Cornelius had arrived in Bel Dais with a sense of intrigue. The city was a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and scents, unlike anything he had experienced in the orderly streets of Yudrosil. As he strolled through the bustling marketplace, the vibrant fabrics, exotic fruits, and handcrafted jewelry drew his attention. Everything seemed to carry a piece of Bel Dais's rich heritage. The people moved with a relaxed grace, their clothing loose and colorful, in stark contrast to the formal attire of the mainland. Cornelius couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his polished shoes and tailored suit standing out amidst the vibrant tapestry of the island. He pulled at the fabric of his vest, the purple silk already beginning to wear against the barrage of metallic sand.
He was jostled from his musings when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He looked up to see a very tall dark-skinned man wearing the local clothing, his blonde hair wrapped up in a turban. He smiled warmly at Cornelius and spoke with a slight accent.
“Young sir, it’s unwise to be out without a way to protect yourself from the sands.”
Cornelius shrugged off the man’s hand. “I wanted to see the city.”
The man retracted his hand, seeming to be unbothered by the dismissive attitude. “And of course you may. You are our guest. But as our guest, your health is our concern. Here, these were made for a boy about your size, they should fit.” He held out a bundle of folded clothes, dyed a slight dull blue. Cornelius took them, then gave the man a shrewd look.
“Who are you? I should inform you I have no money to give so if that’s what you’re expecting-”
The man held up a hand. “I am called Xavier. I am one of the Leader’s assistants. There was no ill intent, I assure you, young sir. I just wanted to keep you safe.”
Cornelius scoffed “Father has bodyguards for that. But… thank you. For your kindness.” He bowed as he was taught to do towards elders who were of a lower station. Xavier swept his arm out, and his opposing leg, and bowed so low his hand could have touched his foot. It looked like a bow a dancer would give to their partner.
“I, and the people of Bel Dais, are at your service,” Xavier said, then straightened. Cornelius returned to his room on the ship to put on the ensemble of linen coverings. He didn’t bother trying to replicate the turban the man had, instead just wrapping his mouth and hair like a scarf. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed that the loose fabrics hid his body quite effectively. Stips of linen were wrapped around the arms so that the skin would be safe when they left the safety of the poncho’s sleeves. Loose pants went over his underclothes and were sealed shut with buckles around his ankles, and straps connected the pants to a pair of boots that could be closed tightly up to the shin. This gave him an idea… If he couldn’t recognize himself, perhaps he could sneak away from his father’s guards.
Such a feat turned out to be as easy as it sounded. He slipped out the ocean window of his room and leaped from it to the dock, where he was swallowed up by similarly dressed individuals. Cornelius figured he had a couple of hours before the guards would notice, so he moved quickly with the crowd, following the carts and men carrying boxes toward what was probably a marketplace.
The architecture was a harmonious blend of nature and craftsmanship. Buildings seemed to grow from the earth itself, seamlessly merging with the surroundings due to the built-up sand. It was a stark departure from the imposing structures of Yudrosil, where every edifice was a testament to mainland engineering. Stalls were set up all along the street with various goods that sparkled or smelled or barked. It was chaotic, so many people talking and shouting over others, but the merchants moved with superhuman efficiency that was mesmerizing. A single-stall merchant handled nearly twenty people at once, showing off goods, making trades, and weighing coins. In one hidden courtyard, Cornelius stumbled upon a group of children engrossed in a spirited game of some kind involving a ball. They moved with a fluidity born from years of living amidst the sands of Bel Dais. Their laughter was infectious, and Cornelius couldn't resist watching and trying to figure out the rules, to no avail.
After getting his fill of the city, he decided to start heading home, only to realize he was quite lost. He took turn after turn, trying to follow the sounds of the waves only to find himself lost further. He began to panic, and picked up the pace, rounding a corner too quickly and running face-first into someone else. They both tumbled down in a heap, and Cornelius groaned while the other person pushed the mainland boy off.
“Watch yourssself, kid!” the person said. They stood up and rubbed the spot where Cornelius had run into them. It was another boy, but taller and older. He was completely wrapped up like any other local, but Cornelius saw his eyes were yellow, and his pupils were slits. The wrapped arms were hued green and glimmered with shiny scales. It was a gorgon boy, and he had three friends with him. He glared daggers at Cornelius as he dusted himself off, looking between his assailant and his belongings now strewed upon the ground, covered in metallic sand.
“I was in a hurry. I’ve gotten myself lost.” Cornelius explained.
“That didn’t sound like an apology.”
“Because it wasn’t.” Cornelius began to turn, but the gorgon boy grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall.
“You could have dented one of my scales, human. I want an apology.”
“Oh, I’m not human, I’m from-”
The gorgon shook Cornelius “I don’t care where you’re from, kid. You need to watch where you’re going. Wait…” The gorgon sniffed Cornelius, much to Cornelius’ displeasure. “You’re a mainlander. You must be one of those that came on the fancy ship.” Cornelius gulped and saw the look the three gorgons shared. “How about, in way of apology, you empty your pockets boy.”
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“But I don’t-”
The gorgon tightened his grip on Cornelius’ shoulder and lowered his mask to reveal his reptilian snout and rows of teeth. His breath stank of fish. “I won’t ask again, boy.”
A rock flew and hit the gorgon on the shoulder. “That’s enough, Gaz!” Another rock flew, striking the gorgon in the back of the head. The four of them looked toward the voice and saw a wrapped-up local girl tossing a rock up and down. Gaz hissed.
“Stay out of this, girl. I want my apology from this one.”
“Your apology will be a rock between the eyes, you know better. You wouldn’t want word to spread that you’d beaten up the mainlander’s son and then get banned from the race, would you?”
Gaz hissed again, seemed to deliberate, then let go of Cornelius. He dropped to the floor, holding his shoulder, and watched as the gorgon trio stalked away. His mysterious savior strode up to him and held out a hand. If it weren’t for her voice and the occasional glimpse of her frame beneath her poncho, Cornelius wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was.
“You’re that girl. From before. The engineer’s daughter.” He took her hand.
“It’s Kayla. And you’re welcome.” She hoisted the shorter boy to his feet easily.
“I didn’t say thank you.”
“I know. Why was Gaz about to sink his teeth in you?”
Cornelius shrugged “I ran into him. It seemed to make him very upset. Then he sniffed me and somehow knew I was from the mainland.”
Kayla nodded knowingly. “Gorgons despise invasions of personal space. That was why he was so angry. As for the smell, they’re lizard people. Better sniffers than humans or elves like you. You probably do smell like the mainland. Don’t worry, the sands will cover you eventually. Come on, my friends and I were just shopping. We can escort you back to your boat.”
“Ship.” Cornelius corrected.
“Do you want me to get the gorgons back here? Just come on.”
Cornelius frowned and followed after. This wasn’t the treatment he was used to. “How do you speak such good common?” He asked.
“I studied it in school, like every other kid. What? Did you think we wouldn’t be taught the mainland tongue?”
“There are many mysteries about the Bel Dais. I had heard stories that you were… well, maybe best not to repeat those stories.”
“We love those stories. Our sailors share them all the time, and we get a good laugh out of them. They often perpetuate the fantasies, because naive little mainland boys believe them and then never come here.”
“You don’t seem very fond of us mainlanders.”
Kayla didn’t respond to that. She lead Cornelius out onto the street, and up to a couple of other Bel Dais her age. They hugged and showed off the things they had gathered, before noticing Cornelius.
One of them said something in Bel Dais, pointing. Cornelius was going to introduce himself, but Kayla waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.
“One of the mainlanders. He got lost on the way to his boat.”
“A mainlander? Cool!” the same one said, switching seamlessly to common. The pair rushed over and started barraging Cornelius with questions about Yudrosil, his clothes, his name, and so many more. Kayla pried them away and scolded them for the barrage.
“These are Marcus and Clara. They’re siblings.” She indicated which was which, though it was hard to distinguish with their similar clothing. At least Marcus was taller, and Carla seemed to be wearing a specially-made pair of goggles.
“Come on, let’s get you home to your boat.”
“Ship.”
“Whatever.”
Cornelius followed close behind the group as they lead him through this market street. Kayla walked in front, and the two siblings Marcus and Clara flanked him. He felt like he was being surrounded by his guards again, and that same sense of separation crept in. He didn’t want to go back to the ship; there was still time left to the day. He wanted to explore this place.
Well, what better way to do it than these three? he realized.
“Erm, Kayla?”
The group stopped, and Kayla turned around inquisitively.
“I’m sorry to ask for more considering you’ve already done so much, but could I ask a favor?”
She nodded “Yeah, sure. What is it?”
“Well, I came out here hoping to explore the city. As you are aware, I’ve never been to the Shaking Reefs.”
“Doesn’t seem like that worked out well for ya,” She teased. Cornelius was glad for the layers of cloth hiding his blush.
“Yes. Well. I took a risk going out alone because I wanted a more… unguided experience. Without guards or my father. But I think what I need is an experience guided by locals. Perhaps yourselves?”
Kayla didn’t respond. Cornelius assumed she and her friends were mulling it over, but he couldn’t really tell. They made strange gestures to each other using their hands and arms.
“What are you doing?” Cornelius asked.
“Oh, thinking,” Carla explained, “I guess you’ve not learned gesture-speak.”
Marcus gestured again, to his head and heart “This means ‘consideration’ or ‘thinking it over.’ Bel Dais use gesture-speak when we can’t see each other’s faces. Helps a lot.”
Carla chimed in “It kinda becomes habit. Some people will use different signs than what they’re actually feeling, like foreign traders, but it’s considered very rude.”
Cornelius mimicked the gesture.
“Yeah, like that, but with your heart hand out like you’re accepting the idea and holding it in your hands. If you have your hand against your chest, that means you’re not considering the proposal or whatever.”
Cornelius corrected himself.
“Good! We’ll have you gesturing like a Bel Dais in no time!”
“Back in Yudrosil, we send messages using our spheres,” Cornelius said, dropping his arms “But those messages can be very short, and tone or expression can be lost, so we use special symbols at the end of those very short messages sometimes that look like faces. Same idea, I suppose.”
“Spheres?” Kayla asked, intrigued. “Are those the weird glass balls I saw on your ship?”
Cornelius nodded. “So what’s the verdict?”
They all looked at each other and shrugged.
“Sure.”