“SLOW DOWN, BOY! I DIDN’T PLAN ON RACING YOU!” Singo’s voice echoed through the narrow streets as he struggled to keep pace with his student, Cadryn, who was already far ahead. The old man huffed, no strength left to hover, shaking his head. “Why do I even try?” he muttered, pausing to catch his breath. He leaned against a streetlamp, watching Cadryn disappear into the distance. "Let him burn that youthful energy. I’ll catch up when he slows down."

Cadryn, unaware of his teacher’s struggle, embraced the cool sea breeze as it swept over him, carrying the salty tang of the ocean. The distant roar of waves crashing against rocky cliffs filled the air, reminding him of the relentless power of the sea. The town came into view, its rugged buildings perched along sloping ridges, standing defiantly against the elements. The houses, stacked tightly and weathered by time, showed the resilience of those who had lived there for generations. Their foundations, a blend of ancient stone and newer materials, reflected a balance of tradition and modernity, built to endure the coastal storms.

The main road stretched before him, its surface formed from stones carefully toppled and compressed into a near-flat pathway. It wove through the town, connecting the bustling marketplace to quieter, residential streets. Carts and trucks old, rusted and yet surviving, lined the edges, unloading goods for the day’s trade.

Cadryn greeted familiar faces along the way—some with an ashen, yellowish complexion like his own, their closed secondary eyes, or Acocha, marking them as part of the same lineage. Many wore traditional garb—ponchos draped over their shoulders, adorned with bold, geometric patterns in earthy tones. The loose, flowing garments, paired with wide belts, swayed with each step, their designs reflecting the rugged yet beautiful landscape of their coastal town.

Weaving through the crowded market, Cadryn noticed the humans, some dressed in more minimalist clothing, with a few in fitted, practical outfits suited for their heavy labor. Others, clearly influenced by the city's fashion, wore sleek, progressive attire, their modern appearance standing in stark contrast to the more traditional garb of the other townsfolk. Among them were the Miltos, heavily cloaked in layers of fabric that concealed their entire bodies, as if they were avoiding the sun at all costs. Their movements were deliberate, sticking to the shaded parts of the market, and as dusk settled, their faintly translucent skin gave off a soft glow. The distinct blend of styles—modern, traditional, and the ethereal presence of the Miltos—created a palpable sense of mystery and cultural diversity, making the town feel like a living tapestry of interwoven stories and appearances.

Among them, he also spotted Animalians—demi-humans with subtle beastly features. Some had the ears and tails of wolves or foxes, while others carried the feline grace of large cats, their faces reflecting their animal ancestry. Usually wearing similar attire to that of the humans to their suiting. A group of canine Animalians unloaded crates from a cart nearby, while feline vendors sold fresh produce to a mix of buyers from various races. The vibrant market buzzed with life, a colourful tapestry of cultures interwoven into the town's daily rhythm, where humans, Miltos, Animalians, and more coexisted in a unique, bustling harmony.

Passing through the more commercial areas he comes across a bridge wide enough to allow the varying modes of transport to pass, with a river flowing underneath at the end of a valley into the sea. On the other side, he’s met with taller and more residential buildings and as he slips away in one of the smaller pathways he comes across a cul-de-sac with tall and stacked houses together.

Seeing a man sitting hunched over and reading a newspaper at the foot of his neighbour's stairs his face begins to light up going over to acknowledge Mr. Amnos. “Evening sir Amnos, tough day? He asked him to rest his hands on his neighbour's handrail.

Amnos glanced up from his paper, his eyes tired but kind. “Just got off work,” he grumbled, his voice thick with fatigue. “Feel like I’ve been hit by a carriage.” His arms were dotted with small cuts and bruises, likely from the manual labour he’d been doing.

I'm going to tell everything I did today, let me see? I learned to fly okay let’s tell him that.

Cadryn grinned, trying to lift his spirits. “I trained today, sir,” he said proudly. “Learned something new, actually. I—”

Before he could finish, Amnos interrupted with a raised hand. “I think I heard your mother mention she wanted to see you,” he said, a subtle dismissal in his tone. The man’s eyes flicked back to the paper, clearly more interested in its contents than in conversation.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Oh, right. Thanks, sir.” Cadryn raised a hand in a lazy farewell, understanding that Mr. Amnos wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He trotted up the stairs to his home, eager to share his day with his mother.

Climbing up the flight of stairs and opening the door to his home, content being home wanting to meet his mother.

What’s that smell?

Noticing a few pots of flowers, he questions himself if that’s the cause but decides to move from the entrance of his home to the kitchen to see his mother sitting by a wooden dining room table. Reading an array of various letters one by one.

“Hi mah, what’s that smell” he uttered to her, sniffling his nose, disrupting her seeming train of thought she put what she was doing aside smiling and welcoming home her son, “Afternoon, Cadryn.” Going over he pulls out his seat and his mother speaks once more “I brought some flowers from the market, they’re on the verandah.” glancing at the flowers with mild distaste. “I think they’re too strong,” he muttered, resting his head in his hands.

His mother chuckled softly. “Oh hush, they’ll be fine. I’ll move them to the verandah if they bother you so much.”

Cadryn grumbled something incoherent, too tired to argue. He let his head rest on the cool surface of the table, his eyes drifting shut as his mother went back to her letters.

“Where were you this evening?” she asked casually, face down into her letters “I was out and about, having fun that all,” he muttered hiding his yawns beneath the table from his mother. “Did you see Mrs. Atsaul?” his mother asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Mmmm... no,” Cadryn slurred, barely able to stay awake. The day had caught up with him, the rush of training, the town, and now the comfort of home lulling him into a state of near slumber.

Knock…Knock

His mother was about to ask another question when there was a sudden noise coming from the front door.

Cadryn jolted upright, blinking the sleep from his eyes. His mother looked up from her letters, her brow furrowing slightly. She rises from her seat to check the entrance, opening it to be greeted by no other than Singo.

“Afternoon Ms. Fragmos” a shocked Singo said, expecting Cadryn to answer the door as he promised. No sooner did she quickly slam on to stop by his tattered boot. “Please remove your foot from the door, sir, or I’ll call the police to arrest you” she threatened him, “I want no dealing with you, nor any with my son.”

Now Cadryn hearing the sudden uproaring at the entrance rises, still trying to wipe the sleep off his face, approaching the entrance to also be shocked to see that it was no other than Singo. A sudden glance over Ms. Fragmos’s shoulder and his eyes meet Cadryn’s, giving him a defeated look.

I forgot

He knew he should’ve reminded him not to come by because his mother had to stay home from the market to attend to some ‘business’.

“I thought they kicked you out of the town, what are you doing here,” she asked, her voice emulating a deep upset towards him, as all her eyes opened she stared into his face enraged.

“It’s been a few years since we’ve last met,” he pleaded to her, “But I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot at first.” “I don’t care whatever reason it is I won’t let you in,” she responded with the anger still written all over his face.

“Your son has amazing potential! He’s even been able to keep up with me in training! That’s incredible right?” Trying to boast of her son’s ability to her, “He may be fluent in the arts but he gots great skill.” “Get out of here or else you won’t like it,” she threatened him once more.

“Mam I just want to-,” she immediately interjected before he finished what he said, “Three-two-”, she began a count with a worried look he hastily dragged his foot stuck in the door and stumbled a bit before scurrying down the flights of steps behind him.

Outside, Mr. Amnos still reading his newspaper hears the noise of scurried feet barreling down on Singo rushing down the stairs stumbling and then–

Boom

On the ground next to him, he could only look at him as he wheezed on the ground. Singo turns as they briefly meet face-to-face before he brushes himself off and continues scurrying out of sight.

“Neighbours,” he said to himself as he closed his newspaper and headed inside.