I looked at him with a deadpan expression.
"What?" He almost seemed offended by my lack of enthusiasm.
'Never mind that I gave you your name because you look like a bird. 'Boy' is a terrible name! So lazy too, and it looks like you went to such great effort to come up with it!'
"N-nothing!" I forced a smile. "I was just shocked, that's all...!"
He narrowed his eyes at me, still smiling. "Alright, well you'd better be thankful! That's a great name, I say!"
"Yeah..."
Not long after the conversation died down, I couldn't put it off any longer; it was bound to happen. With my injury treated, water and food secured, and even someone who, hopefully, wouldn't stab me in the back while I slept, there wasn't much keeping the thoughts at bay.
I started thinking about home. Had Mom called the cops yet? Were they searching for me? She didn't deserve to lose more people in her life, and yet I was gone. Somehow I had ended up in another world altogether; I didn't even know if there was a way back.
"I hope she's gonna be okay..." I ended up wondering out loud.
"Hm?" Owl lifted an eyebrow.
"My mom, I mean. It was just the two of us back home. I hope she's going to be okay," I said, looking back at him. Then I remembered something. "Wait. 'Vagrants,' like me? What does that mean? Are there more people like me who just fall out of the sky?"
Nodding as if remembering something, he said, "Indeed, I almost forgot. Yes, there are many like you. Well, maybe not many of your race; I've never seen a..."
"Human," I finished.
"Yes, a human. I've never seen a human before. Although..." He paused. "You might just be a new race. I haven't left the fortress in a few years now."
"So you're saying there could be more humans out there?"
He gave me a pondering look.
"In the fortress? No chance. The vagrant phenomenon usually doesn't happen in the same place twice. But out there, in the immensity of the heavens? Sure. Hell, you might find your whole race out there for all I know... But usually... vagrants are not so lucky."
"Explain?"
"Well, from what I know, and it's not much, vagrants are individuals unfortunate enough to pass through destabilized space, yet lucky enough not to be shredded in the process. Take that with a grain of salt though; I heard it from a guy who heard it from another guy who was just one of a long chain of people that claimed a demigod told him about it."
"Either way, that phenomenon happens when a world is about to be pulled into the heavens. The "about to" window can be as small as a year or as large as a millennium, so most vagrants never live long enough to be reunited with their race." Seeing me get my hopes up just to have them crushed again, he apologized. "Sorry, Boy. That's just how it is. I don't like to sugarcoat it; you shouldn't expect to see the people you knew again."
He took another swig of his liquor and offered it to me.
"I can't drink, I'm not old enough."
He stared at me for a bit, as if I'd grown a second head.
"You do you, Boy."
The amulet started flickering, imposing a timer on our conversation.
"Well, I guess time is up. You should get some rest and heal. If I'm not here when you wake, I'll already be out hunting. I should be back by nightfall... if I'm not..."
"Then you're probably dead," I concluded, seeing the look in his eyes.
He smirked. "Smart."
He fished out a small translucent crystal. "This is an energy core. You can take them from the bodies of the skinless abominations. They can be used for magic or for more mundane tasks. They're quite delicate, so you have to be careful; should one break, a massive explosion could occur." He smirked and tossed it to me. I scrambled to catch it, not letting it fall. He doubled over laughing. "Sorry, kid — I lied. They're pretty sturdy."
"Hey!" I feigned anger.
"That's where the lie ends, though. If they get so much as a hairline crack, say from a hammer strike, the explosion would be violent." He turned serious. "There are some hubs in the kitchen downstairs you can use to cook. Just look for a slot the core will fit into and it'll power the device on."
"And, well... if one of those things finds you... you can bite down on it. At least you would be the one choosing the way you go out, right?" he said in a somber but sarcastic tone.
"Anyway, have a good night." He wrapped himself with a bundle of sheets on the ground, and in less than ten seconds was already snoring lightly, leaving me mouth-half agape, digesting what he'd just said.
"Choose the way I go out, huh..." I muttered as I huddled, hugging my backpack and using it as a pillow in my corner.
I closed my eyes and slipped into that half-awake state before sleep. Thoughts came and went: how my mother would cope, whether I would ever see her again. Then the faces of my friends — Sophia, Aiden. Would I see them again? Would they even want to see me?
Since Dad died, my whole life had been running. He had been an Olympic medalist, the greatest runner I've ever known and the best father I could have asked for. Even though he trained most of the time, he always made time for Mom and me. I wanted to be like him. And then he died. I don't know when along the road of grief I decided that becoming better than him, earning gold where he earned silver, would be the way to make him proud wherever he was.
My mind drifted back to the fight with my friends. I almost never made time for them... I don't remember the last time Mom and I had breakfast together. Had I made the wrong choice?
That thought hammered at me unanswered for a long time. No matter how I tried to divert from it, it always returned.
'It doesn't matter anymore. Set aside that I'm not even on Earth anymore; my leg is... I'll never run like I used to again.'
'The faster I get over it, the better.' My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.
'It's only the right thing to do. I have to accept it.' I grit my teeth.
'Why does it hurt so much, though?'
I slept without an answer, drifting into a restless dream in the dark attic.
ººº
I stood before the largest tree I had ever seen, my feet digging into glassy white sand. Its branches pointed up toward a sky filled with stars, like a hand with thousands of fingers. It was a different sky than I remembered. There were no constellations, nebulas, or galaxies — just motes of fire like fireflies.
The wind howled through the branches, wailing, crying for something that never was. Leaves sprouted in them, but then slid off, transforming into droplets that thundered on the white sands below. They evaporated into a mist of tears that smelled faintly of memory — of futures that never came to be.
In the starry sky, one mote stirred and fell, dancing its way through the rain of tears, its golden light shining through them all. It sank into the roots of the tree; out of sight.
On a falling droplet I saw myself; the golden light revealed a medal—my medal. I knew that was me, but I also knew it was not and never would be. I stood alone on a high pedestal, and despite the achievement I did not smile. My eyes were empty; the only thing left for me at the end, had been regret.
The droplet was gone. The dream was gone, too.
What was it that fell beneath the crying tree?
ººº
I jolted awake, hitting my head on the slanted roof of the attic. It was tall but tapered at the edges. Rubbing my aching head, I looked around. The attic was dark; the amulet's light had long since gone out. I pulled my phone from my pocket, turned on the screen, and saw the battery was already at 8% and the time read 7:09 AM. 'Not much left...'
Nearly dropping the phone, I remembered my alarm was set for 7:10, so I quickly disabled it before it went off. 'Phew.'
Finally I looked around the room.
'He's gone, huh.' I had looked forward to not being alone after that dream. But this was fine too.
My stomach rumbled. 'I have to prepare something to eat. I noticed Owl hadn't offered any food. He seemed polite enough to have offered some if there had been any.'
Drinking water to curb the hunger, I refilled my bottle at the copper tank.
Checking my belongings and readying the knife in my hand, I slowly let down the trapdoor and ladder. I noticed a pair of footprints in the dust leading away toward the stairs below.
'Now, to survive one more day.' I went down.