in front of me. I held out a hand. Nothing stood between my body and the outside world - no boundary between Cinderhollow and everyone else except for the abstract ones in our minds.
But I knew that had been changing, too.
Probably because he didn’t want to worry me, but Kass wouldn’t tell me much about it. It didn’t matter because I saw the look on his face, and the concerned expressions between him and Commander Sterling. Something bad was happening outside our tribe. The Knights were tense, and not just because I made a couple fireballs in public - although I’m sure that didn’t help.
The air grew thick, electrified. I sensed it. We were on the precipice of change.
And the fact that I didn’t know what exactly that change was frightened me.
I sat down on a rocky outcrop and closed my eyes, feeling the cool mountain breeze caress my skin. Kass was anxious earlier when he told me not to return too late. He knew something was wrong, too. Kass’s alpha Knight friends probably thought he was weak for letting me run off on my own. But we both knew better. They were the weak ones - too controlling over their omegas to realize we’re our own people, not servants to some alpha overlords.
I couldn’t fault other omegas, especially ones without magic. But I would never let myself be controlled. Powerful magic ran through my veins, and I’d always have it to defend myself.
And Kass, of course, I thought warmly. He might be a Knight, and they might hate magic, but he’ll protect me no matter what.
Determined and angry, I stood. The Knights had poisoned the minds of Cinderhollow’s people, making them believe magic was evil. I knew the real reason. They were jealous, and afraid to lose their control. The magic in the blood of other omegas - though not as powerful as my own - was enough to make alphas insecure, and the alphas without magic were intimidated by alpha mages. It was simple. Anyone could see that if they weren’t too busy believing all the Knights’ lies.
Magic was only a tool, just like everything else. Maybe the Knights didn’t want it ending up in the wrong hands. On the other hand, it was also a blessing. But none of them could see that.
And I was the only one who could prove them wrong.
I took a deep breath, remembering what Sterling said earlier.
I’m not a fan of magic myself, but it would be convenient to have something like that protecting us from the outside.
I couldn’t help but smirk. Sterling didn’t like magic, but I was about to blow her mind. I imagined the expression on her face when she would realize what I’d created with the magic she hated so much.
I ran a hand over my belly, slightly larger than before but not quite heavy yet. Unimaginable power sparked in my blood. My magic pulsed like a living organism, ready to be unleashed; like a taut string tightened to the edge of breaking.
It was now or never.
I shook myself, shut my eyes and gathered my concentration.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
The sudden unfamiliar voice startled me. Sparks from my heightened concentration flew off my fingertips. The stranger watched them fall. He was taller than me, with broad shoulders and slick black hair. Handsome in a mysterious way. An alpha.
“Magic,” he murmured. “Coming from an omega.”
I froze. I didn’t recognize the man.
“Who are you?” I asked firmly.
He smiled. “You must be… Halo, is it?”
My shoulders tensed. I didn’t like the fact that a stranger knew my name.
“Are you from Cinderhollow?” I asked.
He didn’t move. “No.”
Dread crawled up my spine. The man hadn’t made any effort to attack, or even move in my direction, but something still unnerved me. Magic pulsed at my fingertips. Feeling that rush of energy in my blood settled me a bit. At least I could defend myself if I had to.
“You didn’t answer my question,” the man said, still smiling.
“What?”
“Your name. It’s Halo Fire-Eater, is it not?”
My skin prickled uneasily. “Why?”
The man chuckled. “It’s not every day I get to meet a celebrity.”
That piqued my interest enough for me to loosen some tension from my shoulders. “A celebrity? Me?”
“Of course. Even outside Cinderhollow, we all know of the omega mage Halo Fire-Eater. You’re a legend.”
My cheeks flushed from pride and I stood a little straighter. “Oh. I see. But how did you know it was me?”
He gestured to my head and hands. “Beautiful golden hair and eyes, and magic showering from your fingertips.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t help blushing deeper when he called me beautiful.
“Perhaps I should be bowing?” the man said, then began to lower himself on one knee.
“Ah, no, that’s not necessary, please,” I urged. But I had to admit watching an alpha bow to me did feel kind of good.
“Whatever you say.” He stood. “But, Halo, I have to ask… Is it true that you’re not well-respected in your own tribe?”
I shrugged. “I mean… I’m not sure if respected is the right word. Nobody really bothers me, but they don’t particularly like me either.”
“Such a shame.” He frowned and shook his head. “For power like yours not to be appreciated in your own tribe is a huge waste.”
Hearing those words was like a drug. Despite my initial unease, I found myself aching for more of his praise. “Really?”
“Yes.” The alpha nodded slowly, like he was in awe. “You’re incredible, Halo Fire-Eater. I don’t doubt that many shifter packs and tribes outside of Cinderhollow know of you and your abilities. You’re a legend.” He smiled. “Did you know you’re known as the Golden Dragon?”
“The Golden Dragon,” I murmured, enjoying the sound of it on my tongue.
Suddenly, the man frowned as if in deep thought. “I know it’s none of my business, but… why do you stay in Cinderhollow? They obviously don’t appreciate the magnitude of your importance.”
The words warmed my cheeks and I blushed again. “Ah, I don’t know…”
“I’m serious.” The man stepped forward with his hands outstretched, palms up to indicate his deference. “They don’t respect you. They scorn you while they should be worshipping you, Halo.”
He’s right, a voice in the back of my mind whispered. I was stronger than them all, stronger than any alpha in Cinderhollow.
“They’re afraid of your power, so they put you down,” he continued. He stood closer now and his shadow fell on me as the sun set behind him in the mountaintops. “I suppose they don’t even let you openly practice your magic.”
“They don’t,” I muttered, remembering when Sterling had asked me to stop. I mean, I’d set the house on fire at the time, but still...
“Awful,” the man said scornfully. “They don’t understand what an important person you are.”
I nodded along. Every word out of this man’s mouth filled me with fiery pride and contempt. He spoke the truth - Cinderhollow and its people didn’t appreciate me, even though I’d done nothing but love them.
I wanted to protect Cinderhollow, but now…
“You are worth more than this, Halo Fire-Eater,” he murmured. He bowed again, lowering himself on one knee. “Let me ask you this. I beg of you. Leave this place behind.”
“What?” I asked softly.
His eyes flashed with desperation as he stared up at me. “They don’t deserve you.” He lowered his head. “Not that I deserve your presence, either, but my pack can at least appreciate you in a way that Cinderhollow doesn’t. You are a legend. A god among mortals.”
“Really?” I asked, ad
dicted to his praise now.
“Yes.”
“Wait, you said your pack? There’s more of you?”
“I am the leader. The highest-ranking alpha. I make all the final decisions.”
Something nagged at the corner of my mind. Hadn’t Kass mentioned some pack while speaking to Sterling?
“What’s it called? Your pack?” I asked, taking a step backwards.
But as I moved, the man’s hands snaked out and grabbed my own, preventing me from backing away. “Wait, Halo Fire-Eater. Please.”
An uncomfortable chill lingered on my skin from where the stranger touched me. Suddenly uneasy with where this conversation was headed, but with no way civil way to escape, I stood there, frozen.
“I mean you no harm, Halo. I only want what’s best for you. If you come with me, you’ll be treated like the god you are. You’ll be worshipped.”
The honeyed words that sounded so sweet a moment ago made my stomach churn. Discomfort crawled along my skin. I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here, alone with this man.
“What is holding you back?” the stranger asked, lifting his face to stare at me.
My eyes flickered to the side. “I have a mate.”
“He loves you, this mate?”
“Yes,” I stated. I wished Kass was here. “He does love me. We even have a child on the way.”
The man’s eyes flashed to my belly, and I felt a surge of dread. My free hand instinctively went to hold my stomach.
“Is that right?” he asked with a smile. “Congratulations.”
I didn’t respond. Magic began to pool in my free hand, ready to be unleashed if needed. The fear and discomfort caused the dam holding back my power to break; magic spilled freely from my hands, manifesting as flames that coated my skin. Even I was surprised. Empowered by my pregnancy, the magic seemed to have a mind of its own, working instantly to protect me and my unborn child.
The stranger’s eyes darted to the fire dancing across my hands. Then he gave me a dry smile.
“Now is not the time, I see.” He bowed his head respectfully, then to my relief, began to walk away. “Goodbye, Halo Fire-Eater.”
I said nothing as the man left, disappearing into the shadowy mountain crags. I stood there, watching for a long time to make sure he was really gone.
A shudder shook me. The encounter was uncomfortable and strange, and left me with a sense of quiet dread. I backed away from the site and retreated to the proper Cinderhollow boundary, a place marked primitively with rocks.
After being creeped out by that man, my determination solidified. Creating a proper barrier with clear magic would kill two birds with one stone. I would prove to Sterling and the rest of the Knights that magic could be used for good, and also keep out creeps and potential enemies to our tribe.
Fiery sparks crackled at my fingertips in anticipation. At my core, I was a fire mage, but my skill with clear magic allowed it to be infused with my natural affinity element. The barrier - if I managed to pull it off properly - would be a translucent dome, visible only to those with magic affinity, and have the added quirk of burning anyone who tried to touch it from the outside.
I stepped back behind the rocks. I took a deep breath, then raised my hands.
Magic pulsed thicker than blood in my veins. An overwhelming sense of power gripped my entire body, like I was part of the universe itself.
The image burned itself into my closed eyes - a vision of a vast, magical barrier protecting all of Cinderhollow.
I will make it happen. I will.
My feet dug into the earth and I gritted my teeth. Sweat dripped down my brow. My arms shook with effort as it felt like all my magical energy was exploding from my body. Magic that was somehow ice cold and fiery hot at the same time surged out of me and into existence so violently that I cried out.
A shockwave sent me flying back. I landed on my ass with a grunt.
Great. I probably fucked that up, I thought with a groan.
But then I opened my eyes.
My heart nearly stopped. My eyes widened in pure awe. Right before me was the sliver-thin edge of a translucent surface that shimmered radiantly in the sunset. I threw my head back in wonder, not sure how far it would go. But there it was - high above in the sky, like the arc of a rainbow, far, far away to the other side of Cinderhollow.
“Holy shit,” I muttered.
I staggered, moved by my own grandiose accomplishment.
“I really did it…”
“Halo!”
My mate’s familiar voice pulled me from my stunned reverie. Kass was breathless as he approached.
“I heard this deep sound, and you still weren’t back home and then there was this weird shimmer in the sky and -” He stopped suddenly and his eyes went wide. “What - what is that?”
“You can see it?” I asked curiously. “Weird.”
“Halo, what is that thing?” Kass demanded, a note of panic in his voice.
“How much can you see?” I tentatively put my hand through the barrier, then pulled it back. Nothing happened.
Kass seemed confused, but squinted at the barrier. “I see… iridescent colors, but it’s blurry.”
To me the barrier’s existence was crystal clear. Maybe Kass had just enough magic affinity to recognize something was there, but not enough to use it himself or even see it properly.
“Explain yourself,” Kass asked. “Please.”
“It’s a barrier!” I exclaimed. “Look! It’s to keep us safe.” I put my hands through it again to prove to Kass it wouldn’t bite.
He frowned, unsure. “What is it for?”
“To keep intruders and stuff out. But any of us can go and come as we please. Look.” I stepped outside the barrier, watching Kass wince in apprehension, then stepped back inside. I laughed, elated. “It works!”
Confusion and relief warred on Kass’s face until he finally sighed. “Okay. I believe you. I just hope everyone else does, too.”
His lack of excitement put a damper on my own. I frowned slightly. Why couldn’t Kass see what an amazing accomplishment this was? How much it would protect our tribe?
* * *
“I remember that,” Kass in the present day murmured. He scratched his head. “I… I know I wasn’t thrilled at the time, but you have to remember, Halo, I was scared. I didn’t know what would happen to you. You were warned not to practice magic openly, and then you went ahead and created an entire barrier around the tribe.”
I felt smug. “Sure did.”
“People thought it was some evil magic to keep us trapped inside.”
“Hey,” I began, holding up a finger, “your Commander was the one who suggested it in the first place. If you think about it, it’s really her fault the barrier exists.”
I expected Kass to frown and argue, but he didn’t. Instead he gave me a wry smile. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Kassius Pax? Telling me I’m right?” I said with a theatrical gasp.
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. But seriously, Halo, what does this have to do with… the question I asked? Who was the man in your story?”
My face fell. “Oh, I’m getting there. Trust me.”
Kass nodded seriously, waiting.
I sighed, letting the memories rush back. “Flash forward a few months…”
* * *
Angel cooed in my arms, making incoherent baby-talk as she gestured towards the iridescent sheen of the barrier.
“That’s right, sweetie,” I said. “Daddy made that.”
Angel, who had no idea what I was saying, giggled to herself. Despite the frustration clouding up my mind, I laughed along with her. My precious daughter never failed to make me smile. She was nothing short of perfect.
Things at home with Kassius had been uneasy. He was never cruel or demanding, but the growing tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife. Although the Knights recognized the usefulness of my barrier, it still wasn’t enough to convince them that magic wasn�
��t all bad. In fact, their conviction that magic was evil was only getting stronger.
“They’re a bunch of morons, is what they are. Don’t you think so, Angel?”
Angel said a string of sounds that meant nothing, but it was clear from the expression on her face she thought she was really responding.
“That’s right,” I agreed, smiling again.
I approached the barrier and propped her up in my arms. She put her hand through it the same way she played with soap bubbles at home. She laughed and waved her arm. At least she was having fun.
“Nothing’s working the way it should,” I murmured. “The barrier was supposed to change their minds, but it didn’t. Did I do this all for nothing?”
I sighed.
But it wasn’t all for nothing. I knew that. If the barrier would protect my daughter from people attempting to hurt her, then it was worth creating. I never regretted it.
Now that my pregnancy had ended, my magic returned to its normal pitch. No more massive flare-ups of power. Maybe that was a good thing. Although, to be honest, the overwhelming energy coursing through my blood had felt amazing. Almost intoxicating. Like I was truly a living legend, a god among people - just like that strange man told me I was.
I frowned. Although it happened months ago, the uncomfortable encounter still haunted me. Who was that man, and why was he so obsessed with me? To my knowledge, he never returned - and if he did, he would have been burned by the barrier.
Good, I thought harshly. He was a creep back then, and I don’t doubt he’s a creep now.
If I never saw him again - especially now that I had a young child - I would be glad.
A chill ran down my spine as a low, pained groan carried from down the rocky slope.
I paused, unsure of what to make of the sound. Maybe it was just a trick of the wind, a low howl between the mountain peaks.
But as I waited, the agonized moan repeated. It was coming from outside the barrier, down the ravine.