Crystargar, one of the many sea resorts on the Golden Horn Coast, loomed before them in all of its white glory. Lysander looked up, at the battlements. Just so he can be let inside, he had a scarf around his face. Only his eyes were to be seen. His hand was holding Erin's, who looked worse for wear.
His formally high-quality clothes, pristine and colorful, were now smeared with dirt. Yet, his blue eyes were determined.
If there was one thing that Lysander admired about Rin, it was that determined look on his face. One of the guards noticed them, and came down. He took one look at Erin, and then another at Lysander.
"What is with the scarf, boy?" The guard asked.
"My face is burned," Lysander lied. Erin's nose twitched, but that was the extent of his disapproval. The two of them had agreed that Lysander would lie. Even if Erin had found it outrageous, for Lysander to have to hide who he is.
"We come from Brier Village," Erin piped in. The hurt in his voice, at the mention of his old home, was not something he had to fake. "Our parents died in a fire. The bandits, they..."
Erin sniffs then, and Lysander turns around to hug him. Erin was a smart boy. He might not know anything about the state his parents had been left in, but he was not going to kid himself, that it was pretty.
"Do you have any family in Crystargar, boys?" The guard's demeanor was softer now. Erin sniffed, and hugged Lysander tighter.
"We don't. We were hoping that, we can be adopted," Lysander said to Erin. For a second, he dared to hope that he can go where Erin would go. That the two of them won't be separated.
"The orphanage is full, and people are down on their luck," the guard said, and Erin began to cry harder. "But we can let you in. What do we know? Maybe someone will take you in?"
With that, the guard knocked on the gates, and they were soon opened. Lysander patted the still crying Erin, and then led him inside.
The white buildings around them threatened to dwarf them. Lysander has never seen so much wealth. They looked even better than Erin's house. Taller too. Some of them were six stories high.
"We will find someone, don't you worry," Lysander said, and then led the blonde boy towards what he thought was the market.
As the rule of thumb goes, the widest street always leads to markets. Lysander looked around for any signs, but didn't find any. The street he was on led him to an alley, but it had different shops on both ends. When Lysander saw a cauldron on the inside of one of the shops, he made a beeline for it.
"If this is an alchemy shop, I can sell some of my herbs," Lysander said. He had all kinds of herbs on him. Most, he needed for himself. There was tail-whip, which was good for back pain. Also, he had some dried mushrooms, which were good for potions. At least, Anna had told him so, before she passed.
The bell rang, as the two boys entered the dimly lit shop. There was an old woman behind the counter, who stirred a mixture in a cauldron.
"Boys, where are your parents?" She asked, and that prompted Erin to sniff.
"We come from Brier Village," he managed to get out. Her face softened at that, and she came from behind the counter.
"I don't do handouts, but if you wait for the closing time, you can earn a silver coin, in exchange for you washing my windows," she said. Erin blinked up at her, shocked. Lysander bowed his head.
"Thank you for your generosity," the half-demon said, and then patted his pouch. "But we are here to trade."
"And how does a country bumpkin like you know what to trade in an alchemy shop?" Her eyes narrowed down at Lysander. Her hand reached out, and took a hold of his scarf. "Are you a..."
Lysander took a hold of her hand, and removed it from his scarf.
"You will find that our herbs have been dried in the best possible way," Lysander said. Which was a lie. They were mana dried, and not sun dried. Yet, not even Anna managed to tell the difference, when he did so.
"Boy, are you wanderers? The blonde doesn't look it, but you?" She reached out for his scarf again, and Lysander sighed.
"Don't call the guards, please," he begged. If he ended up exposed as a wanderer, in such a town, then he might end up at the stake.
"Oh, I see," she placed her hands at her sides, and then went back to the counter. "Come up to the counter. If you have more than weeds, I will give you a fair price."
Lysander took one look at Erin, who looked ready to shout. The wanderer places a hand on the blonde princeling's head.
"She is being more than fair. Don't cause a scene," Lysander said, but Erin was having none of it.
"You are small, like me," the blonde protested. "Mama always said that children should be protected."
That earned him a snort from the shop owner.
"I am protecting your friend, you silly child. The church will see him burned alive," she said, with a sneer on her lips. Both boys blinked at her. If Lysander could trust his ears, then what she said sounded as if she is angry for his sake. "I don't hold with such nonsense. Demons are just a different species. Nothing much to them."
"We need help," Erin said, thinking that the shop owner was nice, under all that scorn.
"The only help you will get from me, is a fair bargain. I can't be caught with a wanderer in my shop, boys. Be quicker about it," Lysander tugged Erin to the front of the shop, and began to empty his pouches of the herbs in them.
They left with five gold coins, fifty silver coins, and twenty copper ones. But the wound in Erin's heart threatened to overwhelm him.
Just why did people think that his savior was not deserving of some decency? Why did he have to hide? Erin had seen his different skin color, caramel, rather than his own milky white.
The blonde boy thought that Erin's golden eyes looked like ember. Not like a bad omen. His mother had never turned away anyone at her door. Not even the wanderers.
His mother, who was dead now. Another thing, he will never get back.
Crystargar, one of the many sea resorts on the Golden Horn Coast, loomed before them in all of its white glory. Lysander looked up, at the battlements. Just so he can be let inside, he had a scarf around his face. Only his eyes were to be seen. His hand was holding Erin's, who looked worse for wear.
His formally high-quality clothes, pristine and colorful, were now smeared with dirt. Yet, his blue eyes were determined.
If there was one thing that Lysander admired about Rin, it was that determined look on his face. One of the guards noticed them, and came down. He took one look at Erin, and then another at Lysander.
"What is with the scarf, boy?" The guard asked.
"My face is burned," Lysander lied. Erin's nose twitched, but that was the extent of his disapproval. The two of them had agreed that Lysander would lie. Even if Erin had found it outrageous, for Lysander to have to hide who he is.
"We come from Brier Village," Erin piped in. The hurt in his voice, at the mention of his old home, was not something he had to fake. "Our parents died in a fire. The bandits, they..."
Erin sniffs then, and Lysander turns around to hug him. Erin was a smart boy. He might not know anything about the state his parents had been left in, but he was not going to kid himself, that it was pretty.
"Do you have any family in Crystargar, boys?" The guard's demeanor was softer now. Erin sniffed, and hugged Lysander tighter.
"We don't. We were hoping that, we can be adopted," Lysander said to Erin. For a second, he dared to hope that he can go where Erin would go. That the two of them won't be separated.
"The orphanage is full, and people are down on their luck," the guard said, and Erin began to cry harder. "But we can let you in. What do we know? Maybe someone will take you in?"
With that, the guard knocked on the gates, and they were soon opened. Lysander patted the still crying Erin, and then led him inside.
The white buildings around them threatened to dwarf them. Lysander has never seen so much wealth. They looked even better than Erin's house. Taller too. Some of them were six stories high.
"We will find someone, don't you worry," Lysander said, and then led the blonde boy towards what he thought was the market.
As the rule of thumb goes, the widest street always leads to markets. Lysander looked around for any signs, but didn't find any. The street he was on led him to an alley, but it had different shops on both ends. When Lysander saw a cauldron on the inside of one of the shops, he made a beeline for it.
"If this is an alchemy shop, I can sell some of my herbs," Lysander said. He had all kinds of herbs on him. Most, he needed for himself. There was tail-whip, which was good for back pain. Also, he had some dried mushrooms, which were good for potions. At least, Anna had told him so, before she passed.
The bell rang, as the two boys entered the dimly lit shop. There was an old woman behind the counter, who stirred a mixture in a cauldron.
"Boys, where are your parents?" She asked, and that prompted Erin to sniff.
"We come from Brier Village," he managed to get out. Her face softened at that, and she came from behind the counter.
"I don't do handouts, but if you wait for the closing time, you can earn a silver coin, in exchange for you washing my windows," she said. Erin blinked up at her, shocked. Lysander bowed his head.
"Thank you for your generosity," the half-demon said, and then patted his pouch. "But we are here to trade."
"And how does a country bumpkin like you know what to trade in an alchemy shop?" Her eyes narrowed down at Lysander. Her hand reached out, and took a hold of his scarf. "Are you a..."
Lysander took a hold of her hand, and removed it from his scarf.
"You will find that our herbs have been dried in the best possible way," Lysander said. Which was a lie. They were mana dried, and not sun dried. Yet, not even Anna managed to tell the difference, when he did so.
"Boy, are you wanderers? The blonde doesn't look it, but you?" She reached out for his scarf again, and Lysander sighed.
"Don't call the guards, please," he begged. If he ended up exposed as a wanderer, in such a town, then he might end up at the stake.
"Oh, I see," she placed her hands at her sides, and then went back to the counter. "Come up to the counter. If you have more than weeds, I will give you a fair price."
Lysander took one look at Erin, who looked ready to shout. The wanderer places a hand on the blonde princeling's head.
"She is being more than fair. Don't cause a scene," Lysander said, but Erin was having none of it.
"You are small, like me," the blonde protested. "Mama always said that children should be protected."
That earned him a snort from the shop owner.
"I am protecting your friend, you silly child. The church will see him burned alive," she said, with a sneer on her lips. Both boys blinked at her. If Lysander could trust his ears, then what she said sounded as if she is angry for his sake. "I don't hold with such nonsense. Demons are just a different species. Nothing much to them."
"We need help," Erin said, thinking that the shop owner was nice, under all that scorn.
"The only help you will get from me, is a fair bargain. I can't be caught with a wanderer in my shop, boys. Be quicker about it," Lysander tugged Erin to the front of the shop, and began to empty his pouches of the herbs in them.
They left with five gold coins, fifty silver coins, and twenty copper ones. But the wound in Erin's heart threatened to overwhelm him.
Just why did people think that his savior was not deserving of some decency? Why did he have to hide? Erin had seen his different skin color, caramel, rather than his own milky white.
The blonde boy thought that Erin's golden eyes looked like ember. Not like a bad omen. His mother had never turned away anyone at her door. Not even the wanderers.
His mother, who was dead now. Another thing, he will never get back.
