'I hate posers.'
After finally exchanging names, the two looked at each other for another few seconds, before Eli broke contact, turning back to the row of tents laid ahead.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
He stepped slowly, not in a rush to have his back departing from Bast's vision immediately -- that thin overcoat swaying softly. With each departing step, Bast couldn't help but look down to his feet. He wasn't admiring them. No. His eyes squinted faintly before faintly glancing at his right arm.
'How did you sneak up on me...?'
Crunch... Crunch...
The steps grew further and further, until Eli had roamed between a few set of tents and other items buried into the ground. He vanished from sight seconds later, a few hundreds of metres away.
Even as he disappeared, those amber eyes zoned in where he'd last stepped, as a frown pressed on his face. 'I can't tell if either of them are lying...' Bast lingered thoughtfully. 'Regardless,' He raised his foot slightly, before kicking the ground. '...I have to be careful.'
Woooh!
The draft of wind pushed in, swaying his hair.
'Paleck. Eli. And more them...?' a familiar pang rose in his stomach, as the faint smell of char wafted in the air.
It wasn't hunger -- although he was hungry.
It was unease.
'The Causeway. If Paleck, or either of them, don't tell me where it is... I'll take my chances navigating myself.'
Woooh!
A slight buzz of warmth rested on his palm. He raised his left hand from his pocket, as he was busy twirling the Coin through his fingers. This whole time moving he'd kept the Coin in his hand as some sort of safety mechanism -- prepared to flip at a moments notice.
'I'm getting overconfident in this thing,' he thought, staring at its chipped bronze complexion. He looked up for a moment, scanning his surroundings. 'It got me in this mess.'
A faint grin rose on his lips, as some sand shimmered off of his boot. 'Still... I can't complain about the food it came with.'
He tucked the Coin away swiftly, not wanting anyone to see him admiring it for too long. After all, the eye is the key to the soul, and if anyone caught him staring at the Coin so intently, it would clearly show just how much he valued it.
Woooh!
'I'm anymore trusting... and I'll be dead before my fucking third day out here.'
[---Four Years Ago---]
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The soft percussion of rainwater dripping down onto metal pipes, rang thinly in the air, as the sounds of distant chatter held firm.
A kid sat on sleek, weathered-down concrete, hands wrapping his knees like a protective shield. A dark green hoodie, a pair of black black pants. They both had holes dressed across them.
It was Bast.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
Footsteps?
The sound flowed in just outside the alley, as the rain continued to pour.
The kid didn't look up. Looking up was how you got seen.
"Hey," a voice said. Not loud. Not sharp.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It was just enough to reach him over the rain.
Bast's fingers tightened around his knees.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The steps got closer.
Bast's head lifted slightly -- his amber eyes glossing through the rain.
"You wanna earn some money?"
A twitch ran down his spine. He looked up, now fully attentive.
Slick-back hair, dark tinted glasses, fattened-up cheeks, a toothy grin. There wasn't another way to describe him. He stank.
"Cat got your tongue? What you say lil guy."
Bast didn't reply immediately. Instead the shake of the man's wrist drew his attention. A watch. Clean. Gold...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The man chuckled softly, noticing his look. "You like this?"
Tap.
He took a slight step closer, now towering above. Bast didn't move.
"I'll give you 4 shards..."
Those pair of amber eyes widened.
"Just need an hour of your time. What'd ya say?"
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The rain slid down Bast's cheek. He didn't look away. Instead, a question rose across his childlike features. He didn't voice it out loud... but the man replied all the same.
"Oh. Don't worry," he shook his hand in the air, downplaying the job physically. "All ya gotta do is deliver something for me."
The man's hand reached out after finishing his offer, holding it in the air for a handshake it seemed.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Up. Down. Up. Down. The kid looked at his face--that slick grin, that healthy complexion--before turning to his hand. Clean. Moisturised even. He must've been rich. The boy's mouth opened unsteadily.
"W-where's the shards..." A voice that was soft, and as youthful as his appearance, but was also tired, rugged even.
"You'll get it after."
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The rain continued to clatter. The man continued to stare down at the kid -- that grin eternal.
Bast didn't move. The rain slid down his darkened sleeve.
The hand moved closer. It was hovering right there. Bast looked up one last time. He was trying to look at his eyes, but those tinted glasses meant he couldn't.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
He reached for his hand.