I gazed into the fountain, transfixed by the oscillating cascade of water, wondering where it all came from.
Peering over the rim, I could see hundreds of glittering copper pennies lining the bottom of the pool, mixed in with dimes, nickels and… what were the big ones called again?
Tootsie Pops?
No… that’s just what you can purchase for one of them at the concession stand.
Regardless, by the standards of my eight-year-old self, there was a lot of money down there, and I had nothing more profitable to do with my time. You’d think that a spring break trip to Florida would entail more action, adventure, and the occasional titty falling out of a drunk girl’s bikini. But here we were, spending our day waiting for adults to finish with their adult stuff in a labyrinthine outdoor shopping mall.
My parents and sisters were off shopping for girl stuff at a nearby outlet, so until further notice, my snivelling 6-year-old brother and I were posted up like pimps at the most identifiable location in this bustling consumer’s paradise, armed only with our instincts and a 20-minute video on Stranger Danger.
And as fate would have it, on this particular day those skills would be put to the test.
Our instructor was a pot-bellied middle-aged man with long, greasy hair that clung to a receding hairline. As I gazed into the fountain, he crept up behind us and announced himself suddenly.
“Hey kids! I bet you can’t jump into the fountain and run all the way across!” he burbled in mock enthusiasm, a cheerful smile on his lips and stone-cold death in his eyes.
I nodded in agreement - I didn’t want to get all wet.
“You sure about that?” he pressed. “That’s what I’d be doing if I was your age. Tell you what - if you and your brother run through the fountain…” he looked both ways, playing it off as if we were co-conspirators, “I just so happen to have two candy bars for the both of you.”
Just so happen to have…
He said it so casually, and yet, as young as I was, I could still sense machinations and subterfuge. A carefully-constructed bouquet of red flags.
…two candy bars for the both of you
Oh wait, he said candy. My stomach rumbled.
“I want to.” I said apologetically, “but we’d get all wet.”
The man shrugged. “That’s all right, I’ve got a change of clothes for you in my van. So what do you say?”
His logic was irrefutable. Just as I was preparing to climb into the fountain, my brother spoke up, the gears in his mind clearly turning.
“We don’t like candy bars.” he said. “We like hot dogs.”
The man smiled. “Well, that’s a good thing, because I just so happen to have two hot dogs for you and your brother as well.”
Nice! Even better! I cheered internally, but my brother still wasn’t done.
“Actually… we don’t like hot dogs. We like cheeseburgers.” he continued.
“Well! I just so happen to have two cheeseburgers as well.”
Then it hit me. The man didn’t have any of this stuff, he’d say whatever it took just to get us all wet! The change of clothes was probably a lie too… what a meanie. Without another word, I led my brother back into a nearby store to reunite with our parents.
I swear, whoever writes those Stranger Danger videos deserves a goddamn Oscar, because they’re almost too accurate. It’s like the people who write them are white-hat child-enjoyers channeling their fantasies into their work. Which would be disgusting… if their improper predilections hadn’t saved my life. Well, them and my brother.
My little brother… aka “The Brain”. Where would I be without him?
----------------------------------------
I gazed into the fountain, transfixed by the oscillating cascade of water, wondering where it all came from.
It was impressive that Castella even had a fountain in the first place - everything else that I’d seen in Alterra seemed approximately medieval, so the last thing I was expecting to find was clean, running water. I made a mental note to look around for a bathhouse; after an afternoon spent tramping around the city, ya boi was getting pretty gnarly.
Unfortunately, it had been an unproductive afternoon. I’d been wandering around for hours, showing my shackles to every blacksmith in town, but the response was always the same: Nothing we can do kid, sorry. Apparently their forges didn’t get hot enough to make mythril malleable enough to break, and even if they did, they’d have to throw me in there along with them. Even the dwarven blacksmiths gave the same response, and they were supposedly the best (Note: they consider the phrase little people highly offensive - they prefer the term dwarves, though midgets is also permissible).
I was resting (okay, loitering) in the middle of market square, the beating heart of Castellan commerce. Crowds of people surged all around me, on foot and in carts, while dozens of rows of stalls sold their wares. There were stalls that sold fruits, vegetables, and meat. Weapons, tools, clothes, raw materials…
Throw in some shit-stained fatasses on mobility scooters and you’d have yourself a whole Walmart.
Tucked into a corner of the square, I found the stall where Euric had dropped off the bee venom and confirmed that yes, they really were one silver a pop. I’d shown my collection of coins to a few different merchants as well. Good news - they recognized the coins. Bad news - none of them were very valuable.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Why couldn’t the alien serial killer ephebophile who dropped me here have also been rich? Would that have been too crazy? Is that where the line got drawn?
Fortunately, while Castellan students are undergoing their year of study their meals and lodging are provided for by the government. So I’m not three days away from starvation - I’m a year and three days from it. My stomach made a noise that, in stomachese, translates to DOOM. I decided to heed the warning, and set off to the dormitory post-haste.
While the architecture of the buildings and the products of the market were certainly eye-catching, what really stood out to me about Castella was the people. Like Apis, most Castellans appeared human, but in the big city, the other side of that most was far larger and more diverse. In just one day of exploration, I’d seen cat-people, wolf-people, lizard-people, dwarves… the list goes on. I’d even noticed a family with blue hair and horns like Stella, but they wandered out of sight before I could strike up a conversation.
I was just about to leave the northern end of square when a fluorescent flash of pink hair caught my attention. It belonged to a young, pretty pale girl working at one of the tents - one of the more popular ones at that - there was a line for it wrapping around the adjacent city block. Strangely enough, I couldn’t see any products for sale at her stall.
What are they all waiting for? Is she gonna take her top off or…
As I watched, a man with a splint on one arm walked up to the tent and handed the girl a silver coin. The girl had the man sit in a chair, and then carefully removed the splint and bandages, revealing a mess of purple and red splotches. I winced.
Looks like a broken arm and the bubonic plague had a baby.
Without even flinching, the girl put her hands on the man’s wounds and closed her eyes. A soft pink light emanated from her hands, and the man relaxed visibly. I even caught a bit of second-hand tranquility from twenty feet away. After a long moment of intense concentration, the girl opened her eyes, and the light began to fade.
No way.
I couldn’t believe my eyes - I was looking at a pristine, functional, good-as-new arm. The man balled his hand into a fist experimentally, then flexed a ‘cep and swung his arm in circles. A look of amazement spread across his rugged, masculine face. Then, he pulled the girl into a tight embrace. She patted the man on the back, seemingly used to this reaction from her customers, and bid him farewell. She was probably also used to seeing idiots named Bradley goggling at her in amazement from ten feet away, because she didn’t seem to notice me at all.
The girl picked up a towel and wiped her brow, which was drenched in sweat. She shook her hair, and through the locks I could see long, pointed ears.
A real-life Elf!
The girl huffed in exhaustion. I glanced back at the line, which had somehow only gotten longer. Dozens of people, all desperately waiting to meet one girl, who seemed to be working all by herself. Unfortunately, there were only two things I could do to help her - jack and shit. I turned to leave. For an instant, I saw the girl’s gaze flicker to me, focusing on my shackles. I caught her eye and gave a small, respectful nod. Then I turned away, setting course for the school cafeteria.
----------------------------------------
The road leading north from the market square is one of the busiest roads in Castella. It passes by the Adventurer’s Guild, a large mansion filled with throngs of armed and armored rapscallions, and the Church of Iron of Eastern Castella. The church in Castella had the same tall, steepled structure as in Apis, but it didn’t seem to be much larger, despite handling a presumably far larger crowd.
After several residential blocks of multistory, well-to-do homes, the road eventually ends in a T-junction. The school dormitories sit at the head of the T - a large, stone building for the wealthy students, and an even larger, rickety wooden structure for the… people like me. Alright, I’ll say it…
For the riff-raff.
A small cart was pulled in front of the have-not quarters, piled high with a linen sack of goods, and I could hear a family riffing and raffing away, saying their fond farewells.
“Look at me when I’m speaking, you worthless bitch! Don’t even think about skipping a meal! You’ll waste away, and no man will ever want you!”
Okayyy… not so fond then.
A pudgy girl standing behind the sack nodded, her downcast eyes drilling a hole in the cobblestones.
“I said look at me!” the voice snapped. “Now, wish your mother goodbye, dear.”
I hesitated on the other side of the street, confused.
Where is that voice coming from?
“B-bye mum…” the girl stammered and approached the back of the cart. She briefly put her arms around the linen sack in the back, then quickly pulled away.
My jaw dropped.
It can’t be…
The sack shifted. I briefly glimpsed a row of wobbling chins.
To best describe this horror, I… scratch that, I feel a haiku coming on:
Maybe a falling
Piano will crush my eyes
Should God have mercy
Thank you, thank you.
“I only want what’s best for you dear.” the obeast warbled. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine, because Gurden will be watching. Won’t you, Gurden.”
A pale, greasy boy nodded fervently. “Don’t worry maw-maw. If Ursa don’t eat I’ll shove it down ‘er throat. Jus’ like we practiced.”
As he spoke, the “””woman””” pulled out a large loaf of bread and took a bite.
Maw indeed.
It nodded, satiated by the boy’s honeyed word morsels.
With a final nod at his children, the rail-thin, bent-back man driving the cart viciously whipped the horse, which whinnied reluctantly and started struggle-stepping down the road. My hands balled into fists.
That’s animal abuse.
As the cart drove away, I got my clearest look yet at its voluminous occupant. I couldn’t believe my eyes. As an American, I couldn’t believe my eyes. We’ve got a lot of fat people in my home country, but this woman was a one-in-a-hundred-McDonalds occurrence.
I looked again at the man driving the cart - at his thin, receding hairline. If I woke up one day and found myself in that man’s raggedy shoes, slaving day-in and day-out to finance my useless wife’s addiction to calories, I would probably…
I paused.
Murder my entire family. It would be easy. All I would have to do is… nothing. Just walk away. Forget food and water, this bitch would die of infection in a week without a dedicated attendant to wipe her own ass after taking a shit. I’ve seen my 600lb life. I know the whack shit that goes down behind the scenes to keep this woman at that size. I know what grows between the folds of her folds without constant care and attention. Did I need to know? No! In retrospect I wish I didn’t. I’ve scarfed the forbidden twinkie from the 7/11 of knowledge, and hath been cast down from eden.
Woe unto me!
The guttural memories resurfaced like vomit from my mind. I forced my eyes away from the visceral sight, clutching my stomach, my appetite suddenly vanquished.
As I crossed the street, and caught one final pungent whiff of conversation before I could escape into the dorm.
“You heard what maw-maw said. You have to do what I say now.” the boy growled at his sister. “The food’s free, so you need to EAT. You’re gonna be even larger than maw-maw in a year! She’s gonna be so happy!”
Too bad, really.
The girl didn’t respond. She just continued to look down passively, ready to let it all happen.
I entered the dorm and didn’t look back.
If she was hot, I might have cared.