Chemical Affairs

Haven appeared to be a ruined section of what might’ve once been a historic downtown district. Old cobblestone made up the road with awkwardly structured sidewalks lining frowning buildings. People of various statuses seemed to be here, from former Level Blues to Level Reds and the fabled Level Zero. Some people had strange deformities, included a horn headed girl standing silently by a brown haired boy in a blue jacket. Harry tried sending the boy a smile but the other Level Blue smirked behind cigarette smoke and whispered to the Horn Girl. The people that littered the streets had a look of distress and unnecessary age to them, one Harry couldn’t comprehend.

“Stop gawkin’. It’s rude”, Minstrel ordered. She tipped the occasional nod to people as they walked past but otherwise, kept her glowing green eyes ahead of her.

“I’m sorry”, Harry murmured. “I’ve just...who are they?”

Minstrel pouted behind her mask. “Those who couldn’t afford making it to the New Worlds when the Rapture came”, she answered softly. “Or those who didn’t know. Wanderers. Vagabonds. Refugees. Exiled folk.”

“That woman’s wearing yellow!” Harry gasped. A tall, muscular woman stood outside of a bar swinging a pint with the ever familiar patch of the Level Yellows, specifically the patch of an engineer.

“That’s Chip”, Minstrel said. “Would you like to talk? I’m sure it’d be best if a wuss like you had somethin’ recognizable.”

“I-I’m afraid I don’t know her personally”, the Blue Boy admitted.

Minstrel rolled her eyes and smiled, a radiant smile that was accentuated with small dimples and round cheeks. “Ya can’t make friends if you don’t try, Bluey. C’mon!” She linked arms with him and yelled. “Yo Chip!” she wailed, pointing. “I brought ya a gift!”

The woman took a hard swig from the pint before approaching. Combat boots thudded against the ground as she marched over, chin held high. “He doesn’t look like much”, she said, bending over to lift Harry’s chin. Up close, Chip was an amazon of a woman, at least six foot tall with a short brown braid. “What can you show me, kid?”

“I- noth-nothing-”

“What a goof!” Chip laughed, punching him in the arm harder than a woman should be able to. “You’re new. Where ya from kid? I’m not going to put ya to work on the first day so don’t worry about that!”

“Found him outside the gates”, Minstrel stated. “Figured he could stay here the night since he missed his own call.”

Chip eyes him up and down but clapped both of her hands onto his shoulders. “Well, if Minstrel picked you up, you know Dorian’ll let you stay.”

“Dorian?” Harry wondered.

“He’s sum-fin’ like our leader”, Minstrel said. “He’s...a little different and…”

“He’s a healer! And a damned good one!” Chip beamed. “There’s no man who can patch you up better than him! In fact, if you’re worth an ounce of the hair on your head, he might even like to keep you around!”

Harry smiled too. Medicine was something he understood. “I’d love to meet him”, he said. “Where is he?”

“We’ll get there”, Minstrel muttered. “Anyway Chip, this Harry. Harry, Chip.”

“Lookin’ forward to working with you!” Chip waved. She saluted Minstrel before marching proudly back to the bar. Minstrel dragged Harry to a cathedral that looked ready to fall apart. The turrets and flying buttresses looked like they were one their last leg, shingles fell off the roof and paint was peeling from the coated bricks. Minstrel pulled off the cat patch on her arm to present to two intimidating guards at the door who stepped aside for the both of them. Upbeat doo-whop songs played from an old record player in the sanctuary of the building where a man in black sat on the floor, taking in the sounds as he smashed something. Peeking around, Harry saw it was a mortar and pestle he was using to create a liquid substance.

It wasn’t what he was doing but the way the man looked that made him a grandiose, Hellish being. He had pale skin with wicked gold eyes lined in dark makeup under messy hair. His clothes included a black leather trench coat, black Converse, black pants, and a ripped shirt that might have at one point promoted a band. With a grace no human had, he diligently ground his ingredients with long pale fingers and strangely lengthy limbs. The part that really got to Harry though were the pointed and pierced ears.

“Like an elf”, he whispered. The man jumped up, whipping out a butcher knife from his belt that was aimed carefully at Harry’s throat.

“What. Is. This?” he demanded coldly. “A mas’ reft, Minstelles? Ido brass Haven?”

Minstrel touched the man’s arm, the both of them seemingly melting into each other. “This is a Level Blue Card”, she told the man. “I found him. He needs a place to stay.”

Pairs of green and gold eyes stared upon the boy who stood awkwardly before them. “You do realize everyone here must earn their keep”, the man sneered.

“I’m willing to do whatever I must for the time”, Harry agreed.

“You already owe us for Minnie saving your life”, he muttered. “Hopefully, you weren’t planning on returning soon.”

While he didn’t like the sound of that, Harry was still intrigued by the man’s ears, wondering what they were and was willing to stay as long as the man needed so he could find out. “What is this place? And who are you?” he wondered.

This time, the man laughed. It was a dark snicker but it was something. “My name is Dorian. I am Haven’s lead cleric. This place is Haven. Do you not care what I just told you, child?”

“No”, Harry admitted. “What is Haven?”

“Such naivete. A sanctuary. A home for the weak, the underprivileged, the denied. We do not work for money. We work for ourselves and each other but everyone must be willing to pull their own weight. That includes you, me, and Minnie.”

“Why not try joining the work programs by the Minister?”

Dorian scoffed in disgust. “And be forced to work in the mines? Have chemicals tested on us? Subject ourselves to ridicule? No, we are people. Not simple vermin to be exterminated.”

Harry recoiled from Dorian who almost seethed with loathing. “I didn’t mean to offend”, the boy whimpered.

“I realize that. You’re nothing more than a child though you have your uses”, Dorian reasoned. “I can see by the card on your neck that you are a Blue? That could be very valuable-”

“There was another one outside!” Harry gasped.

“Louis is merely a boy in a laboratory left unsupervised”, Dorian growled. “You though, you are fresh. You have knowledge, no?”

Harry nodded slightly. “My father is a doctor and my mother is working on a chemical cure for the Wrongs.”

“The Wrongs?” Dorian repeated. “Mas’ reft. Those are darsoons, er ghouls as you’d probably say.”

“Everyone keeps calling me mas’ reft. What does that mean?” Harry questioned.

Minstrel stood defensively in front of Dorian who simply turned a small bauble in his pointed ear lobe. “It is the term given to those who are...not like us”, the pink haired girl informed.

“Because I’m an outsider?” Harry guessed.

“Yes”, Dorian answered. “Mas’ reft, if you are going to be useful here, I see no better place for you than in my personal care. I wish to learn what you know about the science of medicine.”

The Blue Boy scratched his head. “You’re a healer”, he said. “And you don’t know about hospital stuff?”

Dorian stared at him over his long, pointed nose, those golden eyes burning holes into Harry. “I am a cleric”, he said sternly. “I practice the old ways but there’s only so much that the dovhin before me are capable of. With your help, I could bind the two to further help these people. You did not blindly walk outside, clearly as you noticed Louis.”

“And met Chip”, Minstrel added.

“Indeed”, Dorian murmured. “So you are to stay here for the night. Should you wish to stay longer, then you shall stay in the Sanctuary longer-”

“Doranis”, Minstrel pleaded. “Do nash taki salos?”

“Minstelles, truvess. Do nocept raham. Hess mas’ reft, malus ata.”

“What are you saying?!” Harry demanded. The weird language was like nothing he’d ever heard before yet the both of them seemed to understand each other completely. The language was not only something his ears didn’t recognize, but his physical being didn’t recognize. A certain energy came with it, one that made Harry feel isolated like they were speaking behind a closed door. What was this?

Dorian held up a hand, silencing Harry’s confusion. “Do not concern yourself. It’s nothing bad”, he smirked. “What is your name, child? I did not catch it.”

“Harry.”

The dark man smiled wider. “Then Harry, I welcome you with open arms into Haven. As the night is still young, I suggest we find dinner before setting to work. Yes?”

At the suggestion of food, Harry’s stomach rumbled. “O-of course. Anything!” he answered. Harry let Dorian link arms with both him and Minstrel so Dorian could lead them into the waste land’s encampment.

“I suspect you have many questions, Harry. And I shall gladly answer them as they come”, Dorian added. “Now let us go before Chip finishes off the beer!”

Notes