Outskirt.

  A carriage of the old Courier travelled on its usual course. A day after he left the Kid at Richieton.

  Leaving him behind, the old man assumed, wasn’t an exact description perhaps. Before he could bring him to the uptown section of Richieton, where he believed the Kid would be safe, the young boy had already disappeared from his seat.

  The courier then spent fifteen minutes, searching for the Kid’s whereabouts, only to be left with disappointment and nervousness.

  Nevertheless, he wished for the best of the Kid’s journey, no matter what it was. He glanced over his back, the immaculate and spotless Hummingbird’s cage hung still. Not just that, he felt like his whole cart had been upgraded in a way.

  “Such a good kid.” He muttered with a cheerful expression.

  Hardly could he meet another youth of such kindness yet peculiarity.

  “I’ll get you close to some trees, and I’ll release you there, okay?” He chuckled at the clueless bird, as if it could understand him somehow.

  To his surprise, instantly, a figure stepped forth in his way.

  The horse and wheels came to a halt, as the Courier quickly tightened his grip on the leash. Taken aback by the sudden intrusion, he shouted.

  “Oh! Be careful, watch your steps!”

  An uninvited guest.

  --

  Richieton.

  “I hope he didn’t mind it.”

  The Gardener, flustered, who had just dashed away from her home, was wandering around the slum without a specific direction. A breakaway from her daily routine. If it had been the days before, she would have been spending time taking care of her grandma.

  Yet, she found herself walking through the alleyways, aimlessly looking for something that could distract her from the whirlwind of thoughts. An unfamiliar district, though she had travelled here before, but on a daily basis not.

  “Hey! What are you doing out here?”

  A voice caught the Gardener’s ears. Across the street, stood the Director, the woman who ran the garden she was working at. With crossed arms, the Director greeted with a nod.

  “I thought now’s not your shift. What are you doing out here?”

  “Ah, yes! It’s a pleasure meeting you, Miss Director.” The Gardener bowed her head, reclaiming her courtesy with a panicking note.

  The Director, a person of respect within the slum. She was one of the only people to run a legitimate business within the abandoned homes for the filthy souls.

  “What’s wrong? You seem… flustered.”

  “I, well… I’m just spending my time out here! It’s a breath of fresh air!”

  “Isn’t this the opposite direction from-”

  “Ah! That cloud looks amazing, right?” She yelled, an attempt to divert their attention away with a finger to the sky. The Director, instead glared at her with a suspicious look.

  Noticing the doubt, she quickly changed the topic.

  “Ah, erm, may I ask, what are you doing here, Director?”

  “Me? I’m heading to the uptown.”

  “Uptown?!”

  “Yeah. I am delivering some flora to one of our customers.” She answered, lifting the basket in her hand. “We sell things over there, too.”

  “I see… I just, I didn’t know-”

  “Don’t worry. You only need to take care of our facility, the baby flowers. You don’t need to overwork yourself with all of these businesses.”

  “I mean, I just want to…”

  “Come on. You still have everyone around here, and your grandma to take care of, right? These aren’t for you.”

  Despite the cover, the Gardener couldn’t fully hide away her mixed feelings. Whether it was disappointment, nervousness, or yearning, or all of them, she was unsure of. Despite the futile attempt, the other woman didn’t seem to notice the obvious facade of the young maiden. Such was relieving, yet somewhat saddening.

  With tightening fingers around the fabric of her dress, the Gardener could only mutter.

  “Yes. I understand. Thank you for your understanding.”

  Pride escaped the Director’s lips with a huff.

  “See? Come on, you shouldn’t be out here at this time of day. You should head back, and-”

  Unbeknownst to them both, a presence had silently stepped foot beside the Gardener. Before the end of the Director’s proud words, the Gardener in a blink of an eye, had disappeared right under her nose. Surprised, and slightly frightened, the Director whipped her head around, looking for the trace of the girl before her.

  Yet she found none. Not a sound, not a footstep.

  “I guess… she went home. My hearing got a bit worse, huh?”

  She harbored not a negative assumption towards the Gardener. The Director never thought of the young girl as someone who would abruptly leave without a word, and such still remained. She blamed herself for not paying attention.

  --

  “Eh?”

  Blinking once and twice, the Gardener saw herself in the old street of home. Holding her wrist, was no other than the Kid.

  The grip was tight, yet it didn’t hurt.

  “How am I back in here…? Where- where’s the Director?!” Transitioning from confusion to mild panic, the girl yelped while her eyes flew around the scenery.

  “I’m sorry if I…”

  “No, that’s not the point! How did you bring me back here?!” She shook his shoulder, demanding for an answer.

  “Oh, well, to be honest, I think- I am faster- than how people usually are.” Despite the rocking force, he still managed a proper answer with fragmented sentences.

  “Fast? What do you mean- wait! Are you telling me you’re light, super speed or something?!”

  “I, guess- so- I-”

  “I get it now! The milk and just now! You’re-” As the truth dawned on her, she gasped widely in admiration. Before her scream could echo the crowded street, she covered her mouth.

  The Gardener looked at him, afraid that she might have revealed something too important and sensitive to handle, yet in response, his face didn’t change in any manner. Still the innocent, blank look without deception nor tension.

  “I’ll… keep a secret, okay?” She whispered, leaning in close.

  “Thank… you…? Why?” He tilted his head, unsure of what she was referring to. To the Kid, even, revealing his ability wasn’t a big deal. He never thought of it as something truly special or worth keeping within, nor did he believe it was something worth telling people.

  “Why? I mean, isn’t that so powerful? In this day and age where speed decides everything in a duel? A shoot out?!”

  “Shoot… out? I never participated in one. Duel? Maybe…”

  “I mean, oh yeah, you’re still…”

  A Kid.

  Trailing off, her excitement died down for a fraction of a second, for a realization that bolted across her mind. Guilty she felt just by having suggested such absurdity.

  She reluctantly released his shoulders, calming her heart with a hand to her chest.

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  “I get it. Sorry if I misspoke.”

  “I don’t mind, really.”

  “I, well, I really appreciate it. But it’s really nice, that swiftness of yours. I just hope you never steal things from people with that… speed, right?”

  “Your grandma told me that too.”

  “Haha, I guess… we both see the same thing.” She giggled softly, relieved that he wasn’t hurt by her bold claims. It was unusual, for her to be the immature one between the two of them. With a hint of redness on her face, unable to manage a good diversion from the awkwardness, she lightly asked.

  “Well, so… why… did you pull me here?”

  It was the first question to ever come to her mind, in a weak voice that was. Although she had regained a small part of her composure, doubts lingered in her gut still, wondering if asking another question was a mistake.

  The Kid, unaware of the storm within her, cooly answered.

  “I just think… you were feeling uncomfortable back then.”

  “Really…?”

  “That woman gave you a hard time, so I figured-”

  “Hold.” A finger, raised to the Kid’s lips.

  Her heart beat again. Enthusiasm? Excitement? A feeling flared within her rib, an unnamed sensation she didn’t know she had.

  Happiness.

  Someone had seen through her facade. A miracle, short-lived or not.

  “I see. The world outside… sure is amazing to have people like you.” Looking up into the sky, she whispered to her inner soul. “I see…”

  The sky. Then, to the boy.

  “Hey! I’ll show you around the place, okay? Let’s call it a tour!”

  “Oh, um, thank you-”

  “Don’t thank me! From now on, I’ll be your tour girl. So someday, beyond this land, show me the true world outside, okay?”

  --

  The afternoon breeze of winter. Somewhere in Richieton, the playful voice accompanied the Kid’s presence.

  “So this is my favorite barbershop. The owner is a nice woman!”

  “I see…”

  “Over there is the market! We have food, drinks, some common utilities, and that’s all!”

  “I see…”

  A tour. The slums, though as filthy as it was, became vibrant and colorful under the guidance of the Gardener. Instead of a grumble normally seen on the people’s exterior, they were smiling, grinning and giggling. It was a rare time for the Gardener to be so cheerful.

  Yet, the Kid could still sense certain glares of animosity from beneath the veil of shadow. Unsurprising as it was, he remained still a stranger, a new face to the society of mongrels.

  “Here, milk for you! Want some? Here you go!” Without the need to hear for a response, she shoved the bottle into his hand.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem!” Bright and wide, she smiled.

  They continued the little journey further into the center of Richieton, until the appearance of a large gate with a barricaded wall.

  “What is it?” Curiosity drove his lips, his eyes placed on the enormous gate and the outline of the defense.

  “The Uptown.” Her voice lacked the previous enthusiasm, though her face remained unchanged.

  “Uptown?”

  “Uptown. Where all the rich and noble people live. They call it uptown, but its not really what it is. It’s just a way to disguise themselves as fair and clean. I really…”

  Trailing off, she jerked herself back instantly and made a playful gesture with her tongue out.

  “Oops. I guess I got too far. I shouldn’t have said that, right?”

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind it. So people can’t get in here?”

  “Yep. If you’re poor, then you can’t.”

  Noticing the wooden barrels stationed above the wall, twenty of them at least, the Kid gestured towards them.

  “Can I ask what those are?”

  Snapping out of the grim talk, she smiled her way back into the conversation.

  “Oh yeah, those. They are oils, yeah. The nobles don’t want to keep something so messy within their quarter, yet they don’t want them placed so far away, so… that’s where they’re keeping them. If anything goes missing, they can always put a blame on… us.”

  “I see-”

  The Kid cut himself off, quickly grabbing the Gardener’s wrist and pulled her to his side. From behind them, emerged a horse carriage that barely grazed her shoulder. The second time that day, she was pulled in by the boy from danger.

  “Watch your back! You dumb mutts!” Shouted angrily, the man above the cart. The carriage marched its way towards the uptown, not even a word of apology followed.

  Staggered, the Gardener leaned against the boy, her breathing rose aloud from the sudden threat that had already excused itself away.

  “Oh, err… thank you.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Oh, yeah, I think I’m fine.”

  She quickly got back on her feet, brushing off the imaginary dust on her body and fixing her hair. A dry laugh escaped her lips, which was driven away by the raging embarrassment.

  “Ahaha… thank you… for… again.”

  “I don’t mind it.”

  She sighed in relief, seeing the Kid’s unfazed expression. Perhaps a small letdown, she felt also, wanting to dig out at least a change in his clueless, or hardened look. It was impossible to tell what was floating in his head, the Gardener hummed in contemplation.

  He never spoke of anything outside of ‘Yes’, ‘I don’t mind’, ‘Okay’, ‘Are you okay?’.

  Yet as her frustration was leading the plot in her mind, an interruption came across their conversation. A hooded figure, reaching out with their hand from the tattered cloak.

  “Hi. I’m sorry for the… carriage just now. Are any of you hurt?” A soft voice, carefully worded and cautious.

  Caught off guard by the new uninvited guest, both of them could only bow their heads politely.

  “Ah, yeah, me and the boy… we are unharmed. Thank you.”

  “If so, I’m glad to hear that. Oh, yes, by the way…”

  The cloaked man, based on the voice, gestured behind his back. Riding above the surface, another carriage emerged from the smoke of the horizon. However, a clear contrast to the previous one was visible.

  Covered with ornaments and decorations, a bright white and pink color shining away the muddy ground, the air of elegance hung around the atmosphere. An entire different kind of ‘noble’, it screamed.

  Beautiful. Cute. The first two words of irony that she thought of. Though her hatred and dislike for the noble flared her chest, she couldn’t withhold the truth.

  With the guidance of the stranger, they all stepped out of the intended route, making way for the peachy goer.

  “Well, can I ask who…” The Gardener weakly voiced, unable to point a finger towards the cart.

  “Oh, the person inside is… very important. I can’t reveal anything more than that.”

  “I see…”

  As the flashy carriage was crossing their stand, the trio could only look at it.

  Yet, a sudden scream blasted through the air.

  “My child!”

  Atop a balcony on the other side of the road, to the cry of a woman in distress, a child was falling down from the wooden railings. In a matter of seconds, the small girl’s head would land on the corner of the vehicle.

  Death, would it seem. The skull and the neck would shatter like crumbling porcelain.

  The scream reached the people’s ears like a warning siren. Blinded by the massive frame of the carriage, the trio couldn’t witness the tragedy that was about to unfold. There was no visual, no indicators, nor any way to get to the other side.

  “Tch, there’s no…” The hooded man cursed in his breath, his eyes spun around the environment looking for a certain something. Frustration was obvious.

  The Gardener, on the other hand, gasped in confusion and panic, her imagination unable to catch up with the flow of lacking information. A normal reaction for any human being.

  However,

  The Kid was already gone from where he was standing.

  Unheard. Unnoticed. Unpredicted.

  Vanished into the empty space.

  The falling girl shut her eyes tight, the world around her lay silent despite the raging blow of wind around her ears.

  So slow yet so fast.

  And there was nothingness.

  Until nothingness,

  became something.

  The first thing the child witnessed was not darkness.

  The sky. The light. The freshness of life.

  In the protective arms of someone, the gloved hands covering her head.

  The Kid’s.

  Together, she saw herself floating above the air, the sun shone on her eyes like a gemstone of hope. A divine interception, from an angel perhaps.

  It was impossible. Yet such impossibility became a reality.

  The hooded man had barely perceived it.

  The Kid, without a millisecond of hesitation, had dashed forward with an impressive momentum. His frame ducked underneath the moving wheels, through the gap of death. Finally, he had somehow flown high enough and fast enough to embrace the small child in his arms.

  On the dirt, carved a bold imprint of his steps. A shattered wooden fence and pillar marked his way above.

  Recklessness may it was, the man admitted still, such was a feat no one in the world could have achieved.

  Like an angel that denied death, in front of his eyes.

  The pristine carriage immediately halted, as the commotion grew undeniably larger. The two floating ones slowly landed on the railing, beheld by the amazed crowd. Within the sea of people, the hooded man faded into nothingness.

  In the forest of faces, only one stood out to the Kid.

  The Gardener’s.

  He couldn't tell what face she was making, yet, in his heart, he had known. Although it was unclear how or why such a thing was conceivable, he dared not deny it.

  Thus, he smiled back at her ever-shining happiness.

  --

  Then, suddenly, cutting through the temporary connection was a loud high-pitched yell.

  “Hey! You there!”

  Unlike the joy and delightful words of the crowd, the sudden intruding voice was demanding. The Kid placed his eyes down below in order to catch the source.

  The attention of the people was then glued to a young girl in a frill dress. The striking color of pink and white, the fluffiness of the feather coat, the bounciness of hair drills, and a smug face to top it all. Marching her way from the stationed cart, she stood firmly before the Kid.

  A young girl who was even shorter than the Kid. From the realm of nobility and wealth, she had arrived and claimed. Astonished by the performance of someone no older than her, her desire to conquer rose within her chest.

  “Come down here and kneel! For I am the Countess!”

  “Count… Countess…?” His puzzled look was obvious, tilting his head to the new and novel presence.

  “You don’t know who I am? Fine, then. But heed my words. You are going to work for me, no but! Name your price, and be mine!!” A finger towards the Kid. There was no deceit nor reluctance behind her determination.

  Absurd as it was, she truly desired so.

  “Eh?”

  Thus, shaking the earth and the absurdity of all, was the scream from the Gardener behind them all.

  --

  Outskirt.

  The uninvited guest stepped closer to the old Courier. Their hands gripped the hem of the decorated hood and revealed themselves.

  Pointy ears. Sharp teeth. A maiden.

  The Courier, bewildered, muttered a question.

  “Who are you, lady?”

  “Ah. Just call me… the Sage.” Grand words, followed by a playful spin. The cloak rustled against the golden decorations.

  “Sage?” He repeated.

  “Yep, yep. Sage.”

  “Haha. I’ve been seeing so many strange people.” A dry laugh, slapping on his knee.

  “Delight me, mister.” She leaned in closer, her hand trailing on the horse’s smooth skin.

  “Well, yesterday I got a small kid. Today, I just met an old pastor asking for directions. And now, a beautiful young lady just came out of nowhere with… a unique outfit. If you ask me, then it would be very special these days, hmm?”

  A satisfying answer. The old man jolted slightly at the widened grin on the Sage.

  “I see, I see. Just… as I expected.”

  “So, fair lady… do you need anything from this old body?”

  “Ah, yes! Where did they go? The previous special people, this… Kid and the Priest?” She voiced her curiosity with a beaming smile, climbing on his carriage without excusing herself.

  “Oh, err, to… Richieton. Why? Do you know them?”

  “Hmm… soon.”

  “What? So, lady, do you also want to go to…”

  Nodding vigorously, she replied “Yeah. Richieton!”

  "Alone?"

  "Oh, well... I do have a friend with me. They're just... mmm... busy."

  “I see. But... What special occasion is there? Wedding? Funeral?”

  As the man turned around and faced the girl, what met him was an eerie long gaze that crept into his gut, and a haunting smirk of excitement.

  “Yeah. Funeral it is.”

  Then, her eyes fixed on the small cage of Hummingbird. The animal, intimidated, jumped around the cage as if it was trying to escape from the presence before it. The screeching sound of metal against its claws.

  "Don't worry, little boy." She whispered, her finger hovering above the shaking containment.

  "The end of something... is always the beginning of something else. Enjoy your days, fella."

  The destination. Richieton.