Caged In

Chapter 13

(Tw: self harm)

"It took you long enough," Fintan complained. "Did you burn yourself or something?"

"Sorry, was I supposed to be here? I didn't get a note . . . " Harbin replied, choosing his words carefully.

"You expect us to leave you a handwritten note explaining how to meet up?" Fintan asked, as though the very idea of explanations was foreign to him.

"You didn't even say I had to meet up," reminded Harbin. "I had to look for everything myself."

"Just like your father," muttered Fintan.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harbin inquired, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Fintan sighed. "We've already wasted enough time."

One of the figures lifted the hood of his cloak, revealing him to be Coach Arland.

"I've heard you show skill in your ability," Arland told Harbin.

"He's not mediocre," corrected Fintan. "But he has a long way before he can do anything with it."

"Like what?" wondered Harbin. "Like making my own version of balefire?"

Fintan thought about it for a moment. "You could say that."

Harbin grinned.

"However," emphasized Arland, "we need to know that you are on our side."

"Why wouldn't I be? You saved me from what would probably be Exile, considering the Council already hates me."

Fintan considered the idea. "You're verbally willing. But words can't compete against actions."

"What do you mean?"

"You're here tonight—" Coach Arland begun.

"I'm pretty sure it's morning," Harbin blurted out.

Arland shot him a dirty look before continuing, "to begin your initiation."

"If I may ask—"

"You may not," Fintan interjected.

"What is this for?"

Fintan groaned.

"Is it a group that works to help those who have been wrongly banished?" Harbin speculated.

"Not exactly," corrected Coach Arland. "We specifically are working toward goals in favor of Pyrokinetics."

"So that's why you took me here after I manifested," realized Harbin. "Once you knew I was a Pyrokinetic, you decided it was best I came here."

"Precisely. Our one problem was your age. We had to wait until you were an adult before we could offer you a place as a new recruit."

"You noticed the fire on the floor," Fintan assumed. "That symbol is the group's family crest. In joining, you will wear it with pride and with the knowledge that your family will always be there to back you up."

"What about my actual family?"

A hooded figure to the left of Arland spoke, "They may be your blood, but once you join, we will be the sparks that kindle your fire."

"But my mom—" Harbin protested.

"No one has tried to find you. After these years, someone would look for you. But, no one did. They don't care enough to, doting on your sister. You're essentially an orphan. We can help with that. You don't have to be alone." The hooded man sounded so sincere. Did Harbin's family really forget about him?