Scene 11

---

This is stupid. Mav flipped off the pull-up bar, hit the ground at a roll, then went straight into Dancer Form 3: Inferno Dance. It was a complicated, aggressive maneuver that not only required vast amounts of stamina, but also extreme precision. 

Mav had, to his frustration, only mastered the first aspect of the form. 

He kicked, spun, punched, bounded, and twisted in air, knocking imagined enemies back, to the side, and into the ground. To those unaware of the form’s intended rigor, Mav’s blows would have looked amazing. He knew, however, that his punches pushed his body an inch more forward than it should have, that his kicks were too wild, causing him to lose sight of his target. Against opponents like those kidnapers, those details didn’t matter. Against a master, however, he’d lose in a minute. 

Wrath boiled his blood, heating his skin. His anger grew with every extreme punch and sloppy kick he performed, not to mention the unwanted thoughts crowding his head: innocent people drugged and bound to a wall, their assailants let off from legal punishments, and a government that he would soon pledge his life to letting it happen. 

Not like it was the first atrocious thing it allowed. 

Mav almost roared, almost clenched his eyes tight, almost chilled his core and released a torrent of flame. 

Almost killed a young child running toward him. 

Heart in his throat, Mav only just noticed the little tyke, arms outstretched as if he would give Mav a hug. He ceased his form, panting. Let the child and his approaching father think it was from the exercise and not the near-manslaughter. 

“Thank you!” the child screamed, excitedly hopping. “Thank you thank you thank you!” 

“I’m so sorry, Honored One,” the father said, reaching his child and holding him back. “He recognized your movements from videos and thought you were a Flame Dancer.” 

The father seemed to be in his early thirties, the child barely over seven. Why couldn’t they share the same expression? Why did the father have such apprehension in his gaze, while the child was filled with innocent joy? 

Shouldn’t the sight of a Peace Keeper calm the citizens, let them know that whatever evils threatened them, all would be well? 

It was the same with the woman in the station and the one in the office building. Mav’s and Koda’s presence didn’t bring peace to the troubled citizens. In this case, it instilled fear. 

I need to change that. 

Mav knelt so he was as tall as the child. “What’s your name?” 

“Dad!” the boy shouted, pulling on his father’s arm. “He wants to know my name!” 

“That’s an interesting name,” Mav said, looking at the father. “Did you or your wife come up with it?” 

That got a small chuckle from the man as the kid said, “No! I’m Evan!” 

Mav grinned. “Thank you, Evan. But you don’t need to thank me.” 

The kid looked confused. “You’re not a Dancer?” 

Mav held his left palm upward, then lit a tiny fire in it. The kid exclaimed, yanking his dad’s arm again, his eyes sparkling in the tiny firelight. 

“Then we thank you, Honored Dancer,” the father said, bowing slightly and forcing Evan to do the same. 

“No, please,” Mav said. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“But that’s what today’s about!” Evan said. “Thanks for making us warm!” 

“There are a lot of Flame Dancers you can thank today. But I’m not one of them.” 

“Honorable, and humble,” the father said, no trace of fear in his gaze any longer. 

But his admiration was just as unsettling. Mav wanted him to feel peace, not reverence. 

However many hundreds of years ago that this festival had been created, Flame Dancers had provided warmth through the winter. Now, however, Mav felt the holiday should be reserved for those Flame Dancers who, like their ancestors, sacrificed their own lives in the cold to keep others safe. 

Mav blinked. A frosted hand was all he could see, holding a determined flame. When he blinked again, the child and father stood before him, though through blurred vision. 

“What’s the matter?” Evan asked, confused. 

Mav rapidly blinked the tears away. “Oh, nothing. Got some dust in there. Anyway, remember, Evan, this thanksgiving is for all the Flame Dancers who lived their lives in service to others, protecting the innocent and defenseless at the cost of their safety and comfort.” 

“Like you!” Evan said. “That’s why you’re a Peace Keeper, right?” 

Right? Mav stared, then tempered his resolve. The smile he gave the boy was genuine, maybe his first true smile since before the cave. “Right.”