Chapter Text
Away from the well-traveled paths of the town and beneath the cloudy night sky, one saw nothing else but the dark alleys of decrepit buildings, mud, and dead grass. It was a far cry from the home he left. How does a place feel alive and dead at once?
Aru wrapped the patchy cloak around him like a blanket as he huddled within the culvert. All the other possible shelters were already occupied, he quickly found, but luckily his small size afforded him this refuge all to himself. A storm drain, by the look of it. Quite unlike the more... pungent locations.
Pleasantly enough, his satchel, woven with care from threadlike vines, remained where he left it - at the far end of the drain. He hugged it close - the one thing he could bring with him - despite being empty of anything useful, it smelled and felt like a glade deep within a forest. A fitting pillow to sleep on.
Dust blew into the air. He sneezed, but only silence followed. Out of habit, he brought a hand to his throat and felt the smooth imprint of the glyph wrapped around his neck. At least it helped him stay hidden.
His stomach rumbled, a reminder of today's success. He knew not where his next meal would come from, and he pondered leaving altogether and risking the wilderness past the city's outskirts.
He flicked a pebble and watched it skip out into the blackness beyond. Yes, he could survive out there on his own. But for how long? He would eventually need help from somebody, and if he could not find that somebody, then his days were already numbered.
He cozied up as much as possible for the night, rested his head on the makeshift pillow, and sighed. Sleep eventually stole Aru away from his troubles.
He soon found himself within a glade of ancient gnarled trees. Twilight gleamed through the canopy and dappled the forest floor. A robed human lay face-down in the grass before him, having nestled between the massive roots of one tree for a quick rest. Aru never saw one so close to home before.
Pity weighed heavily on him. The forests of the Feywild were treacherous, even for Aru, and would soon claim this careless traveler as it had for countless others. He pushed him over by the shoulder, revealing a pale, youthful complexion with a dazed half-awake look in his eyes.
Blood soaked through a tear in his clothes along his lower torso. Not resting, Aru realized - some creature ambushed and wounded him.
The possibility of the creature still lurking nearby put him on alert and he turned to depart, but then he paused. While they weren’t far from the sanctuary of the Spirit Tree, mending a wound like this would drain him considerably and make the return home even more difficult, to say nothing of dragging them back. But… with home so close, could he walk away and let them join the fate of so many others?
He turned back to the human, then back to the forest in the direction of home. Then back again. At last, he accepted the risk and knelt over the human.
He focused, preparing himself for the exertion, and held his hands over the wound. Their surroundings brightened as his palms glowed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the human’s eyes snap onto his. Before he could react, a hand darted out and clamped over his throat.
Alarmed, Aru gasped and struggled, but the vicelike grip held fast and pulled him close. Now eye-to-eye, the human bored into him while his face slowly contorted into unnatural shapes.
He sputtered through distorted lips, “Well now, what’s this pretty thing doing out here?”
The twilit glade dissipated as Aru awoke to the sensation of his makeshift pillow dragging out from under him. A wiry, tough-looking human stood over Aru’s culvert in the half-light of dawn, groping and rummaging through his sparse belongings before settling on the 'pillow.'
The mugger smiled at the waking creature before him, “I think I need this, don’t you?” and yanked the bag free.
Aru jolted awake, fumbled after it, and pulled it back, but the human's strength more than matched his and yanked him out of the shelter of the storm drain.
Before Aru could regain his footing, a sinewy fist struck his face. He recoiled with a noiseless yelp, lost his grip, and tumbled backward into a heap in the mud. His assailant lowered himself in a mock bow and a crooked yellow grin, “I’m glad you agree, thank you so much,” and walked away.
Aru clenched his jaw past the dull throb and glowered at the departing mugger. Rage burned his chest, but his resolve deflated soon after. He could not afford the risk, especially after how easily they tossed him aside.
After a moment, hunger joined the pain, leaving him lightheaded, nauseous, and battered. He pulled himself out of the mud and retreated into his den and checked himself. Nothing broken, at least. Nothing that needed fixing. Just a growing welt on his brow. And his satchel.
He ran his hands through his ears and pressed his forehead against the wall. His satchel…, the only memento of a life he yearned to return to. A risk, a mistake - and banishment took it all away. Now it too was gone. He sniffled and drew in a long shuddering breath.
He sat there for a time, gazing at the sunlight creeping in along the wall. Some distant tree swayed and caught the sun, animating the wall in dappled shadows. Eventually, growing pangs and light of day forced him to depart. He held his head low, his cloak and hood about him, and trudged down the street toward the tavern again.
***
As he muddled through the cobblestone streets, head down, dodging folk of all shapes and sizes, worry joined his hunger and headache - how much longer did he have before retreating into the wilderness grew beyond his reach?
Smells and sounds uncharacteristic of the route he became familiar with now wafted through the air in dizzying combinations and drew him from his thoughts. He looked up, his downcast mood replaced with surprise and awe at what he saw.
Whether it was from the headache, hunger, or both, his wandering brought him into a marketplace within the town. Crowds of people, animals, and wares bustled through a plaza lined with endless rows of stalls, all packed with items from abroad. Heaps of spices dazzled him with their earthy tones, and through it all, a cacophony of noise buzzed in his ears. He stood in the middle of it all, like a stone caught in the flow.
A warm, gentle, comforting smell carried through the air. His mouth watered and his stomach rumbled with insistence. Without thinking, he followed the scent until he reached one stall in particular.
Baskets lined the stall, each brimming with golden-brown loaves of various shapes and sizes and kept warm beneath the sun. His head swam - the aroma filled his nose now - but despite the hunger and the allure, caution held him in place. Given his previous experiences in the tavern, something important must be missing here.
A steady stream of people came and went as Aru watched. Then a rakish and somewhat gaunt man walked past the stall and, without stopping, took a loaf.
Aru’s eyes widened. Was it that easy? Did he starve needlessly? He hurried over and lifted a rounded loaf from its basket. Crust crackled gently under his eager grip, the scent overpowering and comforting at the same time.
As he drew in for a bite, he heard a shout from behind the stall, “Hey! Guards!”
Aru recoiled in alarm as several armed guards rushed toward him - and then brushed past in the direction of the person he saw earlier. Aru stood transfixed, rooted in place as he watched them go. After a moment, they returned, dragging the thief with them and returning the loaf to the stall.
Aru looked back down at the loaf in his hands, then at the thief being carried off, and promptly returned it with the rest. Confusion crossed his face. Other people walked away with bread in their possession without issue. What is happening here?
After a moment of observation, he noticed they were handing over something in return: small, shiny, and round objects that glittered in the morning light. They looked just like what he saw piled on tables in the tavern, but he just now drew the connection.
So that’s what he was missing.
He wondered where he could get some of these coins for himself. Must he give something in return for them as well? Where would he get them, anyway? He scratched his head, unsure of his next move. His belly grumbled in protest at the denied meal, and another wave of fatigue washed over him. He sighed and continued down the row of stalls.
Away from the shaded stalls, his cloak grew stuffy and hot beneath the heat of the sun. It was probably safe enough around here, like it was in the tavern, so he lowered his hood.
He continued past the people and the endless varieties of things - none which fascinated him now - blurring now in the daze of heat and hunger until he reached the far end of the marketplace, where the buildings and streets and alleys resumed their winding and twisting maze.
At this end of the marketplace, several people in dirty clothes or rags and bundles rested or stood in little places, either out of the way or strategically located near the flow of people. Some held small cups or bowls, while others could merely reach out with a hand. Occasionally a passing stranger would stop and toss, drop, or press coins into a weathered palm.
Aru watched this play out a few times. He did not fully understand what this was - whether there was something about this that he overlooked - but if this was a means of obtaining what he needed then he must try.
Still amid the flow of people, he cupped his hands and held them toward anyone passing by. They mostly ignored him, occasionally earning some spiteful looks for his clumsy begging.
His arms grew sore after a while. At last, he lowered them and wandered to the sun-baked wall of a shop away from the crowd, and sat down. If there was no place for him here, if not even basic survival made itself available, then he must realize that soon. Strangely, his belly kept its counsel this time.
“That wasn’t the worst attempt I’d ever seen,” a voice startled him from his thoughts.
Another man dressed in very modest and somewhat dirty clothing sat right beside him. Aru saw faces young, old, and everything in between in his short time here, and this man seemed to be somewhere toward the younger side, with some clear signs of the years wearing him down.
The man smiled as the small figure evaluated him, and continued, “Haven’t seen you before. I figure I’d remember a face like that. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s your name?”
A pang of doubt and wariness crossed Aru’s heart. His interactions with others so far went poorly, to say the least, and at this point, he did not want to suffer another. But this was the first time someone spoke directly to him.
He took the chance. His mouth formed around the shape of his name, but his voice was utterly absent. Caught up in his own musings, he forgot. Embarrassment and shame crossed his face, and he looked away.
But the man merely furrowed his brow, “Can’t talk, eh? ‘Ahh-roo?’ Was that your name?”
Aru looked at him again, eyes wide, and nodded. He understood!
“Name’s Geoff, but my friends call me Geoff,” he grinned at himself.
Aru could not help but smile as well as he shaped the name given to him, the day thus far fading from his mind. Then his stomach grumbled.
Geoff chuckled, “Me too, kid,” then paused and scratched his head, “Wait, how old are you?”
Aru furrowed his brow and tapped his chin. He then pointed at Geoff and tilted his head.
“Thirty-two winters myself,” recounted Geoff, “Why?”
Aru pointed again at Geoff, then clasped his hands together and drew them apart to the width of his own head. Geoff squinted, puzzled, then realized what he meant and nodded. Aru then pointed at himself, put his hands together, and drew them apart with his arms fully outstretched.
Geoff gasped, “You can’t be serious. You’re that old?”
Much to Geoff’s confusion, Aru shook his head. His hands returned to their original width, then outstretched once more, then back again.
This confused Geoff even more, “Well, either way, I think we can help each other with something.”
Aru tilted his head.
“You won’t have to do anything. Just let me handle it,” Geoff stood and gestured for Aru to follow. They stood before the flow of people. Aru did not know what to expect, but he saw no reason not to go along with this for now. Geoff made no move to hold out a hand or a bowl, or otherwise indicate his desire for money.
A well-dressed elf passed them by, taking one look at Geoff with a barely concealed sneer.
Geoff sprang into action, "Sir, spare something for the boy!” The elf halted, his sneer replaced by disdain at the interruption of his walk. Undeterred, Geoff gestured to Aru, still dressed in his muddy rags, “Look at him, misshapen and cursed to glow for the rest of his days! He cannot even steal bread without being caught! Take pity on the poor soul!"
Aru looked upward at the elf, who reluctantly reached into one of his many pockets and walked toward them. Geoff prodded Aru, “Hold out your hand,” he whispered. Aru did so just as several shiny round objects clinked into his open palms. The elf walked off, but not before casting one final look at Geoff.
Aru stared in disbelief at the coins glittering in the sun. Five in all, three of them burnished brown, while the last two shone in a remarkable shade of white and gray.
Geoff plucked one of the latter and bit down on it. Satisfied that it did not bend, he returned it and smiled at Aru, “Well done! Let’s get some food,” and strolled down the plaza with Aru following behind.
They soon arrived at the same bakery stall as before. With the morning rush over, a much smaller amount of people stopped by. Many baskets now lay empty save for a few spare loaves. A dwarf wearing a fine mesh over his beard drummed his knuckles on the counter as they approached.
Geoff stood off to the side, “you earned it, you get first pick.”
Coins in hand, Aru stepped up to the counter, whose top he could barely see, and placed them all onto the surface. He then stared at the dwarf, who stared in turn. A moment passed.
Geoff stepped in, “Ah, forgive him, he never learned to count,” and plucked the silvers until only the three bronze coins remained, “Two, please.”
Geoff knelt down and whispered to Aru, “Sorry, I forgot,” a sheepish wince on his face.
A brief exchange and return to the wall later, Aru found himself devouring an entire loaf of bread on the spot. Though the bread tasted bland and felt coarse in his teeth, hunger diminished with every chunk he tore off, chewed, and swallowed. His spirits gradually lifted until he felt wholly present in the world once more, and absorbed the radiant colors, scents, and clamor of the market around him with renewed curiosity and vitality.
Geoff watched this change in demeanor playing out before him. Little mannerisms both before and after the meal told him that life here was a foreign thing for this strange fellow. He knew firsthand the kinds of people that would not hesitate to take advantage of that.
He felt the two silver coins in the hidden pocket. Speaking of, he needed to squirrel this away before anything else could happen. It would keep them going for a few more days. The least he could do was offer something in return.
“Ah-roo, do you have a place to stay?” he asked.
Aru pulled himself out of his reverie to consider this direct question. Answering truthfully seemed harmless enough, so he nodded.
“Is it safe? Comfortable?”
He shook his head.
Geoff nodded thoughtfully, “I figured as much. Your pardon, but you look the part too.”
Aru chewed slowly on the last chunk of bread. What was he getting at?
“Mary and I, we have our own place. It’s not much,” he admitted, “but I don’t think she would object too much to having a guest over. At least for a while. What do you make of it?”
Aru bobbed his head excitedly.
Geoff laughed, “Come on, then. It’s a bit of a walk.”
As they departed out of the marketplace, Aru pondered on the day thus far. Geoff may have guessed correctly, but he was also the first person who didn’t want him to go away, who didn’t treat him with suspicion or distrust, and who made an effort to understand him.
Perhaps he didn’t need to leave after all.