Ascension - Book Eight - Man x Man

Chapter 28

Souring my mood further, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I attempt to block out the overwhelming whine of sirens and all-terrain vehicles. The tram overhead zooms past, rolling along the railing with a jolt that sends me towards the nearest building to find cover in a shower of sparks that glinted off the aged railing. 

I still hadn't gotten over my run-in with the elementals, fresh in my mind, my heart races as I attempt to reassure myself it was merely faulty fixtures.

 My nerves still shot from the assault at our wedding, I shut my eyes tightly and thump the back of my head on the brick. "Get a grip, Nic." I spit at myself. "You've fought in multiple wars, run a damned country and figured this god forsaken language, this is nothing." It was merely another layer on the decimation of my mental state, with no time to unpack, I would just have to endure until I could sort through the head trash in the only way that appealed to me.

A familiar scent catches my nose, followed by a tune that I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

Tracking the melody, I pace down the cracked sidewalk towards the underbelly of the lively city. It felt safer here, cooler, less pollution even in its darkness. Sighing in relief from the chill of the streets, I slip towards the underpass and into the lesser world of the underprivileged.

The distant sound of clapping echoes off the deteriorating buildings, coupled with the strum of a guitar. I capture the sweet scent of wine, followed by the hoppy taste on the back of my tongue of fresh beer from a tap. The light among the shadowed structures draws me into the echo chamber of the lower city. Glancing over my shoulder, the bustling world above begins to fade away as I follow the sound of music. 

It reminded me of the doll house that Silvia often played with, structured on the outside but once turned around, incomplete and filled with marks and tarnishes from her play time. The under belly of the city was no better than when we first came to this time.

It should not surprise me that he'd found his way here. Singing a tune that I don't recognize, my French is not good enough to translate it. Of course, he would be here, where technology had not found its way and those who lived here could not afford it anyway. I recognize the faint hint of magic, probably lower forms of users who couldn't get work doing much else than the remedial labor of a builder or some type of cleaning. 

The man before me was not a hero, he was merely a boy, much as I was when I'd started this journey. The room is alive, bustling with activity despite the destruction going on above. Clapping, dancing in a manner that I recognize from the city streets of my childhood. 

The faint memory clouds my vision, tainted with the jealousy of a child trapped in the icy grip of high society. My mother explained that this was a dance for the peasants, not one that I and my siblings could partake in. 

We had so wished to join them, for it far surpassed any fun that we had in any of our teachings. Even here, I found myself stuck with that discomfort once more. Perhaps I only envied their ability to maintain such happiness, to not carry the burden for responsibility.

I would not be recognized, not in my civilian clothes. Slipping into the tavern, I rest my hand on some of the last remaining wood in the city that lined the shabby entrance. So few trees remained, this was the forgotten part of this world, the buildings that had not yet been updated and swallowed by concrete. One last farewell to nature, though it called to me in a way that would need further examining.

I was fresh off a large discharge of magic, my body still quivered with it's pulse.

Taverns were always a safe haven, where the lost and forgotten could go to find solace and then disappear once more without a trace. I spy him by his out-of-character clothes, the long dirty white sleeves hanging loosely on his arms, the strings of his shirt long since unraveled as it hung haphazardly on his shoulders. He looked like a lad, not much older than I was, perhaps even younger.