Keldon wiped the snot from his nose with the back of his hand. His cheeks were rosy and flushed as he hid behind a trash can in the corner of an alley. He clutched Yan’s scarf to his breast, absorbing the lingering feelings of kind warmth. At one point, Keldon swore he could even sense Luther’s scent in the fabric. Keldon missed the illusion already. At least, he thought it was an illusion.

  He looked the scarf over. The glow that had been there was faded, but when it had glowed in the streets, no one seemed to notice so perhaps only he could see the glow. Like how he was the only one to see the Luther Phantom. His heart twinged.

  “Not exactly the city debut I wanted,” thought Keldon.

  He’d sat in the streets crying for a few minutes before a kind lady pulled him back to reality, asking him if he was alright. Snapping to his senses, he’d apologized and reassured her he was alright and hurried into the alleyway.

  Keldon looked up to the sun where it dipped behind a sheet of white clouds. There wasn’t enough time to mull over his embarrassment. The sun was already starting to come down and would begin to set soon. He had to get moving.

  Keldon stood up, creeping back out of the alleyway. No one seemed to pay him any attention other than a cursory glance as he breathed a sigh of relief. Either the people who had seen him a few minutes ago had all shuffled away, or simply, they just didn’t care anymore. He’d take it either way.

  He walked out onto the streets, following the directions of the constable who he’d met earlier, and started his long journey across the city.

#

  “Excuse me, you think you could help me with directions?” asked Keldon.

  “In a rush. Sorry Kid,” said a scantily-clad man with a tie. He dashed down the street, his feet bouncing off the pavement in a sprint as people cleared the way.

  “No problem…” said Keldon, looking around at the crowd to gauge their reaction. Most only spared him a cursory glance or a raise of the eyebrow as he split the sea of civilians.

  “Nothing surprises these people huh?” thought Keldon.

  He awkwardly held his map out, looking around for the ‘Rat’s Tail’ tavern sign that he was supposed to make a left at.

  “Pardon me, but I heard you needed directions?” came a voice from behind him.

  Keldon turned around.

  A boy that seemed just slightly older than he was looked down on Keldon with a gentle smile. He stood about a foot taller than Keldon, and his bright blond hair was tucked underneath the hood of an unassuming grey cloak that masked his bronze skin. But for such a plain cloak, he was sure well-groomed.

  “Oh yeah. Well, I’m trying to get to this address,” said Keldon, showing the stranger the directions. “I’m supposed to make a left turn at the ‘Rat’s Tail’ but I think made a wrong turn.”

  “Hm…” said the stranger, stroking his chin. “Oh! That manor is in the cloud sector. I’m headed in that direction myself. I can lead you partway there if you’d like.”

  Keldon’s face broke into a smile.

  “That would be great! I’d really appreciate that!” said Keldon.

  “I don’t doubt it. What’s your name?” asked the stranger.

  “Keldon. And yours?”

  The stranger broke out into a laugh, but then caught himself by surprise as he lowered his head, pulling the cloak over his face as his eyes shifted around. The stranger looked down at Keldon with the look of expectation in his eyes.

  He didn’t know how to react, so he just raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Oh, you were being serious,” said the stranger. “Well then, a pleasure, Keldon. Howard’s the name.”

  “Right…nice to meet you Howard,” said Keldon.

  Howard held his hand out for a handshake as Keldon gripped his palms into his own.

  “Just as many weirdos in Kharburn huh,” thought Keldon.

  “Let’s get a move on then. Progress bemoans stillness after all.” said the stranger.

  Howard turned his back to him, striding down the streets with purpose in his step. But as Keldon trailed behind him, he caught glimpses of Howard’s pristine white shoes beneath his unassuming grey cloak, only further raising questions. And Keldon’s suspicions.

  The two of them walked in mostly silence, only stopping to talk about small things like the weather or how crowded the city streets were. That was until they came across a large brazier in the center of a bush garden. The bowl was made of copper and was sandwiched between a bakery and an insurance broker that looked more aged than most of the shops that they had passed until this point. But rather than keep his steady gaze and move on, Howard stopped and sighed.

  Surprisingly enough, Howard wasn’t the only one either. All around him, people would occasionally stop and let their gaze rest for a moment on the brazier before moving on with their day. An odd occurrence for these city folks, Keldon assumed.

  “Did something happen?” asked Keldon.

  Howard looked at Keldon like something finally clicked in his head.

  “You’re not from Kharburn, are you?” said Howard, posing the question more like a statement.

  “That easy to tell?”

  Howard nodded.

  “This was supposed to be the resting place of the eternal flame, yet, just a few short weeks ago, it went out.”

  “Guess eternity isn’t very long then,”

  Howard frowned at him.

  “Sorry. Touchy subject?” asked Keldon.

  “For some, yes. The eternal flame burned long before the city of Kharburn had even been a port town. It held high prestige as cultural significance to both Old-blood and New-blood alike. Our city just lost a precious cultural heritage, so I’d suggest you lay off the jests for now,”

  “Got it. Sorry again, didn’t mean to offend,” said Keldon.

  Howard’s face lightened up upon hearing Keldon’s apology.

  “It’s alright, as long as you understand. Let’s keep moving,” said Howard.

  However, as the two of them moved past the brazier, the more crowded it became. The streets were backed up with carts that had been stuttered to a halt. Horse whines and Tortulga huffs filled the air as a well-dressed crowd pushed forward along the side lines.

  A torn sheet of paper stamped with a footprint blew in the breeze, slapping Keldon in the face and blinding him as he bumped shoulders with bald-headed man. He peeled the wet paper off his face, making an apologetic face as he apologized profusely to the bald man, who in turn, paid him no mind.

  Keldon glimpsed down at the sheet of paper he had peeled off his face. He stared into the empty eyes of a missing boy’s sketch; the poster written in bright blood-red letters. Empathy pains spiked in Keldon’s chest.

  But by the time Keldon looked up, the bald man had walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Keldon leaned the poster gingerly against a storefront nearby as he squeezed through the horde of people to catch up to Howard. By now, the sun had started to set into the evening sky as the light glow of pink lit up the horizon.

  “Is the Rat’s Tail usually this busy?” asked Keldon, scampering up behind Howard.

  “We’re not going past the Rat’s Tail. We’re taking a shortcut using platform Megunn instead. Though, it’s oddly busy. From what I’ve heard, platform Sorin went down the other night so that could be it,” said Howard, squeezing past the crowd.

  “Oh, platform Sorin! I read from a book that it was still in development.”

  “Platform Sorin has been finished for nearly a decade at this point, what in the Divine have you been reading?” asked Howard.

  He gave Howard a sheepish smile.

  “I thought that was the most recent edition…” thought Keldon.

  Howard’s large physical stature moved forward like an unstoppable force, leading the charge as he pushed passed the ocean of well-dressed civilians who murmured in discontent. Keldon tried apologizing to as many as he could along the way, absorbing the anger that had initially been directed at Howard. But if Howard seemed bothered, he certainly didn’t show it.

  Eventually, he and Howard- well, Howard mostly- had shoved their way to the front of an angry crowd who stirred in frustration. At the front of the crowd was a gate manned by a disgruntled worker in a sweat-soaked uniform. He punched tickets as he ushered people in one by one to a platform on the other side. But despite the underwhelming worker, what Keldon saw was a mind-numbing contraption.

  His jaw went slack as Keldon gazed upon the mechanical magnificence of Kharburn’s technology. A white mass of land was laid overtop a steel nest of iron beams, two city blocks in diameter. It was equipped with safety rails and groaned with energy and puffs of steam.

  However, as he got a closer look, his eyes widened as Keldon realized the platform wasn’t simply lain overtop the nest of steel beams. It hovered in midair. His brain throbbed just trying to wrap his head around the amount of mana and engineering know-how needed to even come up with a prototype, much less put it to practical use.

  “Good Gods…” murmured Keldon.

  He heard a snicker from behind him, as Keldon dropped his head in embarrassment. He’d have to learn not to be amazed by every technological marvel he came across if he wanted to blend in.

  “Ticketmaster!” yelled Howard, pulling Keldon beside him and waving down the worker. Keldon shrunk his shoulders feeling the glare of the crowd pierce his backside.

  “We don’t do refunds here. Go to the station three blocks south,” said the Ticketmaster in an automated voice. The Ticketmaster met Howard’s gaze with an unamused frown but met his gaze. For a second, it was as if once-clogged gears had turned again in his head.

  The Ticketmaster’s expression lit up.

  “Divine smite me! I’m terribly sorry Mister King, I didn’t recognize you at first,” said the Ticketmaster.

  Upon hearing the name King, the crowd grew silent, and all eyes turned to Howard’s back. Murmurs bubbled on the edge of everyone’s lips as they leaned in, watching.

  Howard pulled back his hood, revealing his bright blonde hair. The crowd burst into excitement, pushing forward but not daring to surround Howard. Keldon shot Howard a suspicious look as Howard handed the Ticketmaster a silvery card.

  “Forgive me for cutting in line, but I’m escorting this fellow here who’s new to the city to our cloud sector. He’d lost his way and needed to get there quickly,” said Howard. He spoke loud enough so that the crowd behind him could hear.

  An array of responses erupted from the crowd.

  “Lucky bastard, personally escorted from Red King himself!” said a teenage boy.

  “Curses, if only I’d gotten lost too,” said a middle-aged woman.

  “How could someone so handsome be so kind as well!” cried a woman in her twenties.

  Howard turned around, flashing a kindly smile at the crowd, and waved. They broke into cheers and excitement. Keldon kept his eyes forward, his hands growing clammy as the pressure of countless gazes weighed his back.

  “Of course! My boss would kill me if he found out I held back a guest of Mr. King himself. Come right in! Ramp Seven, on your right.” said the Ticketmaster, straightening his uniform and opening the gate.

  Howard strode through with confidence, thanking the Ticketmaster as Keldon trailed behind him.

  “Wait!!” cried the Ticketmaster.

  Keldon froze. Did he do something wrong?

  The Ticketmaster ran up to Howard, ignoring Keldon.

  “I know it’s unprofessional of me, b-but I’ve been a huge fan since you broke Dark Star’s record in the Wild Runs. If it wouldn’t displease you, could I have an autograph?” asked the Ticketmaster.

  Howard smiled as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “How could I say no,” said Howard. He pulled a black marker from his cloak, signing a slip of paper and handing it to the Ticketmaster. Tears welled up in the Ticketmaster’s eyes as he clutched the paper close to his chest.

  “Divine bless you, sir. Have a wonderful trip,” said the Ticketmaster, bowing his head so low, his forehead nearly hit the concrete.

  Keldon looked up at Howard’s face. His expression was kind and friendly. Too friendly in fact. Something clicked in Keldon’s head.

  “You… you used me,” said Keldon.