"Era you are wearing down the floorboards."
He was pacing again. Or had he been pacing the whole time? He couldn't recall taking a break. The floor had always looked a little worn, but its boards still held their deep luster and he saw no signs of his anxious worry in their wood. He circled around the couch again and fell back into its cushions, his cherubic features twisted. "How long has it been?"
Miyami was rummaging through the cabinets in the great room. Going through various rolls of blank paper. Trying to find the perfect size for a new map. She paused in her search, twirling her fingers, a thick journal crackled and snapped into her waiting palm. Her head swiveled towards its fluttering pages while they stilled. Written in the neat swirling scripture of a time and people long forgotten, were entries of each day. Secondary eyelids shuttered as she scanned the page.
"It has been one moon cycle and two days in the material plane." She snapped the book shut and it disappeared in the same manner it appeared.
"That's too long." His voice was stringing with panic as he pulled at the ends of his hair. Grounds them audibly between his fingers.
She plucked a new roll from the cabinet, unwound it, held it in front of her, then rolled it back up with a dissatisfied huff. She repeated the process. "Dreams are not easy things for adults who've forgotten how to get here. I've given you the tethering spell. Just give it time. She will dream eventually and-"
"What if something bad has happened? I-" Era shook his head, flinging himself up he resumed his pacing.
Miyami closed the cabinet, her chosen canvas floating beside her as she glided towards him. "Do you think something bad has happened?"
"I don't know." His fingers crumbled and tore at the ends of his hair and it mixed with the sound of his pattering paces to create an anxious symphony.
The jackal eared woman laid a hand on his shoulder. "Sit down." Her voice dropped, losing its airy quality, becoming more real and human. How she used to sound when he was only a child.
He fell back into the sofa,her hand still firmly on his shoulder. Tears of frustration began to burn at the rings of his eyes and he balled his hand into them. "I don't know. The thing that followed her in was real. It took up the whole sky. It must've been the spirit but it was so much more powerful than the last time I saw it."
Miyami stared down at the man as he shrunk into himself. Thousands of years and he hadn't changed. Still a timid little rabbit, always running in circles and worried. Sometimes he could kick and bite, but that was hardly ever. "I will not hold your love against you but I will say that giving Nisha what he wanted was fool hearted."
Era let out a sad laugh. "I admit that it has had its consequences and divert the blame to me that lived and breathed. I am only a copy of what he intentionally left behind to deal with the aftermath of it all."
"The soul might have moved on but you are still very much you. A soul is a soul that can be anyone, but a person -an individual- is unique. You are Era and there has never been and will never be another Era." Her ears pulled back as her eyebrows raised and she gave him a scornful look. "Besides, if you were just a copy of who you were when you were alive, why would you ever leave all of your insecurities and bad habits?"
"So the soul didn't drag them with it into its next life?" He offered meekly.
"Psssshh. The soul took so much of you with it that I could hardly tell the difference between you two."
"Oh c'mon, Mi. She looks nothing like me."
Miyami clicked her tongue, bounced her head from side to side. "She looks a lot like Nisha though, no? The black hair and those yellow eyes? That intense face?
"My eyes do not see others for who they are but everything they wish to be, Era. And she looks just like you." She asserted with steady squished irises; the only part of her that did not twitch or roll. "I'd bet she's of some descended people of the Vanyn. The soul took inspiration from you and your love and it sought out a body amongst his lineage, no doubt."
His face grew pink and his heart swelled. It wasn't like he hadn't had the same thought himself. How Korin looked so identical to the warrior who had lived tens of thousands of years ago. Nisha was a man well muscled and tall for the Vanyn, and though that differed from Korin petite physique, they had the same face and a similar demeanor.
He loved it and at the same time was embarrassed his obsession had been so intense. Well after all, he has groomed to revere Nisha. To submit to the warrior at all junctions and at any cost.
"Don't think about it too hard, Era."
"I can't help myself." A glimmering tear rolled from the corner of his eyes and was soaked up by stray strands of soft chestnut hair. More tears followed, the angelic man somehow even more beautiful when he wept. "I have been dead for so long and still the emotions of my life haunt me."
Miyami sympathized in the only way she knew how, "nobody understands a proper haunting like the dead," awkwardly patting her friend on the back.
Era and Nisha had grown together. Spent their life in the same monastery, one reliant on the other. Or it would be better phrased that Nisha grew up in the monastery as a divinely selected overseer of Era, who was a prisoner amongst the monks.
Of course, Era had not always known of his imprisonment.
*
It was just before the winter of his sixth year when the monks found him. He was an orphan cold and hungry, with gaunt cheeks and bruises across his face from being smacked when trying to steal a dinner roll from a local baker. He and the baker were well acquainted. It wasn't the first time the boy had been caught with an iron weighted back hand, but unknown to either of them, it would be the last. The baker would wonder of the fate of the little orphan for a few moons after, eventually accepting he most likely had died with a hint of sadness and regret.
In the little ways that strangers will sometimes influence each other for the rest of their lives, the baker would go on to give many rolls to hungry children, thinking of the little rascal who always stole from him. Each roll placed in wanting and hungry hands a repentance for the smacks he'd given to the starving boy.
However the orphan did not die.
Like many orphans he was plucked from the gutters and slop in the alleyways.
A man with deep brown eyes and a kind smile had approached him like he was a wild animal scared out of its mind. A steaming fresh skewer of chicken held out timidly and with caution. A gentle voice cooing that it was, 'okay'.
Era's stomach let out a twisted growl. Before he was even aware of his actions, he swiped the skewer away from the strange man. The hot chicken burnt his tongue, little grunts sounding between mouthfuls.
He could not remember the last time he had meat. What he mostly ate was bread he managed to swipe from the baker or veggie scraps from the garbage of restaurants. Sometimes there had been leftover meats with vegetable cuttings and uneaten rice. An enticing trap for a starving child. Era learned very fast the dangers of food poisoning and had since avoided the thrown out bits of carrion.
The fresh chicken was heaven. Spiced, salted and juicy, it filled his mouth with savory bliss and his little mind with pictures of farms and morning sunshine.
"Easy." The man grabbed his hand, pulling the remaining chicken away from smacking lips and clacking teeth. The kid ate like a insecure dog. "You'll make yourself sick."
Era flinched at the contact. Then his eyes widened as he looked at the man and then back to the chicken he had been unable to resist. He shook his head in slow horror, trying to push himself further back into the wall he sat against. "I'm sorry."
He knew of the men who'd come to the back alleys and offer food and shelter. Of course it always came with a price.
The children of the streets left never to return again. Era had avoided those men, afraid of their false promises, costly propositions, and bad intentions.
"It's alright." The man let go of his hand and Era immediately tried to give back the skewer. The man shook his head with a lightly raised hand. "Go on and eat the rest… slowly."
Era didn't move.
The man eyebrows knitted together. "What's wrong?"
With his head hung he refused to make eye contact, the chicken still lamely held out in front of him. A smarter kid would have dropped it and ran, but the hunger in his stomach seized control of his arm and his fingers gripped the stick painfully tight. He ate no more of it though. At least he had that much control.
"I'll pay you back for the chicken, but I won't go work at the brothels like the other kids."
"Oh? Oh!" The man exclaimed, "Oh great heavens no!" Taken aback and suddenly worried about more than just the young boy before him. He looked over his shoulder and around the alley for any lurking lechers.
"I'm from a monastery in the north." He did not offer a hand in a typical handshake but instead pressed his fists together and politely bowed his head. "My name is Father Lionel. My acquaintances and I have been looking for you all over."
Era was skeptic, as any street runt should be, but still curious enough to pause and question the situation. He observed him, taking in his soft linen robes, of simple browns and creams, and the docile nature of his face and posture. Father Lionel certainly looked like a monk.But the brothels and harems were full of gentle men and he could still be a snake tongued recruiter.
"Looking for me?"
"Mmhmm." he said with a nod. "You have very special powers."The monk kept his distance from the scared child, crouching down to try and be small and non threatening.
'Don't be fooled by honeyed works, Era. People who tell you you're special or better than others, it's one of their traps.' The cautionary world of one of the older boys rang through his head.
"Solstice said not to trust people like you."
"It is natural to be cautious." The crouching monk, now sat, crossing his legs in front of him and soiling his robes with the oily crust that coated everything in the back alleyways of the metropolis. Father Lionel was unaccustomed to such large cities. Being from the countryside of a small kingdom, he found the empire and its mega cities to be quite terrifying. Especially for a young homeless orphan. "This is not an environment where trust grows."
In the imperial cities, the homeless, disabled, orphaned, and undesired were pushed and beaten off the main streets and into alleyways and designated slums in the outskirts. Laws enforced with spears and swords kept them essentially locked in their poverty and sickness. In a world where one's life had no value and support was hard to come by, crime and exploitation thrived.
"This Solstice seems like a good friend."
Era shrugged. Solstice was smart, but Era didn't know if he would consider him a 'friend'. Era didn't know if he believed in friends but he did know that Solstice was cunning and a survivor. He looked after the other kids in his own way.If there was such a thing as trust, it was something only Solstice had earned among them.
"Do you stay here with him?" Now that the father was looking around, their immediate surroundings looked desolate and empty. Scattered little tents and forts made of thin boards and raggedy tarps sat quiet.
"No." Era shook his head. "Solstice lives in the red light district." As far as he knew he had been born there to a beautiful courtesan of a renowned establishment.
"Ah, I see." The father mumbled quietly observing the little fist with white knuckles stubbornly refusing to eat anymore. "Well I can assure you, I am not here to prey on you. I only wish to help."
The boy thought for a moment before rising to his feet and sliding along the wall. The half eaten skewer fell from his hands as he finally found the courage to let go. Little tinges of regret struck his heart as the white meat flecked with dirt and filth. The rancid ground claimed it immediately.
"I'm leaving now." He said as his stomach growled and he turned on heel, moving deeper into the alley. Little alarm bells began to ring in his head when the monk stood faster than he'd sat, protest already in his breath and a hand reaching out.
Era began to run. Dipped into the little maze he knew best, weaving through makeshift huts and piles of rubbish. He didn't look back until he was three streets deep. The monk was no where in sight. Or at least he thought until he turned back around and the father stood a few meters away. His face was flush and he was panting heavily.
"Phew, you're fast!" He said with a laugh.
The orphan only scowled, turned on heel and bolted right into a solid body.
He crashed into the ground.
"My apologies child." Before Era was another man and woman. The man was unlike any he had ever seen before. He was the color of dusk. Swimming and alive, on his skin the sun perpetually sunk beyond the horizon. His eyes were starry navy with long hair to match.
Beside him was a delicate looking woman with tall dog-like ears and odd eyes. One of the homunculi from the western continent. "We really mean you no harm, but you must come with us."
This time, he shot off with desperation, faked a step and scurried between the two beings and was off again.
His shirt snagged in his brief escape and his feet left the ground. The man of hazy blues and purples easily plucked him from the ground and held him out as he began to thrash and kick. Era's face grew red with anger and his fear began to stink up the air around them. He started to shriek out curses.
"Now that's enough of that." The beings marble smooth voice had a retained annoyance. His hand raised in a flash. Era flinched, expecting another black eye, as black lacquered fingers flicked forward. White and sparkling dust splashed over the kids face. Coated him in its shimmering thin clouds.
Era fell limp, still dangling in the air.
"Moon! Was that necessary?"
The astral being shrugged. "I do not want to remain in this human city any longer. It is quite unfavorable. I wish to return to the monastery and this is the fastest way to do so."
"Unfortunately, I agree with Moon, Miyami." Father Lionel was dusting off his robes as he approached, having finally caught his breath. "This city is dangerous. We've been extremely lucky to find him before anyone else. We should leave while no one is none the wiser."
Miyami took the boy from the astral being. In his unconscious state his limbs naturally hugged onto her and she held him easily. He was small and starvation had made him feather light. "O! He weighs nothing, the poor thing."
"A very sad situation indeed." Father Lionel shook his head, lips pulled tight, brow crested in silent anguish.
"There are eyes and ears unseen in these alleys." Moon interrupted, already weaving his arm under Father Lionel's and around his waist. "We need to leave."
"Ugh." Miyami rolled her eyes. "Realms forbid you ever indulge in a soft moment."
Moon said nothing, feet lifting from the ground, his shimmering dust dancing around him and the monk. Miyami followed suit and they were off. Magic carrying them above and beyond the city, towards the north.