"I know you're starving, but you must eat slowly..."
"Mm."
Hope hid his frown as he placed the cloth over his lips, ignoring the people's darting eyes in his direction as the taste of blood and metal replaced the flavored meal in his mouth.
"Suppose I need something to cover my eyes as well..."
"What was that?" The old man asked.
But Hope didn't respond.
In fact, Hope didn't pay much attention to the old man anymore as he was recollecting his thoughts.
Maybe it wasn't just Hope's eyes that caused it. But his whole presence played a part as well. Or to a lesser degree?
Wasn't there also a saying of 'eyes are the windows to the soul?'
'Tsk. That'll be one hell of an aspect if someone had a power like that.'
"What a strange newcomer that one is."
"Who is he? Can't be from Sector One do you think?"
"Do you think the government will intervene again?"
"So far we have been doing fine just by ourselves. Why do we need their help now? Not that it ever worked before-"
"Hush!"
Hope listened to the people's conversations that buzzed in and out of his ear; talks of nonsense of either his arrival or their situations occurring in the city; talks that would pique a person's curiosity of adventure or the itching chance of gossip. Their voices closely replicating the teasing whispers clustered in his own mind.
And there really seemed to be no escape. The noise hugged in every corner of thought and reality. Voices that filled every crevice, every bud, every tent, and every ear just as the day remained lively awake before it fell into night's slumber.
Too loud.
Hope gritted his teeth.
It was all too loud.
Hope didn't think he would experience this type of predicament in staying too long in a dense crowd.
Could he force them all to sleep?
It was only a fleeting idea.
An entertaining one to silence all the voices.
But Hope was beginning to hardly tell apart of which grouped voices belonged to his. And it wasn't like he should try and recognize each voice of his memory's.
He had already experienced the painful attempt before.
So, Hope started to fix his focus on the fire, watching the flames sway side to side as they began shrinking by the second before the old man decided to throw another stack of an unknown material that breathed the fire to life again.
"You don't have to hide your eyes," said the old man.
Hope lowered his hands, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked back at the old man.
So, the old man did hear him after all.
"Can't say it'll do me good."
Although, Hope didn't think sunglasses, or a blindfold would lessen suspicions either.
The old man also looked up and met Hope's gaze, his eyes slightly drooped and brows crinkled. "You say that as if it's a curse."
"..."
'You have no idea....' Hope thought but remained silent.
Although, he supposed a conversation would help narrow his focus and help lessen the confusion in his mind.
But before Hope could reply back to the old man, he continued:
"Your mother's?"
'Ah dammit...'
Hope regretted that jinxing thought.
He felt his body stiffen from the man's inquiry as the simple mention of 'mother' was enough to threaten for his memories to resurface.
But there was another face that also teased in the midst.
Hope's eyes returned to the fire.
"Father's."
"Father's hmm?" He attempted a smile. "Generous, wasn't he?"
"The only thing I suppose."
Hope casually tossed the now bloody cloth aside.
If he recalled correctly-
Of course, Hope did. But this time carefully.
-Hope remembered the priest garment he wore in his First Nightmare. How the other side of the black cape mimicked the same rich color as his eyes. Same as the sacred pool of tears. Cold. Yet warm. Like dusk hour.
"Richer than any clear sky I've ever seen." Hope muttered as his mind began to drift elsewhere.
But for the first time, his memories struggled to recollect images of his father even if the mention of his name tried to spark it so. Not that there was any benefit to it. Past was the past, wasn't it? He didn't necessarily want to relive those memories like he did back in the wasteland.
Father. Mother. Sister. Brother.
Damn brother.
'Ah the hell kind of journey is this?' Hope thought as he rubbed his face.
Not at all what he had planned for.
Not at all what he had signed up for.
It was supposed to be a simple shipment to Acheron then back. Just a shipment!
Jeevan went silent for a long moment. He seemed genuinely shocked by Hope's words.
"The sky?" Jeevan repeated under his breath. Then, surprisingly, he let out a chuckle as if Hope had made some sort of joke. "I never would have thought of such comparison."
"..."
'Huh?'
Hope blinked at the old man's response. "What would you compare it to then?"
Hope paused. "I haven't seen what I looked like in a long while." He shrugged.
The old main raised his eyebrows and pondered his words for a few moments before responding in a lighthearted tone.
"Well then I suggest you find a mirror and have a look at your own eyes. They're exactly the same as my wife's earrings when we wedded." He said with a chuckle.
To hide his frown, Hope ripped another piece of meat from the stick and swallowed, the bad combination of his blood and the savory meat mixed together.
"Hmm let's see." Jeevan poked at the fire. "You could have said the ocean. The sea. Perhaps even a jewel. Sapphire or lapis lazuli or tanzanite would fit quite perfectly." He said in a lighthearted tone, clearly amused by Hope's lack of imagination.
'What?'
Hope knew the waters part. But what were the others?
'The hell is...'
"...A lapis? A sapphire?"
Jeevan went silent again, as if debating Hope was speaking in truth or not.
But then a mix of understanding crossed his eyes as the wrinkles on his face pulled back into a smile. Another chuckle escaped from him as he gazed—almost nostalgically—at the fire, its flames shaping into heated dancing waves.
"They are precious minerals. Often used in making jewelry and many other adornments. My wife...a while back had her own set of earrings of that kind. I bought them...what was it...Tiffany's? Jared's? Ah it was a long time ago, but I bought them for our anniversary. Sapphires though. Not diamonds. My wife would have thanked me if I did. My wallet would have not haha...
"But!" The old man emphasized as he held three fingers up. "Lapis lazuli is prized for its deep, purplish-blue color. Sometimes even cobalt color. Tanzanite is much similar as well. While sapphire has a darker blue tone. Oh-" His expression seemed to have melted, a submission to an old comforting memory as he spoke with a longing in his voice. "Those stones may have gleamed like starlight in the right setting under the sun or moon. But none compared to hers..."
"..."
Hope blinked at his words.
There were a few words that Hope didn't understand but his mind wrapped around an idea of their definition that matched the context.
"Interesting..." Hope nonchalantly turned away and wiped off traces of grease from his lips. "Must not be important because I don't see them sold anywhere."
Now it was Jeevan's turn to blink in surprise.
Then thrilled laughter beat out of him. "Haha! Not exactly. Haaa. You probably don't see them anywhere because they are incredibly rare and valuable. Not that either of us could afford them anyway. But maybe not worth fighting for nowadays. Value is different for everyone. And the most luxurious thing around here is security."
The old man laughed a bit more before his joy started to seep away with the longing returning back to his eyes.
His face began to sag, and his eyes clouded over as if remembering another long distant past.
Well, he probably had seen more than Hope did. And maybe he hadn't mentioned his wife's name in a while.
He was of old age, an age that lived long enough before the Nightmare Spell to even reach further into the Dark Times.
"You seem to have a talent in telling stories." Hope commented as he laid back on a plastic blanket that wrinkled and hissed with each movement. His muscles relaxed as he stretched out.
He may not be able to sleep, but relaxing was the best thing.
Jeevan's mind seemed to be brought back to reality as he stared at Hope's calm manner.
"Oh...Just an old folk trait I'm afraid."
Hope paused as half his vision was blocked by the tarp overhead and the other half of the soaring high ceiling with the webbed wires and orb lights.
'Afraid huh.'
Hope closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and loosened his body as he faked sleep.
Hope supposed it didn't matter the number of battles one had to endure. Stupid fears. Great fears. Uncommon fears. Feigned fears. All of them seemed to chase at people's heels.
No damn wall or power of an Awakened could erase that.
Why the hell did he feel like he was being dragged again into something that regarded no part of him? If anything, he'd wanted to avoid it. And if it did involve him...then how-
'No. Nope. Forget that.'
Hope did not want to imagine it.
After he regains enough strength back in his aching bones from all that damn travelling, he would have to ask an audience to see Master Leda. And find out once and for all on how to leave this city.
Haven or not. Hope wasn't going to be confined here just because of some laughter or food.
Anyone would be a fool if they'd think sitting here was enough to satisfy their needs. Maybe it would have been for Hope, but not in a discord city with an open monster gate at its center. And he wasn't going to wait until something blew over for him to move again.
He still wanted to leave for Acheron—an intentional fortified place made by the government.
Where there was at least some order there and not rampant crime threatening every corner or down a block.
And then...
Well. He would have to decide later what he would do then.
Hello ye Faithful.
Um...
More characters will be introduced? *shrug* Let's see how that goes.
Click that vote for support though.
Could a lot change within a minute? Yes. Five minutes? Half an hour? A full hour? Most likely as well.
Hope thought he was a testament to that from when he completed his First Nightmare up to battling life and death to reach Sector Two.
But Hope didn't know how dependent he'd be with time.
Or how much of an enemy it could be.
'1564…1565….1566…'
At first, there was a somewhat of a peaceful balance before Hope had started counting the seconds in his head while he pretended to sleep.
All around, the voices of the people hummed in the air with pauses of laughter, the orb lights twinkled like tiny bottled suns above, and food was a hand reach away.
But Hope also noticed that any talk with the old man seemed to lead to personal inquiries.
Every time Hope had pretended to wake up to finish or eat more of his meals, the old man was ready to pry on Hope's identity.
Another question about his mother.
Another about his father.
Where did Hope come from? Was Hope brothers with the young boy? How did he manage to survive? Who taught him how to fight? Was there anything else he needed?
'The hell is this guy's problem…'
Do all adults interrogate their guests like that?
At that time, Hope also heard the Clara lady making a ruckus when the young boy had finally woken up. Almost relieved actually.
Her voice rang in the air that could not be missed by any means.
An annoying shrill.
"Oh you're awake! Here you must eat. Eat! I have some cooked meat just waiting for you. Huh? My name? Why it's Clara! And you're in Sector Two!"
'Im sure he's only tired. Not deaf.' Hope thought as he glanced over from the open tarp tent.
Her racing words flooded the poor boy as she started to hand him his cooked meal. Later on she also handed him a jacket as the air slowly chilled towards sunset hour. Although, the jacket she'd given him was evidently worn and stained with black patches; its length passing his waist and fingers from what Hope could see.
"Oh…uh t-thank you.."
The boy made a puzzled and worried expression with no choice but to accept the items placed in his arms.
"Oh don't you worry a thing, boy. Oh your name is Adam correct? I think I heard from- From… Oh well! I've heard your name is Adam! Haha just like the Bible isn't it? Lord's will be done. Fitting for this place really. Now let's not get cold. Tell me anything- Anything that's worrying you and I'll be sure to fix it. We are all quite handy and do our part here."
The lady was quick in laying out empty comforting words left and right as if the boy would cry at any given moment.
He gave a nervous smile. Then his pale cracked lips parted as he took a bite from the cooked meat and a blossom of relief and excitement bloomed on his face.
Of course, there was no mention of any 'brother' or a person accompanying the boy as the lady had promised.
Not that the boy seemed distraught either for his ghost companion.
But all in all…
'He's fine.' Hope had thought.
So, Hope had laid back again and pretended to sleep, prioritizing in doing nothing but relaxing, feeling new strength breathe into his sore muscles as time passed; his hand stung less and less, his stomach and thirst finally fully satisfied.
But then came the problem with his cursed Attribute…
Throughout the whole week's journey from the wastelands, Hope had been training his mind a decent amount to not be so sensitive to his own thoughts and to all the sights he'd come across.
Even as Hope relaxed—his body and senses being the most acute—Hope was able to keep the voices at bay; instead of a rush of voices, the voice sea would have whispered like a hushing mist as if tamed. Sometimes it blew too harshly in the corridors of his mind but always returned to its natural volume.
But Hope was a fool to even consider he tamed such a thing.
If there was such a possibility, he didn't have it yet.
As Hope continued to ignore interacting with the old man, as Hope relaxed and became more and more isolated with his own thoughts, the hundreds of waking voices that pressed around him started to slowly trigger more of his past. Like pulling a harmless thread, it unraveled but began letting loose thoughts fray out of his control.
'1588…1589…'
Images flitted behind Hope's eyelids like a glitched film, glimpses here and there from tangent conversations, but it was the selective voices that whispered hot in his ear.
"Have you heard the hunting party had to avoid the southeast tunnel because of some monsters? I can't for the life of me go back out there myself!"
"Neither can I. Sigh…We must avoid the outside…"
'Make sure to lock the doors and answer to no one, Hope.'
"Didn't you smile when that little girl gave you that flower? I swear that children are so innocent with their ways!"
'Here, Hope! I made this for you-'
"Oh I'm so grateful for the Awakened's help. We haven't had this much food in so long you know."
'Let the Awakened finish the job, soldier. They always do-'
'1596…1597…'
Pain was a perfect escape.
Descriptions of his surroundings worked as well.
But if he should retire any of those choices—since he was trying to recover from his soreness and trying to fake sleep—then counting was the last option to train his focus.
"Yes we've been taking in more newcomers as of late."
"Oh, not that many. But I pity them. Haven't you heard what happened to them-"
"We must not talk of it. It won't do us any good, you know."
'Hope! Why are you so quiet?'
!!!
'Not again-'
But there his sister was again—his sister's smile fleshing out in the blackness like a ghost revealing itself.
Even as he continued to count and forcefully imagine some random clock with hands ticking across dented lines, each failing second that passed her presence livened.
Soon, his body was beginning to be pulled into the memory as well.
The curse. The damn curse.
The Spell.
That Heart God-
'Hope…you can tell me anything you know tha-'
'No. Nope. Shut up.'
Hope gritted his teeth as he quickly sat himself up.
Someone else began speaking: "Haven't you also heard the Awakened-"
Clamp-
But Hope covered his ears.
Riiiiii-
He pressed so hard that he heard ringing in his head.
Oh the curse was even more cruel with other people present.
Well, it was always cruel.
Hope has just not tested all of its limits yet.
At that moment, the old man's arms reared back at Hope's sudden awakening from his pretend sleep.
His own face strangely flushed as he buried his hands behind his back.
The old man still sat next to Hope to keep a close watch on him as the Master had instructed. But it was starting to feel like a person on post rather than a caretaking eye.
"A-are you alright?"
'Not really.'
"I'm fine." Hope said as he rubbed his temples.
"You look awfully pale…Wait just a moment! I know someone who might have some medicine. Don't worry!"
Hope blinked. 'Wait-'
"No. Really. I'm fine- Stop-" Hope reached a hand out to gesture for the man to stop.
But in the man's blind rushed persistence, he got up and shuffled away, disappearing into the maze of crowded tents.
"…"
Hope sighed and rubbed his face. Were people usually this stubborn when they catch the slightest wrong?
Hope blinked.
'Wait…' Hope frowned at that thought.
He shook his head and took deep breaths. In and out.
Now that Hope's eyes were finally open—this time without hindrance from any distractions—he locked his gaze on the small fire as it popped and cackled in his ears, him watching as the flames rolled and danced—the focus slowly decimating the intrusive voices.
'1…2…3…4…5…6…7…"
The old man had left.
How fortunate and unfortunate.
Hope would have to leave soon because of it.
'…48…49…'
How long did it take for Hope's Flaw to be in effect?
From what he observed from the sneaky eyes earlier, it averaged about a minute or so before they gave up the effort feigning indifference, then repeated their newfound curiosity of him a moment later.
'Time to move then…'
Hope let out an annoyed sigh.
He then reluctantly grabbed his rifle and backpack before walking out of the tarp tent, passing the Clara lady and the Adam boy, passing the gossiping groups, passing sleeping figures, and finally reaching one of the great hall's side walls. A few heads turned and trailed after him, skeptical even, but he paid them no heed.
But the area against the wall had fewer people.
Instead, the wall was clustered with flowers of several unique types Hope of course had never seen before—some began drooping lower as if they sensed the coming night, others raising their heads of a false morning.
Hope paused.
Then turned around and caught sight of the old man talking to someone before collecting an item from them.
When he rushed back, his steps began to slow, and a puzzled expression grew on his face till he turned a corner and reached his tent.
"…"
Hope watched in silence as a fog of confusion filled the old man as he stood at his tent alone, staring between the product in his hand and the spot where Hope sat.
It wasn't a matter of a reaction of where his guest may have left. His head stayed still, and eyes became fixated on the item he held as if to receive some revelation from it. He did not panic at all as if he hadn't lost a whole person but was simply puzzled with his actions.
Before, he may have seen a path laid out in front him to fulfill a task, only for it to randomly cut off and lead to nowhere.
Leaving him to wonder why he even was acting the way he did in the first place.
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