The Lost Secret of the Silver Sea

Chapter 13: Walking Barefoot in Empty Streets

            Nails were… absolutely useless, on too many accounts. Kaelonne learned this the hard way. Hardly a glance at the growth at the end of his fingers that supposedly were used for protection among other things was all he needed to confirm the necessity of testing them out. A plain wall, and a mischievous look was all it took for his downfall. His father’s comment of his son having no sense of self-preservation was his only thought as he yelped and gripped his wrist tightly. His hand throbbed as he shoved it into his borrowed jacket and stalked off from the unmarked wall, a string of Mermatian curses under his breath.

            After leaving the building of healing, or rather hospital, as the large sign on the building stated, he’d set off in a random direction. The young prince didn’t question it as much as he should of, it just felt right to head in this particular route. His attempt to head in any other led to a strange tugging in his chest and an unsettled feeling running though his veins.

            At first, the unnatural feeling had absolutely unnerved him, but then again, none of this was natural. A Mermatian posing as a human, Sirinians declaring a form of war despite being mostly peaceful for the last few centuries, his meeting with a human were a few events to name. Then it occurred to him, that the strangest thing was the appearance of Viatrix. A half Mermatian half Sirinain, who happened to be just in the place and time he needed help, talked to him in a language he never knew he could understand and then turned him human. If his body decided to walk this particular direction, then he was going to mentally blame it on the strange being and the world having issues.

            It was peculiar, being a stranger in this world. Back home, there was always a guard in view, researchers and civilians talking to him causally, the soft sound of whistles and chatter. This was different, it felt like the very world was cold, it seeped into muscles and latched onto his bones. People muttered in low, grating tones, preferring to stare at the devices in their hands. The machines, vehicles as he overheard a few called it, were painfully loud and obstructive. Kaelonne found himself flinching and hunching his shoulders many times whenever they passed to close to him and blared their loud horns. If this was the world Hartley lived in, no wonder he looked so exhausted that day on the shore, having to deal with this day-in-day-out must be harrowing.

            Food was hardly a hassle as of yet, the bag he’d snagged from the hospital was filled with edible items wrapped in smooth packages. If it weren’t food, Kaelonne was not entirely sure he’d want to know. He’d seen the human visitors bring it in for the young patient, with warnings of hiding it from the healers. He hoped that the injured human would be fine without it. He was worried for when he had no more, however, for he still had no grasp of this world’s way of barter nor did he have the items required for it.

            Sleep was shortcoming, unsurprisingly. Most humans, people, were scarce at the late-night hour, their sleep schedule probably matched their fellow underwater beings. Many a time, Kaelonne had noticed those that didn’t return to a sheltered place, chose to wander the streets, or stay on benches and stairs. They were much more haggard, with worn clothing and knotted hair, shoeless more often than not. Kaelonne, the prince of his kind, realised that he far more resembled those of the poorer community in the human world than he did in any other. He wasn’t quite sure what to think of it. Mermatians didn’t really have this sort of issue, they had a barter system but as a small group, it was easy to support all of them.

            He spent nights curled up on benches, stairs of closed doors, leaning against buildings. His feet hidden protectively under his jacket in hopes to stave off the unfamiliar cold that grew stronger at night. He wasn’t totally aware of the time that passes, a week… maybe two? He matches it to the ‘calendars’ he saw on stores and papers. The prince had to learn to do things he never would’ve thought about just a year prior. Gender, he realised, was still difficult to discern, labelling all of them as human in his head. He chose not to voice his reflections, however, as he didn’t want to upset anyone by accident.

            Kaelonne’s thoughts floated to his home, his people, his family, as it often did these days. It wasn’t hard, considering there wasn’t much else to think about while he walked. He wondered if Idris and the King were even still alive, or if they were captured. He thought about Eirian, his best friends and brother at heart, his side wounded from looking out for the young, reckless royal, to the soldier-in-training’s mother, and her bright smile, knowing look and endless ideas. The young royal thought of his brother, Falkon, and wondered genuinely, how he was faring? Did he think then all dead? Did he know what was going on? Was he safe?

            “Boy, kid, pssssst, over here!” Kaelone startled violently, eyes blinking owlishly at the hand waving at him from behind a building. The voice comes again, with the same words, he hesitates, following an unknown voice behind a building was a bad idea anywhere. The guy reveals himself this time with raised eyebrows, Kaelonne takes note of his ragged clothes, dust marked skin, and greying hair. He looked as though a light wind would blow him over so Kaelonne took the chance and walked closer, praying that his meagre fighting skills would be enough to help him in case the talk went sour.

            “Hi?”

            “You look like you need some shoes, kid.” The man smiled wide, unbothered by the yellowing of his teeth. Kaelonne scrunched his nose at this words and watched his dusty feet, dirty and sore from walking without much rest.

            “What of it?”

            “Oooo, you talk fancy.” The man seemed to smile even wider, red eyes opened wide. “You looking to run from someone, kid.”

            “…No.” Kaelonne frowned and glanced around the alleyway the hyper, old man called him into, taking in the boarded windows and piles of garbage.

            “Don’t matter, ‘cause I got what you don’t.”

            “What may that be?” Kaelonne thinned his lips and settled his features into a blank glare. He wasn’t in the mood to get robbed, especially by someone who could barely walk on two legs and seemed to be intoxicate by the strange herbal plant that a lot of the human on the streets seemed to enjoy. He was familiar with the term ‘high’, many plants growing back at the kingdom were used as painkillers and healing, and it was sometimes commonly used for recreational purposes. As a researcher, Kaelonne was responsible for caring for some of these plants, he didn’t see the appeal, but he could recognise the effects on someone easily.

            “Shoes.” The young royal couldn’t help the small snort at that, the man was just to jolly for him to take seriously. The sound just seemed to make the man glow even more, “And the ability to make you smile.”

            “I see, so you have.” Kaelonne nodded with a tired smile, clutching his bag tiredly, “And where are these fabled shoes?”

            “Ta-daaaaa!” He exclaimed with flourish, pulling out something from a black, plastic bag. Kaelonne raised his eyebrows in surprise as he took in item, not really expecting the man to be telling the truth. They were still well made, quite resembling those on the feet of people who walked a lot. The old shoes were dusty, and the laces looked like they were too brittle to last another month, but Kaelonne genuinely contemplated it. Walking was painful, between the cold air and hot asphalt, glass and stones, and countless other dangers, the shoes was looking like a good deal. Kaelonne, a prince of his people, was reduced to happily bargaining for a pair of old shoes, and his tired heart could barely be bothered. “What do you think?”

            “I think that those look like some pretty good shoes.”

            “I’m glad to hear it.” The man rests the hand holding them on his hip, the other stretched out with a knowing look, “So, whadh’ve you got for it?”

            “What are you looking for?” The man raises his eyebrows in surprise of the question before narrowing his eyes as if taking in Kaelonne for the first time.

            “Well, you ent looking like you got much.”

            “I don’t”

            “Not something you should say to someone you’re bargaining with, ya know.”

            “I know.” Kaelonne unconsciously lets himself fall into the habit of tapping his finger on his collarbone, next to the dust chains on his neck. The man’s eyes follow the movement.

            “Some pretty things on your neck there.” He states with a raised eyebrow. Kaelonne immediately takes a step back, the easy-going mood shattering.

            “Not for sale.”

            “Sentimental stuff, huh?” Something about the knowing look in the man’s eye allowed Kaelonne to feel a little relaxed.

            “Last gift from my sister.” He stated without explanation, looking at one of the closed windows for unnecessary inspection.

            “She not with you?”

            “…Not anymore.”

            “Ite, that’s fine.” The man shrugged, his voice a little softer, “You got anything else.”

            “Uh… the bag?” Kaelonne raised his shoulder vaguely, there wasn’t really much in it anymore but the bag itself might be useful, “If you want, you could look through it, probably find something useful.”

            The man takes the bag with a raised brow, setting it down on an over-turned garbage tin and rifling through it. He picked up a couple things before just pushing them to the side with a hum. Kaelonne had taken residence on an old crate for about a minute before the man pulled out two items with a hum of victory. “You using these deodorants?”

            “Uhh… no?” So that was what they were called, interesting. “Haven’t used them at all.”

            “Looking brand new and everything.” He grinned and tossed the shoes to Kaelonne, hardly watching as the young royal tugged them on awkwardly, twisting his face at the strange soft yet firm feeling. “You stole?”

            “Borrowed. I needed clothes; those were benefits.”

            “No judging here. The deodorant?”

            “Keep it. The bag?” Kaelonne grunted as it was tossed back at him, not quiet getting his balance with the lack of direct contact to the ground.

            “…You know I’m making a profit off you, right?”

            “That’s fine, I wasn’t using it anyway.”

            “So you said.” The man shoves the bottles into the same black bag the shoes came from, walking out of the alley way without prompting Kaelonne. “So, where you heading, kid?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “I like your style, kid.” He chuckled, leaning on the wall to the entrance of the dark alley, watching as Kaelonne settled his feet into the new bindings. “You look like a good kid, not much on the words, little too fancy for these parts and that long hair is a nightmare, I bet, but I think you’ll make it.”

            “Thanks… I guess.” Kaelonne continued to follow the warm summoning in his chest, not noticing or understanding the significance of the silver badge tucked under a grimy shirt.