Hidden Memories

…

The silence lingered after Evryn's words, heavy with unspoken emotions. But soon, the low hum of the Aether engine filled the space, breaking the quiet. The life-support systems came online, their gentle hum blending with the engine's steady pulse.

A faint vibration ran through the ship's floor, subtle but noticeable, as the vessel stirred to life. A slight shift followed as the ship lifted smoothly off the ground, the gravitational stabilizers kicking in to steady their ascent.

Evryn's gaze lingered on Helaine for a moment longer before he leaned back, feeling the familiar weight of anticipation settling in his chest. The journey was far from over, and something told him that whatever awaited them on that desert planet would change everything.

"His name was Theron…" Helaine's voice was soft, almost vulnerable. Her crimson eyes, usually sharp and guarded, seemed to lose their edge as she stared at her fingernails, her thumb gently tracing over them.

Evryn watched her, unsure of what to say but relieved that she was finally opening up. He could feel the weight of her words—the hesitation, the pain she had kept buried.

"Theron was my older brother… my only sibling." Her voice wavered as she spoke, her eyes fixed on her hands. "We didn't really have anyone except each other."

She let out a heavy sigh, her fingers curling into her palm. Her nails dug into her skin, a subtle but telling sign of the emotions stirring within her.

"It all started that day…" Her words trailed off, her gaze distant. "When he told me he was starting a 'business.'"

The weight of that memory dragged her under.

-

Helaine was eleven again, standing in a cramped, dimly lit room. A stained mattress lay in the corner to the far left, the result of a drink she had spilled weeks ago. The window to her right was cracked open, letting in the distant hum of the city—voices, footsteps, the occasional honk of an airbike. Sunlight streamed through, cutting across the dull gray walls and the worn concrete floor, which was chipped and uneven from years of neglect.

She sat at a wobbly wooden desk pushed against the wall, a piece of paper in front of her with the word "Homework" scrawled at the top.

Helaine groaned, dropping her pencil as she flopped her forehead onto the desk. "This is impossible… why do I even have to do this?"

She puffed out her cheeks in frustration before lifting her left hand, forming a little mouth with her thumb and fingers. In a mock deep voice, she muttered, "If you don't do your homework, I'll be very upset and won't take you to the lartertop."

Her eyes narrowed, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips before she sighed, leaning back against her chair. She tilted her head to stare at the ceiling, letting the distant sounds of the city wash over her—muffled voices, footsteps, the occasional hum of an airbike. For a moment, everything felt far away… almost peaceful.

But then—

Click.

The front door creaked open.

Helaine's heart skipped. Her body went rigid, her eyes widening with sudden panic.

Theron's home…

She snapped upright without thinking, grabbing her pencil and pressing it hastily to the paper. Her hand moved aimlessly, pretending to write. A second later, the door to her room creaked open.

A slim, young man stepped inside. His black hair was a mess, falling over his forehead, and his red eyes—just like Helaine's—held a familiar warmth despite the exhaustion beneath them. His pale skin looked slightly more worn than it should for someone his age.

"I'm hoooome!" Theron's voice rang out, overly enthusiastic as he threw his hands into the air.

Helaine turned from her desk, blinking up at him. "Why are you so excited?"

A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes practically gleaming. "Because," he said, his voice brimming with excitement, "your big brother just landed something huge. Our lives are about to flip upside down!"

Helaine's eyes lit up. "Wait… do you mean it?"

"Yep!" Theron's grin only grew wider. "I made a lot of money today. And I think…" He paused, crossing his arms with mock seriousness before his grin returned. "I think we deserve something special."

Helaine's heart fluttered with hope. "Special… like what?"

"Like…" He glanced at the desk, noticing the homework she had been pretending to work on. His eyes softened, a flicker of pride showing through. But then, as if reminded of something, his expression shifted slightly.

"No one's giving you a hard time at school, are they?"

Helaine shook her head quickly, her black hair bouncing. "Nope!" she said with forced enthusiasm. "They've stopped bothering me."

Theron studied her for a moment, his smile faltering—just for a second. But he let it go, ruffling her hair before standing up straight. "Good. That's how it should be."

Then, his grin returned, brighter than ever. "For tonight… we're having beef."

Helaine's body practically jolted with excitement. "Beef?" she echoed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Beef." Theron nodded, almost dramatically.

It had been so long since they'd had anything close to that. Most nights, it was stale bread or, if they were lucky, thin soup. But beef? The thought of real, warm, savory meat sent a thrill through her. And not just any meat—beef was her favorite.

"Are you serious?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the pure joy in her tone was impossible to miss.

"Dead serious." Theron winked, his grin never fading.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Helaine felt a spark of happiness—real, untainted happiness.

"And for a while… life did get better."

Helaine's voice was quiet, almost distant as the memory gripped her. Her red eyes had softened, but there was a weight behind them—a burden she still carried.

"We had money. More than we'd ever had before. Suddenly, things were… easier. My brother could buy food, better clothes, even a real couch. I didn't have to worry about where our next meal would come from. But I… I never asked him where the money came from."

She looked down, her fingers absentmindedly brushing against her palm.

"And then… that day came."

Helaine was twelve.

She lay sprawled on the brown, soft sofa her brother had bought not long ago—one of the few luxuries they had in their tiny apartment. The fabric was worn, but it was soft, and it felt like heaven compared to the cold, hard floor she had been used to.

Her red eyes stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting as the steady patter of rain echoed from outside. It poured down hard, splashing against the cracked window, the sound filling the otherwise quiet space.

The apartment wasn't much. The floor was the same rough gray concrete as her room, cracked and worn from years of neglect. The walls were just as bare, chipped paint revealing the dull cement beneath. Aside from the sofa and a small coffee table, the living room was empty. But to Helaine, it felt… safe.

Still, something nagged at her.

What kind of job pays this much?

Theron had been gone more often lately, coming home late, looking more tired each time. But he always smiled. He always told her things were fine.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sudden, aggressive pounding on the front door shattered the stillness.

Helaine's body tensed, her heart thudding against her ribs. She bolted upright, her wide eyes darting toward the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock!

The pounding grew louder. More urgent. The sound echoed through the small apartment, making the walls feel even thinner.

Helaine's hands gripped the edge of the couch as her breathing quickened. Her instincts screamed at her—something's wrong.

Theron's door flew open, and he rushed out, his expression immediately shifting from confusion to alarm when he saw her.

"Helaine…" His voice was calm, but she could hear the strain beneath it. "It's fine."

But it wasn't.

He didn't even look at the door as he spoke. His eyes were on her, filled with worry.

Helaine's lips parted, but no words came out. She just watched, frozen, as Theron walked to the door.

Click.

The door swung open.

And they were there.

Two men stood in the doorway—tall, broad, and built like they could crush bones with their bare hands. Muscles strained against their dark jackets, and their faces were hard, unreadable. But Helaine could feel it—the danger.

A chill ran down her spine.

Theron stepped outside, blocking their view of her, his back straight, but Helaine could see the tension in his shoulders.

Their voices were low, but she could still hear it—an argument. Words she couldn't quite make out.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

Then, Theron's voice rang out.

"No… you can't take her!"

Helaine's blood turned cold.

Before she could move, one of the men shoved Theron.

Hard.

He hit the floor with a grunt, just inside the doorway.

"Theron!"

Helaine's heart pounded in her ears as her brother looked up at her, pain and desperation in his eyes.

And then—

A third figure stepped inside.

A man with jet-black hair and eyes so dark they felt like pits. He was calm, too calm, as he walked toward her, his boots echoing on the cracked concrete.

"Don't run, little girl." His voice was low, almost gentle—but it was laced with something that made her skin crawl. "We're not going to hurt you. We just need to take you… since your brother failed to pay us back."

Helaine's blood froze.

"Don't listen to him, Helaine!" Theron's voice was raw, filled with panic. He was on the ground, struggling to get up. "Run! Now!"

Her body screamed at her to move. To listen to her brother.

But her legs wouldn't move.