The streets just became more quiet. The fight ended between the two and they both stared at each other–Ulrian still wanting an answer from him.
"You say interest,but you blew your cover fast.You could've watched me a lot longer and learned more."
Hamza looked at him, he didn't quite have a response that would satisfy him.
"I got bored. I've seen the lonely man in the bar tryna get drunk way too many times."
Hamza answered.
"Wanted to see if you're the real deal or just as pathetic as they all said. Turns out you're not as pathetic"
Hamza instead of grinning, rather gave a gentle smile this time
Ulrian didn't respond. Flattery from someone like him was just another way to get closer without permission.
Ulrian just dismissed the response entirely.
"The man wasn't gonna tell me anything."
Then Hamza got up from where he was and started to get the last of the dirt off of himself– the tight pristine robe lost its look after the fight. His slicked back hair was going all over the place. But it did not affect the man's presence; it still felt as though he was above whoever he talked to.
He faced the mouth of the alley, he then looked back at ulrian. His arm swung as a hand in a clock, his fingers following a beat slower—A mocking rhythm. An invitation telling Ulrian to follow his lead.
And so Ulrian did.
As they walked more and more—it was getting apparently clear that Greyforn was a city which died at night. Barely anybody could be seen walking the streets, the stores shut and the rush that was there before was completely gone. It felt as though it was a completely different place altogether.
Ulrian kept following hamza. Trying to match his pace but making sure he wasn't at his side while walking–rather just slightly behind him. Hamza noticed this but didn't really seem bothered by it.
He kept walking with the grin he had since they first met. Ulrian was looking around more and more.
The streets were only lit up by the orange and sometimes blue lanterns that came around. Ulrian looked at the sky and saw so many birds just flying everywhere even in the night. Some had feathers whiter than pure cotton and struck the viewer even from the fog all around–Some were larger than a behemon's skull, with eyes that rivaled the moonlight.
The birds reminded Ulrian of his owl he had when he was younger–when home was still a castle. The whitest feather on a bird that seemed to shine even in the dark. And its blue eyes which gave you an euphoric feeling just from looking at them.
He wondered if his owl flew among these birds or in the forest nearby Greyforn. Or if it met its end the same day the rest did. He couldn't recall.
Ulrian coming back to the present now saw the place had completely changed from the clean streets before. He didn't even pay attention to where they were going. He kept walking–following Hamza, lost in memory. By the time he came back the world had shifted. This wasn't Greyforn—not the one he'd seen hours ago.
The streets were broken with cracks everywhere–the sidewalk fared no better. He saw groups of people hurling around bins and throwing in paper and books and then making a small spark in them to start a fire. It looked as though the stores here did open...but it didn't seem as though people in this slum knew how doors worked, since windows right next to the entrances were broken and all over the streets.
He saw children in cut-off corners drawing glyphs on walls, with what seemed like blood. He saw an old man trying to eat a book he clutched in his arm–his eyes looked dry and yet it looked like he was crying. You could hear the slight sobs each time he bit the cover. A rat came before him and he started chasing after it.
The lanterns flickered for no apparent reason.
Ulrian looked at Hamza with questions but then he saw a change in his face, the grin that had been there completely disappeared–he seemed relaxed here. Ulrian looked again at his clothes and the place around with rats and bats fighting at every corner. He wouldn't have been able to guess this is the place where he lived.
It seemed as though this place wore no mask–and for now neither did he.
As they walked along the broken streets and ruined houses, children fought each other over scraps of food, punching with wild, desperate swings. Blood spilled from their mouths. Some cried as they hit, others as they were hit.
It was a scene no one could bear to witness.
So they didn't. They all looked away
As ulrian and hamza were walking towards their destination – ulrian's eyes darted towards a tavern. The tavern was nothing special from the rest of the buildings around it– trash covered its premise, a dog desperately clawing at a hole to the side–trying to get something out.
When Hamza and Ulrian were walking he saw a man standing there. Wearing a gold covered belt and necklace he adorned his fingers with a plethora of shining rings. The man reeked of piss and fermented oil. He kept staring at a brick wall next to the tavern's window, kept whispering to the walls
"Twenty-seven twenty seven twenty seven"
the man kept repeating, it felt as though it was a prayer. He kept clawing at the walls–his fingernails bleeding and painting the wall a new color.
"What's he trying to do"
Ulrian thought to himself
Hamza didn't even look while ulrian couldn't help looking confused. Then his eyes looked inside the window next to the man.
He saw someone, a man standing like a statue in the middle, he wore plain brown robes, the kind people used to go to work and dull events. His boots were caked in mud, probably from walking through the slums. He stood there in an aggressive stance, his face yelling something ulrian couldn't make out, but there were no kind words to come from that mouth. He was yelling incoherently, it looked as though he didn't understand what he was saying himself.
Ulrian saw near the entrance to the left a door, a child laying down near it tears streaming down his face, a never ending river. The child begging the man to calm down he kept yelling dad calm down. The father would just ignore the pleas of his kid. There was another he couldn't make out who it was, but then a lantern moved slightly and he saw her.
A woman wearing the most beautiful red dress one could imagine, it shone brighter than the stars out in the night her face, ulrian looked closer squeezing his eyes, she was an insectoid.
But one so beautiful, but right now the face didn't project her beauty, a smile that should've been there wasn't. Instead there were tears rolling down her eyes. She was desperately pleading for forgiveness, telling the man it was just a mistake– the man kept yelling louder and louder and louder, he then looked at the kid and told him to get lost and kept yelling at the kid to get out.
The kid for a whole 5 mins kept on staring back at his mother and father on repeat and as soon as the kid said anything–snapped the man at the kid again.
This time the kid sprinted to the door and left the tavern slamming the door behind Ulrian kept walking and saw the kid running from the side.
The boy's foot slipped on the mud.
He reaches out a hand to hold the kid up, but the kid slaps his hand aside and runs away.
Ulrian stares at the kid for a moment then starts slowly walking again–a huge clap came from the tavern that left the entire street quiet. Everyone paused for just a moment....the woman's pleading had stopped. Ulrian looked around for another moment–confused and split on what he should do.
He looked at Hamza, Hamza looked back at him but then continued walking again–Ulrian looked around and everyone started doing what they were doing before like nothing even happened.
He hated this feeling. He loathed it, this rightness in his chest. His feet frooze–just like that night he saw all of them. Their eyes staring into him the mix of blood all over his body. He felt so powerless.
He remembered visiting them at the graveyard. Their screams, begging him...
One step. That's all it would've taken.
But his legs didn't move.
The woman's voice was gone. The boy was gone.
All that was left was that silence. That damn silence.
Hamza didn't even look back.
Ulrian clenched his fists. His foot lifted. He looked at the door.
Then let it fall.
Nothing happened. He kept saying to himself. It wasn't his fault. He muttered lightly.
It's the same excuse he used all those years back.
Some things never change.
Hamza looked at Ulrian, clearly seeing he was a bit distressed.
"You'll get used to it or you won't, it doesn't matter either way"
And he pulled up his signature grin and started walking a bit faster than before.
They eventually reach a large building.
An apartment complex. It looked a bit run-down but was maintained better than most of the other buildings they had walked past.
Hamza pulled something out of his pocket before entering the building, then looked at ulrian.
"We're here–Home,Cheap home"
"Isn't the saying home sweet home?"
Ulrian remarked.
Hamza looked him straight in the eyes
"What do you find 'sweet' about this place?"
He said with a sly smile across his face.
.....Ulrian didn't answer.
"Exactly, now just follow me. I have to get my room key from the reception."
Hamza responded, the thing he pulled earlier was a card for his room. So they both went inside, and ulrian started looking at the place.
Again, this place was moderately clean and very well set up. It was the usual design that inn's usually had , the reception being immediately in front of them with the floors wooden, painted a dark brownish color.
Behind the reception was the staircase going up to the rooms, To the right there was a small doorway leading to a seating area–Most probably a dining area for either the residents or just a small restaurant for side income for this place.
The reception area was lit up by a large chandelier in the middle, normally these don't emit enough light. But since the area was small it worked quite well. And the entrance had a lamp post outside which brought in a little more light as well. The dining area had 2 small chandeliers and on the walls were candle stands lit up to light the area properly.
The reception table was basic in design as well–it copied the same brown color of the floor with intricate floral patterns etched towards the customer, in the middle the table had a candle holder with an unlit candle–smoke still on top of it. To the left of the candle was a complete teapot set–glass teacups and a glass plate beneath it. To the right was a small grandfather clock–with a calendar beside it.
It all looked cozy.
What was eye-catching was the person who was at the reception. It was a large, somewhat humanoid mushroom. Its top was red with white circles, and its eyes were small black dots–right eye wearing a golden monocle.
Its mouth was a simple line which opened ever so slightly. Its arms were thicker than mine–immediately ending in 3 fingers and a single thumb. It looked as if it had a friendly nature to it.
Its small mouth remained a gentle smile towards whoever it was talking to.
Then Ulrian noticed something he missed on the table, a golden nameplate.
The large mushroom's name was Percival Thorn.
Hamza went towards him and greeted him as Mr Thorn with a laugh–Percival reacted to him trying to match the energy. The man asked Hamza about his day and how it was. Hamza gave a bland answer, smiling. Then Percival noticed ulrian and asked
" Well who's this fine bloke here?" He asked with a heavy British accent.
"It's a friend of mine who came to visit me, it's not a problem if he stays with me, is it Mr Thorn.?"
" Ohoho it's no big deal dear. Any friends of yours are welcome to stay."
The mushroom said all jolly.
"If I may ask what's your name, young man?"
"Ulrian, Mr thorn. My names ulrian."
"Oh please call me Percival, This chap here is the only one who calls me Mr thorn" said percival looking straight at hamza
"I've told him a thousand times to call me by my name and yet he won't"
Hamza smiled more at the man.
"I just like calling you that"
"Oh well it is what it is, here is your key hamza, and you ulrian make yourself at home" said the mushroom extending his long arms and handing the key to hamza.
Hamza thanked Percival and gestured to Ulrian to follow him.
They went towards the stair and started walking up, Percival thorn looking at them with a smile. As they were walking on the wooden steps covered in red-wool—perhaps to lighten the sound of the creaking.
A kid came looking at Hamza, The small child its skin green as the kelp she probably eats for dinner, a mer-kid. The girl was wearing a small bowl on her head filled with water, her scales shone brighter at the slightest light touching them. She wore a plain blue frock–it seemed like cotton—with a white apron on top of it. None of them had any designs on them, they were as simple as they could be. She wore heavy black scuffed boots and mismatched woolen stockings, but they didn't seem out of place and would most likely be ignored by most people.
She yelped a little out of joy and ran to Hamza to give him a big hug, Hamza let out a small chuckle.
"Hey there Nellie, looked like you missed me didn't ya".
"No way, I was just waiting for you to come back and do what you promised me." The child said playfully.
"Oh now what was that, hmmmmm. I guess I forgot. Welp nothing to be done, i will now beat a hasty retreat to my room"
Hamza said as quickly as he could and started to fast walk towards his room, but the girl grabbed his leg tightly, refusing to let it go.
"NO NO NO NO, YOU PROMISED"the girl yelled lightly.
"You promised you'd come to my tea party!!!" The girl said to hamza. Kicking him with mock frustration.
Ulrian couldn't help but laugh a little at the scene.Hamza was smiling but his expression was obviously forced.
And as ulrian was laughing the girl looked at him dead in the eyes, ran to ulrian full speed and kicked his right leg as hard as she could and ran immediately behind hamza.
" Ah! the fuck, you little bitc--"
Ulrian didn't get to finish.
An arm materialized from his left and punched him straight in the face throwing him towards the right wall.
"Better learn to control your mouth around kids" Hamza said calmly "especially her"
"No one laughs at hamza"
The girl added, sticking her tongue out at ulrian. Ulrian stood up with a spur expression holding the left side of his face. His eyes wide with disbelief.
"This better not leave a mark"
Hamza only grinned wider.
"Who is this person with you?" The girl asked him
"He's a friend of mine, you can ask him his name if you want i'm sure he won't mind"
She walked up to Ulrian again who was still holding his face and asked with a Bright smile plastered along her face.
"Heelloo mister, my name is Eleanor! But everyone mostly calls me Nellie. That dude there is my big brother hamza. Well he isn't actually my big brother, I just call him that. I live here with my mom and dad and.."
The girl kept on giving her entire life details to Ulrian while he kept looking at her in utter confusion.
"Oh yeah what's your name mister!?"
She finally asked what she originally came to ask him.
"Ulrian"
"I don't have a nickname"
"Weakest caster"Hamza muttered under a fake cough. Making sure ulrian heard him.
"What was that?" Eleanor asked.
"Nothing," Ulrian said to her.
"Oh okay! Would you like to join my tea party ?Hamza is a guest for today!! You could also be a guest too!."
The girl said holding both her hands to the bowl on her head–squeezing her face on the bowl as well. Her eyes twinkled.
As ulrian was about to answer, when an older man yelled out her name.
"Eleanor!!!"
"Oh that's my dad I gotta go now, I gotta set my room up, i'll have the tea party ready later!! Byeeeeee"
And she ran back to her apartment room as she was completing her sentence.
Ulrian looked at hamza. His expression unreadable.
"....so, can I go to the tea party?"
"Absolutely not"
As Nellie or more accurately Eleanor left the hallway and went through her apartment door.
Everything went silent–besides the ticking of the clock on the walls of the stairwell and the sound of the wood creaking beneath their feet. Each step it felt as though the wood beneath the red lined carpet was giving in. But neither Hamza nor Ulrian spoke again for the rest of the walk.
As they were about to reach the end of the hallway, Hamza stopped in front of a door and pulled out the key Percival thorn had given him—as he placed the key in the key hole , a slight mechanical sound could be heard from it.
As the lock opened—Hamza grabbed the door handle firmly and twisted it while pushing into it.
And as the door opened a thin stream of amber light spilled out.
Hamza fully opened the door and went inside, ulrian followed.
There was a slight metallic and a citric smell all over the room.
It was a small place—two rooms from what it seemed. The main area as soon as you enter and a small bedroom hidden behind a half opened curtain.
But the main room...
It was a complete mess, chaos even.
And not the random kind, this was all intentional. Like every single item was placed with a thought—reason behind it.
There were shelves's clinging on to the walls, books shoved into them sideways. Papers with chicken scratch writing pinned to the walls. Items were hanging from the ceiling on a red thread,like meat in a butcher shop would.
A small lantern was hung up in the middle of the room by a thread that seemed almost invisible at first look.
The table in the center was full of random newspapers and more hand written notes. It even had some portraits on it. One of them had a girl on it with her entire mouth sewn up. One of them even looked like ulrian.
He ignored it and kept looking around
"You live here?" He then finally asked hamza. Walking ever so slowly.
"Yeah I do, it's cozy isn't it?"
Ulrian didn't respond.
His eyes kept looking around trying to find something normal about this place. He couldn't.
And as he was looking around he saw something at the far right corner of the room.
There was an altar lit up by blue flames around it. With a small flower in the center. In Front of it was a picture of a small boy. Smiling and waving his hands towards whoever took the photograph.
The boy had bright blue eyes and beautiful brown hair.
Beneath the photo a name was written in bold letters. HERMES
Below the photo—beneath the flower there was something written.
"Taken from us far too early
He will be remembered
A brave child he was"
Ulrian understood one thing from that, the kid was no longer here.
He looked at Hamza, still sitting in a chair.
"Who was this?"
Ulrian asked in a grey tone.
Hamza kept looking, but not at ulrian at the altar.
"I... don't want to talk about that"
Hamza said with a straight face.
Ulrian placed the altar down on the table from where he grabbed it.
He waited.
There was no follow–up.
Hamza stood up
"You want some tea?"
He asked calmly, with that fake grin again.
Ulrian shook his head.
"Suit yourself."
Hamza walked towards the bedroom and closed the half open curtain completely.
And as ulrian sat down in the main room he kept looking at the altar. The boy in the picture,the background suggests it was probably taken at a village because of the open fields behind.
Ulrian kept staring and asked to himself
"Who are you?" but the question wasn't directed at the boy in the photo. It was aimed straight at hamza.