"Before you go, Bran, can we... talk a little more? Not about work or the Naless Beast or anything like that. I want to know how you’ve been. I know I’ve not been a good father in the least, but... I want to... try. Will you give that chance?"
The man looked and sounded so vulnerable, so uneasy in his own weakness that not even Bran could continue to harden his heart towards him. Bran looked away at the open door. He could sll the street pollution and soone roasting walnuts sowhere out of view.
They were standing in the entrance area of the main building at ground level, but to one side because of all the reporters trying to set up their equipnt. None of them seed to have realised the head of the latest news story was standing just a few feet away.
"I’ve been fine," said Bran.
"Ah, that’s good... You... grew up in Pearl City I take it?" asked Arthur quietly.
"Yes."
"Was it hard?"
Was it hard? Bran nearly laughed at the question, nearly scread it sarcastically back and stord out, but instead a calm settled over him and he replied plainly.
"Yes," he said.
"Is it hard now?"
"...It’s not as hard as before."
"But it will never be easy."
Bran flinched at the truth in that statent. No. It would never be easy. He would never speak at a native level, there would always be things that people would say that he wouldn’t understand.
"No one’s life is easy," he said.
But other people at least get to start at the starting line. You didn’t. You were thrust into a situation you didn’t choose, one you did not have ti to prepare for, and were left to drown.
"That’s..."
Rember the looks on people’s faces (the scorn in their eyes) as they heard you try to speak their language, as they saw your face and decided who you were (not one of them).
Where do you co from, they ask, and what do you reply, Outsider?
"I..."
Nothing, because nothing will be able to say where you are from. You were born so place, yes, born of a certain intermingling of blood, yes, but that is not ’where you are from’.
What is ’fromness’? It is your birth, your source, your essence, your ’what you are when all is stripped bare’. A single word, the na of a place, cannot encompass where you are ’from’, Outsider.
How long have you been here, they ask, and what do you reply, what can you reply?
Over a decade, over half your life, but you know how they respond to that.
Why is your spoken language so bad? Why aren’t you fluent? Why is your writing so bad? Why didn’t your mother teach you?
You try to explain, explain that your family never had plans to stay longer than a year, but that it got dragged out, longer and longer, and then his business had collapsed and the money ran out, and still his spent and spent and spent, until there was nothing left but what was in the house.
What was in the house?
"...."
Yes, correct, exactly right. You, a bundle of cash, a pile of gold, just sitting there, ready for the taking, a monetary harvest just waiting waiting waiting.
Do you rember the sll of sawdust in that little box as you waited like an ignorant cow for the slaughter?
Bran turned and tried to walk to the entrance, but his legs were like lead and he struggled to move an inch.
Alone. All and utterly alone. Just another anonymous stranger in an anonymous crowd, except you’re sinking even in that. You can’t be anonymous, you’ll always stand out, always be the little ghost boy, the stranger, the Outsider. There are barriers all around you, blocking you, stopping you, making your journey like trudging through a swamp.
Bran crouched and tried to crawl his way forward.
But you could change all that. If you would only take this power, you could change this place.
"I... don’t... have that right. Many... people live... in this city. They should get... to choose their... life themselves."
Standing up for them now? The ones you bullied you, the ones who wrote you off, the ones who ignored you?
"It’s... not their fault. They... have their own... pain."
Yes, they have their difficult past, scars and trauma at the hands of forr colonial masters, but at least they have each other.
What about you? You have no one, you realise that, don’t you? You have a handful of acquaintances, but what are they really? How many would care if you didn’t co ho one day? They would regret the loss of a tool, a resource, but not much else.
"I... have Misha."
Yes, yes you do. He’s your world now, isn’t he? Lovely. Precious, oh, so precious.
So how could you inflict all this on him?
Bran’s arms shook and he fought hard to not collapse to the ground.
You know what it is like to have to start afresh in this city, the harshness, the coldness, the judgent. Do you really want him to have to live through all that too?
You might be strong (yes, you are strong), but is he? I do not doubt he has strength, but can you really sit by and let him suffer, not when you could have done sothing about it?
You can change things, you know. You can make things right, you can reshape the world as you see fit, make the place just a little bit less shit.
So, won’t you reconsider? Just take a mont, imagine, think.
You can do so much good... if you would just break the seal on the Naless Beast.
Bran fell to the ground and the light in the entrance went black.
--
I automatically put a hand to my chest as the sharpest pain I’d ever felt stabbed through . It ripped and boiled but then, as quickly as it had co, it disappeared leaving feeling disorientated.
"You an, all those myths about xian and dragons are real?"
"Huh?" I dropped my hand and turned to address Coral and lody. "Oh, for myths I’m not sure, but I can tell you that right now, magic and all that is very real. And dragons. Or loong really," I replied.
They looked at one another with lost expressions on their faces.
We were waiting by the pier for the ferry man to co pick us up and take us to that strange little island out in the middle of nowhere. Athyst had said she would catch up with us later in the Under City after checking in with her friend (the little girl and her grandfather from way back when), so it was just , Coral and lody and a whole host of tourists waiting for the boat.
"Are you a... loong?" asked Coral.
I’d found and tied the old charm to my tail again but they’d already seen it. "Yeah," I admitted. "It surprised too."
"You an, you didn’t know?"
"Nope."
"That’s crazy."
I had to agree.
"But I guess it’s not that surprising," Coral went on.
"How so?" I asked.
"Well... magic is so powerful, it makes sense that so people would try to hoard it, right?"
If this had been before the presentation, and Coral and lody had found out earlier about all this, then I would have imdiately explain that it wasn’t out of greed or power that this information was kept from the public, but rather out of a fear that the whole thing would disappear. But now the whole world knew - or at least, most of the world, judging from the view count on all the reposted videos of the presentation on all kinds of video platforms online - and magic was still working and I still existed.
The ferry ca and everyone filed on. Like the first ti, there seed to be too many people on the little boat but that didn’t seem to stop anyone and we were stood skating across the water.
When we reached the island, I took the two girls down that side route you’d taken all that ti ago. The seasons had changed since then it seed and the green vegetation had given way to brown leaves and baren branches and it gave the place a kind of sad, sober feel.
"I saw soone sign up for the alpha test on the boat," said lody as we dropped lower and lower on the invisible lift. It had taken quite a bit of encouragent to get the two to take a step of faith.
"Alpha test? For The Unity’s... stuff?" I asked.
"Yeah. Coral and I have already joined the mailing list."
I nodded but didn’t reply. I rembered Coral’s look and her tone of voice as she’d ask about what the price would be for this new technology and I couldn’t help thinking that this sudden optimism from the world at this new found magic wasn’t quite so rosy. Depending on how much it cost, instead of giving magic to the masses, would this just end up further dividing the ’haves’ and the ’have nots’?
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