"Three blocks south... Three blocks south..." Sirius mumbles to himself. He rolls the seven purple gems around in his palm.
-This place is like a maze. I hope I'm going south...
No, he does not know his cardinal directions.
He rests his throbbing arm at his side. The mangled limb is like a beacon, begging for people to stare. Shoving the gems in his pocket, Sirius tries to ignore their blatant staring, directing his gaze to the ground.
Glancing up, a mother covers her daughter's eyes.
-You could at least try to be subtle... Or offer help. That'd be nice too.
...
His thoughts cycle back to her.
Aureole.
She resides at the forefront of his mind. Refusing to vacate.
-"Are you okay?"... "We match."... "Please, let me thank you! You got me my requisite back... I don't think I can thank you enough."... "Thank you... Thank you so much..."
...
She almost makes him forget how badly it hurts.
A shot of pain spreads across his arm. He attempts to hold the limb, but his grip instantly makes it worse. His veins bulge as he bottles in a scream.
Crumbling to his knees, he vents heavy breaths. It burns so badly, he finds himself sweating.
He peers up at everyone passing by. Their expressions wear on him further. They look so... disgusted by him. As if he's some kind of insect in need of swatting.
"Witch Spawn..."
"Gross."
"Why does it look like that?"
"Don't look at it."
"Filthy Witch Spawn..."
...
...
-Witch Spawn, huh... Why... Why won't you just help me?
...
He starts wishing he had followed that girl. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so alone.
...Yet another regret added to the list.
...
Pulling himself up, Sirius continues hauling himself down the street.
-I've walked at least five blocks now... Where is this place?
Three main concerns cross his mind.
One: He passed the clinic without realizing it.
Two: He is not heading south.
Three: She was lying.
...
He prays it's not the third.
...
The medieval style buildings and atmosphere drift away the further along he goes.
Distant voices slowly shrink until they cannot be heard, giving him a small sense of relief.
The gray structures trickle out as the city bleeds into a field of green. An open metal gate with a white symbol of a tree stands before him. It appears to be a park.
A short gray wall stretches across the perimeter of a vast, grassy field. Gentle hills and small trees are scattered about, shaping a relaxing image. Rustic benches are dotted throughout, with very few people to accompany them. It's a peaceful little area, tame when compared to the market.
It's a tranquil sight. Only the subtle sounds of nature and bugs present. While the buildings of the city loom on the horizon, they all feel so distant. Unsurprisingly, there is no clinic in sight...
His beating arm carries on its cry for help. With such insatiable discomfort, he can't help but wonder...
-What was that thing? She called it a wailian, but... Why did it attack her? What use would it have for a bracelet?
A grotesque horror masquerading as a bat... Something like that shouldn't exist. The inhabitants of this strange land may be different from humans, but at least they are... domestic.
The sight of that monster alone should have driven Sirius to haul himself away. To abandon the girl and save himself. Logically, it would have been the best option. Morally, not so much, but at least it wouldn't be risking two lives. So...
-Why did I do that?
For as long as he remembers, Sirius has never once done something so bold.
Don't stand out. Don't be different. Stay in line and act as you should.
Be perfect.
This is how he's always lived.
Never doing what he wants. Never deciding on anything. Doing as he's told. Doing what he must to meet others' expectations.
Why did you do something so stupid? So sporadic? Were you trying to be a hero? That isn't who you are... This isn't who you should be...
...
-Who do I think I am?
...
Lumbering through the park, he spots a familiar figure.
The old man.
-He's the guy who gave me the watch...
Deviating from his false path, he pushes aside the need for a clinic. Maybe he can get some answers...
The senior faces off in the opposite direction, stalking something unseen.
He's settled in the shade of a large, twisting tree. Its oval leaves are a mix of green and white. Taking a closer look at the grass, white blades also stand along with the green. The vegetation here, while subtle, is checkered.
Sirius stealthily sneaks up on the elder.
"Man, how are you wearing that coat? I'm dying out here..."
He stops at the man's side, his jest grabbing his attention.
Glancing down at his arm, the elder speaks.
"I leave you alone for five seconds, and you're already getting into fights? I didn't take you for a violent type."
-That's all you have to say??
"Well, everyone's full of surprises."
"May I ask what transpired? I imagine you've experienced quite the culture shock."
"Ha... You could say that. As for the arm, a wailian or whatever it's called attacked me."
"A wailian? That's rare..." The old man ponders a moment. "Also troublesome..."
His gaze returns to the distance.
"...What are you looking at? Just looks like a whole lot of grass."
It indeed does look like a lot of grass. It sort of resembles an old computer background.
"I'm just waiting..."
They share a brief moment of silence.
"Oh-" Sirius grabs the golden watch from his pocket. "I know you were trying to be all mysterious and everything, but could you tell me what this is counting down to? I-"
The man places a finger in front of Sirius' lips.
"Shh... Watch."
Sirius aligns his vision with the old man's... It's just grass. Nothing and no one in sight.
...
-Is this guy sleeping while standing up?
"I don't-"
Suddenly, on the side of a low hill, a small patch of grass hitches.
The blades sway as if they were blown by the wind. But there is no breeze.
Then again, the grass shifts and the ground jerks upward.
A small bulge is forming on the side of the hill. The mound enlarges rhythmically, only ever stopping for a second or two. It's like the ground is being dented from the inside out. The lump of soil grows taller and wider, small chunks of compacted dirt breaking off.
-Something is coming out of the ground.
A faint grunting can be heard. The sound is synced with each rise of dirt, escalating, and getting louder with each tremor.
Then, with a final propulsion, the jagged spikes of soil cave in on each other.
-
With a tiny click, a withered hand starts the countdown.
22926510 seconds remain.
-