Nocth lifted another spoonful from the steaming bowl, the grain curling and floating like strands of captured sunlight before settling on his tongue. The warmth spread slowly, a strange comfort that reminded him of… nothing. Yet the sensation tugged somewhere deep, like a memory half-remembered but impossible to place. He ate in silence, careful, methodical, letting the flavors settle like small, unclaimed treasures.
Imius, as usual, could not.
"So, most of the time here in Nareth'Qel," Imius began, elbows planted on the table, leaning close to Nocth in that way that made privacy impossible, "it isn't exactly… smooth sailing." He tilted his head, eyes scanning the diners in a mischievous arc. "Families get affected, see? The males, at least—they get tied up with some… high-up stratum things." He waved a hand vaguely toward the elegant girl at the table across the hall—the Saevereth girl. "Of that caliber? They just sit in cages of their own making, enjoying the leftovers of glory handed down by some old fossils who've lived for who knows how long. And if you ask me…" He leaned closer, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, "maybe those fossils hide underground like monks—pretending they don't care about the mundane world while secretly plotting how to use their descendants as pawns for some massive… unseen battles. Can you imagine that?"
He punctuated the words with expressive, rolling gestures—fingers waving, eyebrows dancing, lips stretching into sarcastic arcs—and leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, like he had just solved a cosmic puzzle in his own head.
Nocth didn't look up. He chewed slowly, the movement precise, almost mechanical, yet entirely unselfconscious. His eyes, dull yet piercing, scanned the hall absentmindedly, drinking in the strange lights, the floating trays, the pulsing arches. His hand hovered over the bowl between bites, careful not to spill.
Imius blinked. Then blinked again.
"Uh…" Imius muttered, frowning as he watched Nocth eat like a person trying to figure out gravity for the first time. "Okay… I guess you're… really… committed to that?"
Nocth swallowed and looked at him briefly, tilting his head ever so slightly. "What?"
Imius's mouth quirked. "Nothing. Never mind." He waved a hand like a magician brushing away an audience's curiosity. But the subtle tilt of his head betrayed confusion—this was not the usual reaction he expected from a friend.
Across the hall, one of the boys by the Saevereth girl leaned over. "Maybe that's how those savages from the outer colonies behave," he said, snickering.
The girl frowned, her gaze still on Nocth. Disgust? Curiosity? Both? She didn't move her lips, but her brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to measure some hidden truth. One of the boys next to her leaned in, whispering, "Hey, the look she's giving… I think it's curiosity, not disgust." A flash of jealousy flickered across his face.
Meanwhile, Nocth tilted his head, still chewing. He raised a finger from his bowl and pointed to a floating tray, then paused, brow furrowed slightly. "What is this?" His voice was soft, polite, almost naive—the kind of tone a person uses when trying to ask a question without revealing how little they know.
Imius snorted and leaned back, letting out a small whistle. "You're really… something else." He mimicked Nocth's exact motion, pointing at a tray with exaggerated precision, mouth forming a perfect copy of Nocth's quiet question. Then he whispered under his breath, just enough for Nocth to hear, "Eating like a tiny, confused emperor…"
The three kids across the hall stiffened. One spat a curse in low tones. "Insolent," the boy muttered. "Uncultured brat."
Imius grinned, shrugging dramatically. "What can I say? Some of us are born to talk nonsense." His eyes flicked toward the girl, playful and daring, as if challenging her patience. A few others around them laughed quietly, some smirking, some openly entertained by the spectacle.
From the corner of the hall, Karkos's voice cut through. "Imius!" It was calm but heavy, like a stone sliding down a slope. "Stop messing around. This is a place for eating, not performing."
Imius raised both hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Sheesh." He rolled his eyes, glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin, and shot a playful, mischievous look toward the three teens. The gesture was small but full of insolent charm—a silent "deal with it" that made the girl huff softly, a hand flicking at her hair.
Nocth, however, remained absorbed in the table, in the strange weight of his meal, the textures, the scents. Everything around him pulsed faintly with unfamiliarity, a foreign warmth that was at once confusing and oddly… comforting. He didn't know why the sensation made his chest feel heavier, his mind warmer, or why it felt like a memory trying to push its way through a fog he couldn't pierce.
Imius noticed, finally, and leaned closer, resting an elbow on the table. "You know," he said, voice softening, "it's kind of funny—watching you eat like that… reminds me of someone. Or maybe some time. Not sure. But it's… warm. Makes me feel like we've done this before, even if we haven't. Weird, huh?" He laughed lightly, more nervous than he let on, gesturing vaguely at Nocth's careful eating.
Nocth blinked, the strange heat creeping into the edges of his awareness. His lips curved slightly—but awkwardly—into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Imius leaned back, delighted, chuckling. "There! See? Not so serious. You're not the fabled Anu or anything."
Nocth's awkward smile faltered a bit. It was like trying to stretch a glove over a hand that didn't quite fit.
Imius nudged him gently. "Don't worry, we'll work on that." He laughed again, the sound light and infectious, echoing faintly across the hall. Around them, diners continued their own strange, elegant rituals of feasting and conversation, but in this small bubble of space, time slowed. The festival, the city, even the floating trays became background noise.
For once, Nocth didn't feel like a stranger.
He felt… slightly at home.