"I know you're starving, but you must eat slowly..."
"Mm."
Hope placed the cloth over his lips, ignoring the people's darting eyes in his direction as blood and iron replaced the flavored meal.
"Suppose I need something to cover my eyes as well..."
"What was that?" The old man asked.
Hope didn't respond.
In fact, Hope didn't pay much attention to the old man anymore as he was recollecting his thoughts. Maybe it wasn't just Hope's eyes that caused it. But his whole presence played a part as well. Or to a lesser degree?
Wasn't there also a saying of 'eyes are the windows to the soul?'
'Tsk. That'll be one hell of an aspect if someone had a power like that.'
"What a strange newcomer that one is."
"Who is he? Can't be from Sector One do you think?"
"Do you think the government will intervene again?"
"So far we have been doing fine just by ourselves. Why do we need their help now? Not that it ever worked before-"
"Hush!"
Hope listened to the people's conversations buzzing in and out of his ear—talks of his arrival or the problems occurring in the city, talks that would pique a person's curiosity of adventure or the chance of gossip. Their voices closely replicated the teasing whispers in his mind.
And there really seemed to be no escape. Noise hugged every corner of thought and reality. Voices filled every crevice, every bud, every tent, and every ear just as the day was awake before night's slumber.
Too loud. It was all too loud.
Hope didn't think he'd experience this type of predicament in staying too long in a crowd.
What if they were all forced to sleep?
Only a fleeting idea.
An entertaining one.
But Hope was beginning to hardly tell apart of which grouped voices belonged to his. And it wasn't like he should try and recognize each one.
He had already experienced the painful attempt before.
So, Hope started to fix his focus on the fire, watching the flames sway side to side as they began shrinking by the second before the old man decided to throw another stack of unknown material to breathe the fire to life again.
"You don't have to hide your eyes," said the old man.
Hope lowered his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.
So, the old man did hear him after all.
"Can't say it'll do me good."
Although, Hope didn't think sunglasses, or a blindfold would lessen suspicions either.
The old man also looked up and met Hope's gaze, his eyes drooped and brows crinkled. "You say that as if it's a curse."
"..."
'You have no idea....' Hope thought but remained silent.
Although, he supposed a conversation would help narrow his focus and lessen the confusion in his mind.
But before Hope could reply, the old man continued:
"Your mother's?"
"…"
'Ah dammit.'
Hope regretted that jinxing thought.
His body stiffened from the man's inquiry, the simple mention of 'mother' was enough to threaten his attribute. But there was another face that also teased in the midst.
Hope's eyes returned to the fire.
"Father's."
"Father's hmm?" He attempted a smile. "Generous, wasn't he?"
"The only thing I suppose."
Hope tossed the bloody cloth aside.
If he recalled correctly-
Of course, Hope did. But this time carefully.
-Hope remembered the priest garment he wore in his First Nightmare. How the other side of the black cape mimicked the same rich color as his eyes. Same as the sacred pool of tears. Cold. Yet warm. Like dusk hour.
"Richer than any clear sky I've ever seen." Hope muttered as his mind began to drift elsewhere.
But for the first time, his memories struggled to recollect images of his father even if the mention of his name tried to spark it so. Not that there was any benefit to it. Past was the past, wasn't it? He didn't necessarily want to relive those memories like he did back in the wasteland.
Father. Mother. Sister. Brother.
Damn brother.
'Ah what journey this is.' Hope thought.
Not at all what he had planned for.
Not at all what he had signed up for.
It was supposed to be a simple shipment to Acheron then back.
Jeevan went silent for a long moment. He seemed genuinely shocked by Hope's words.
"The sky?" Jeevan repeated under his breath. Then, surprisingly, he chuckled as if Hope had made some sort of joke. "I never would have thought of such comparison."
"..."
'Huh?'
Hope blinked at his response. "What would you compare it to then?"
The old man had a puzzled look on his face.
Hope continued. "I haven't seen what I looked like in a long while."
The old man raised his brows and pondered for a few moments, responding then in a lighthearted tone.
"Well then I suggest you find a mirror and have a look at your own eyes. They're exactly the same as my wife's earrings when we wedded." He said with a chuckle.
Hope listened. He ripped another piece of meat from the stick, the bad combination of blood and the savory meat mixed on his tongue.
"Hmm let's see." Jeevan poked the fire. "You could have said the ocean. The sea. Perhaps even a jewel. Sapphire or lapis lazuli or tanzanite would fit quite perfectly." He said, amused by Hope's lack of imagination.
'What?'
Hope knew the waters part. But what were the others?
'The hell is...'
"...A lapis? A sapphire?"
Jeevan went silent again, as if debating Hope was speaking in truth or not.
But then a mix of understanding crossed his eyes, the wrinkles pulling back into a smile. Another chuckle escaped him as he gazed—almost nostalgically—at the fire, its flames shaping into waves.
"They are precious minerals. Often used in making jewelry and many other adornments. My wife...a while back had her own set of earrings of that kind. I bought them...what was it...Tiffany's? Jared's? Ah it was a long time ago, but I bought them for our anniversary. Sapphires though. Not diamonds. My wife would have thanked me if I did. My wallet would have not haha...
"But!" The old man emphasized as he held three fingers up. "Lapis lazuli is prized for its deep, purplish-blue color. Sometimes even cobalt color. Tanzanite is much similar as well. While sapphire has a darker blue tone. Oh-" His expression melted, a submission to an old comforting memory as he spoke with a longing. "Those stones may have gleamed like starlight in the right setting under the sun or moon. But none compared to hers..."
"..."
Hope blinked.
There were a few words that Hope didn't understand but his mind wrapped around an idea of the context.
"Interesting..." Hope wiped off traces of grease from his lips. "Must not be important because I don't see them sold anywhere."
Now it was Jeevan's turn to blink in surprise.
Then thrilled laughter beat out of him. "Haha! Not exactly. Haaa. You probably don't see them anywhere because they are incredibly rare and valuable. Not that either of us could afford them anyway. But maybe not worth fighting for nowadays. Value is different for everyone. And the most luxurious thing around here is security."
Security.
Hope's hand twitched from those words.
The old man laughed a bit more before the joy was replaced with longing once more. His face sagged, eyes clouding over as if reliving a distant past. Well, he probably had seen more than Hope did. And maybe he hadn't mentioned his wife's name in a while.
He was of old age, an age that lived long enough before the Nightmare Spell to even reach further into the Dark Times.
"You seem to have a talent in telling stories." Hope commented as he laid back on a plastic blanket that hissed at his movements. His muscles relieved once he stretched out.
He may not be able to sleep, but relaxing was the next precious thing.
Jeevan's mind seemed to be brought back as he watched Hope's calm manner.
"Oh...Just an old folk trait I'm afraid."
Hope paused as half his vision was blocked by the tarp overhead and the other half of the soaring high ceiling with the webbed wires and orb lights.
'Afraid huh.'
Hope closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and loosened his body to feign sleep.
Hope supposed it didn't matter the number of battles one had to endure. Stupid fears. Great fears. Uncommon fears. Feigned fears. All of them seemed to chase at people's heels.
No wall or power of an Awakened could erase that.
Why the hell did he feel like he was being dragged again into something that regarded no part of him? If anything, he'd wanted to avoid it. And if it did involve him...
'Mm…no. Nope. Forget that.'
Hope did not want to imagine it.
After he regains enough strength back in his aching bones from all that damn travelling, he would have to ask an audience to see Master Leda. And find out once and for all on how to leave this city.
Haven or not. Hope wasn't going to be confined here just because of some laughter or food.
Anyone would be a fool if they'd think sitting here was enough to satisfy their needs. Maybe it would have been for Hope, but not in a discord city with an open monster gate at its center. And he wasn't going to wait until something blew over for him to move again.
He still wanted to leave for Acheron—an intentional fortified place made by the government.
Where there was at least some order there and not rampant crime threatening every corner or down a block.
And then...
Well. He would have to decide later what he would do then.