by cyrevan » Wed Aug 30, 2023 3:58 am
cyrevan 380227
kalon name: ytan (he/him)
//
“Mm.. I’ll let you have a pass,” the slouched Watcher grumbled, his attention dedicated primarily to flicking nasty little balls of lint and god-knows-what off of his desk.
“Thank you, sir.” Ytan responded quickly. The Watcher’s yellowed eyes came up to meet his.
“Don’t make it a habit. Next time Sue’ll be in town and she doesn’t go so easy. Get home safe, you.”
Ytan nodded and hopped back onto his bike. He waited for the gate to lift into the sky, then passed the Watcher’s station. As he pedaled, the generator whirred to life and an unsteady beam lit the path ahead.
Ytan was not going home.
“No, look at my fingers. One, two, three, four, five! I said I’d give you a couple days, as a sort of grace period. And you still don’t have them?”
“Correction, I have one.” Ytan carefully undid the clasp on his bag and pulled out a wrapped artifact.
Okra took it into her arms. “Hm. Good weight, at least. I can work with this.”
“Listen, the glamour’s wearing off. Barely made it through the gate this time. Could you pay me in full? I’ll bring more next time.”
“Always taking what you can get, huh?” Okra sounded a bit sad. “This magic doesn’t come cheap. I just… wonder if there’s a better life out there for you.”
“I don’t need your judgment. Just your product.”
“This is the last time I’m letting you have this.” The witch muttered, sweeping debris out of her workspace.
“We both know that’s not true.”
With his glamour restored, Ytan looked—and felt—like an angel. He scoffed at Okra’s words as he walked. A better life? How should that feat be accomplished, if everywhere remotely decent on this plane only offered space to Magics. He couldn’t go home. He didn’t want to. All he needed was a little disguise, that was all. Then he would glow, and people would look upon him with respect. The money from those odd jobs he took as an angel, that was an after effect. Though Ytan couldn’t say he minded the extra income.
Ytan stopped to observe his reflection in a puddle. His hair flowed neatly around him and a soft glowing aura indicated that he was in fact, of this realm. Knowing the true nature of the magic surrounding him didn’t stop him from admiring this better version of himself.
As Ytan made his back to the path, it wasn’t the disguise that allowed such gentle footing and graceful strides. Before his exile, he had been a dancer, and though he hardly considered himself such anymore, it showed in the very way he moved. He thought it ironic that despite everything he had to forge, a glimpse of his elegant shadow moving along the city walls could fool a stranger that an angel was in their midst.
Last edited by
cyrevan on Wed Sep 27, 2023 1:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
