"Michael, Michael, wake up, Michael."
"Michael, Michael, wake up, Michael."
"What is it? Let sleep more," Michael groaned.
"How much more do you want to sleep? Wake up and wear this cloak and mask so we don't garner too much attention. I'm standing outside—co out fast, we don't have much ti, okay?" Kael insisted.
"Fine, fine, wait five minutes."
{Five minutes later...}
"I'm ready. But first, tell this: when you said you'd co back in ten minutes, you never did, I got tired of waiting and fell asleep. Where the Fucking hell were you?" Michael asked.
"Forget it. I had to find this cloak and mask and got stuck with so work. Now stop talking and start walking," Kael replied.
"Fine, whatever," Michael said.
I stumbled a little as I followed Kael out of the building, trying to keep up with his long, effortless strides. He looked completely unfazed, as if the entire "let's fight the beast wave, lose consciousness, and end up in a new city" ordeal was just another Tuesday for him.
For ? Not so much.
My muscles still ached from the battle, and although I had completely healed a long ti ago, my body had apparently decided it wasn't going to let forget the experience anyti soon. Every step felt like a reminder that, yes, I was mortal, and no, I hadn't wished for pain immunity yet.
The streets were a different beast altogether. I could imdiately tell sothing was off. The mont we stepped out, every single person within a hundred-foot radius stopped whatever they were doing and turned to stare at us.
I tugged the hood of my cloak lower, hoping to blend in. It didn't help.
Kael's crimson eyes were like beacons in a sea of brown, and my blue eyes—yeah, they weren't exactly inconspicuous either. The problem with coloured eyes was that they had this habit of glowing, and apparently, people here were trained to notice. Hard to be subtle when your eyeballs were basically neon signs.
"Uh, Kael," I whispered, leaning in closer, "is it just , or are people staring a bit too hard?"
"They're supposed to stare," Kael replied smoothly, his tone betraying no emotion.
"Well, great. Just what I wanted—to be the center of attention. Should we sign autographs too?"
Kael didn't laugh. I wasn't surprised. "You're a kind of royalty now, Michael. Expect it."
"Right," I muttered, glancing nervously at a nearby vendor who was eyeing like I might spontaneously combust. "But like, do they have to stare so much? It's starting to feel like a parade. Should I wave? What's the protocol here?"
Kael ignored my sarcasm and kept walking, his pace steady as ever. anwhile, I tried my best to keep my head down while simultaneously scanning the crowd. The people weren't just looking at us with awe—there was sothing more. Respect, sure, but also fear, and maybe... hope?
One shopkeeper almost knocked over a fruit stand trying to get a better look at us. A pair of children peeked out from behind their mother's apron, eyes wide and mouths hanging open like they'd just seen a dragon. The mother quickly pulled them back, bowing slightly as we passed. I felt a twinge of awkwardness and tried to flash a friendly smile. The kids' eyes went even wider. One of them waved shyly, and I instinctively waved back.
Big mistake.
The mother imdiately yanked her kid's hand down and dragged them away, muttering sothing under her breath that sounded like, Don't look them in the eyes. Don't even think about it.
It's good that she didn't overreact.
I blinked, utterly confused. "Did I just traumatize that kid by waving?"
"Unlikely," Kael replied without even looking back. "But our presence does intimidate them. You forget—you're a royalty or soone of importance for them. Most of these people have never seen anyone with coloured eyes, let alone interacted with one."
"That's comforting," I muttered. "I've always wanted to make people uncomfortable just by existing."
Kael's silence was his way of telling to get used to it. But I couldn't help but feel the pressure. These people weren't just curious—they expected sothing from us. It was like we were walking symbols of hope or power, and every move we made was under scrutiny.
As we walked further into the market square, the crowd only grew. I could feel eyes drilling into the back of my head, and I was pretty sure one girl almost fainted when Kael glanced in her direction. I was starting to wonder if this whole royalty thing was worth it. Back on Earth, no one cared if I walked down the street. Now, I couldn't even scratch my nose without drawing attention.
After so walking, we finally ca to a stable and saw a group of older n haggling over the price of a carriage. Their heated argunt ca to an abrupt halt the mont they saw us. It was almost comical how fast their postures changed—one mont, they were red-faced and shouting, the next, they were practically bowing, eyes averted, voices dropping to respectful murmurs.
Kael didn't slow down, but I could feel his presence shift slightly as he approached them. "We need a carriage."
It wasn't a question, but the way he said it—calm and with an underlying authority—made it clear that arguing wasn't an option. One of the n, who looked like he was in charge, cleared his throat nervously. "O-of course, Your Highness. Right away."
He bowed so low I thought he might fall over. The others followed suit, dipping their heads as though they were in the presence of gods. I, on the other hand, stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to act in a situation like this.
"Uh, thanks," I mumbled, trying not to sound like an imposter. Am I supposed to say 'thanks'? Is that even royal enough?
The man didn't even seem to register my words. He was too busy hurrying off to fetch the best carriage they had. In the anti, Kael stood there, unfazed as ever, while I shuffled nervously, trying not to look too out of place. Which, judging by the wide-eyed stares we were still getting, wasn't really working.
"Does this happen every ti you ask for sothing?" I asked quietly, watching as the man practically sprinted back with a pristine-looking carriage.
"Yes," Kael answered simply.
I raised an eyebrow. "And you don't find it the least bit weird? I an, they're acting like we're about to execute them or sothing."
Kael's eyes flicked to briefly, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Power commands respect. You'll get used to it."
"I'm not sure I want to get used to it," I muttered. "It's like they think we're going to smite them if they look at us wrong."
"They might think that, yes," Kael replied, stepping into the carriage without missing a beat. "That's why they won't look at you wrong."
I paused, one foot in the carriage, and stared at him. "...Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?"
Kael remained silent, but I could have sworn I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
I settled into the seat across from him, still processing everything that had happened. Outside, the n bowed again as we rolled past, and I couldn't help but glance out the window. People were still watching us, whispering amongst themselves as we passed. There was that sa mix of reverence and fear, and I wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it.
"So," I said after a mont, leaning back against the plush seat, "how long until we're out of the city?"
"Not long," Kael replied, his eyes focused ahead. "We'll be at the sect's front gate within two days."
I let out a small sigh of relief. "Good. Because I don't know how much longer I can deal with people acting like I'm going to kill them at any second."
Kael gave a look that I couldn't quite read. "You may have to learn how to deal with it. Royalty doesn't have the luxury of blending in."
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, adjusting my cloak. "I get it. But still—this whole 'everyone stares at us all the ti' thing? Not a fan."
Kael didn't respond. Typical.
I looked out the carriage's window again, watching as the city slowly receded into the distance. As much as I wanted to focus on the journey ahead, I couldn't shake the feeling that sothing was waiting for us at the sect. Sothing that would make all this attention feel like a warm-up.
But hey, at least I still had my sense of humor. That was sothing, right,? Right??
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