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Tango was running.
The forest was deep, trees towering over him like the claustrophobic buildings of the city he’d escaped from, but with a gentler air, whispering in the wind blowing between them you are safe you are loved you are protected you—
Tango was running.
They were chasing after him, or they had given up miles ago, or they were right behind him, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t risking it as he tripped over heleniums, lavender, and rhododendrons[1], ripping them up with his clawed feet, a faint glimmer of guilt washing over him, gone before it came as he continued his endless sprint and—
Tango was running.
Half his focus was on the terrain, dashing between great pines and over rough, green, colourful foliage; half was on containing the fire raging inside him, both literally and metaphorically: the deep, boiling, fiery anger that he was practically surviving on, threatening to come to the surface and take over his senses until it was let out in the most violent way it could—the anger at the people he thought were friends until their true colours came out, stabbing a sharp and twisted thorn in his heart; and the natural fire inside him that pushed at his skin and was barely contained in its bursts, that wanted to burn down the whole forest and everyone in it, especially the people he was sure were still behind his back, and by all means it should have already, he didn’t think his control was that good but-
Tango was running.
Running and running and running until-
He stopped.
“Woah there, slow down! Nothing’s gonna hurt ya here.”
Tango didn’t need to run anymore.
-------------------------------
Deep in the woods, past cedar trees so tall you can barely see the tops of them, past beds of snapdragons, snowdrops, and yarrow[2], and past invisible barriers known to very few, is a Sanctuary. Only the most desperate find it, tumbling over the juniper that lines the border, coming to look for a safe space, away from the unforgiving world behind them. But here they find a home, one that can keep the dangers outside away, if they so wish. And many of them wish.
--------------------------------
When Tango opened his eyes, he wasn’t quite sure where he was.
Usually this would be cause for panic, but his body was unresponsive from something he didn’t have the energy to remember right now, and also he was staring up at a pair of inquisitive, goat-looking purple-blue eyes, which kinda stopped his brain functions for a moment out of utter shock.
Slowly, feeling returned to his limbs and he blinked languidly.
“Hello?”
The pair of eyes was, apparently, attached to a person, because they also blinked and shot up, revealing a wide grin and a mop of yellow hair. Large, vine-covered horns nestled on their head, covered in blue lilac flowers.[3]
“Oh my gosh, you’re awake! And not brain damaged! Great news!” Tango now noticed that his new companion was wearing a grass-stained lab coat, which was probably not up to code, but Tango did his blacksmithing in a leather vest and fingerless gloves, so he probably wasn’t one to complain.
He was bouncing around now, tapping at Tango’s joints and pressing really hard into his stomach with a single, brutal finger. Tango groaned wordlessly.
“You look like you’re good to go, mister!” The goat-man stood back, hands on his hips. Tango could now see the full majesty of his curly-haired goat legs. Right by his face-region. Great.
He looked away.
Tango then realised what was being said. “Who are you?” were his first words, followed immediately by, “Why do I feel terrible? Also, are you a goat?”
The goat-man laughed brightly. “Well, I’m part sheep, so no, I don’t think so. I’m Zedaph! And I think you feel terrible from the miles-long adrenaline-fueled run you had through those woods.”
He looked out the window to the right of his bed and noticed that, yeah. That was a huge forest. Like huge , the trees that he could see were, like, a mile tall.
“Ah. That would explain it.”
“It certainly would! Although, it doesn’t explain why you were out there in the first place. Those woods are pretty dangerous, you know.” Zedaph’s tone made it feel like a test, like he was expecting a certain answer. Was Tango reading into it too much?
He hesitated for only a second. “I was— I was running. Running away .” Tango reconsidered the sheep legs and decided he could say a bit more. “They chased me out, because of my fire. I didn’t want to die.”
Zedaph’s posture seemed to soften at that. His grin didn’t waver, though, as he replied, “A worthy objective! You’ve done it quite well, I think. No death here. Well then! If there isn’t anything else wrong inside—or outside!—your lovely body, you’re good to go.”
“Uh.” Tango sat up on his elbows, wincing at the pull in his muscles. “Go where?”
“Now that’s the question, isn’t it?” Zedaph picked up some discarded bandages and fiddled with them as he spoke. “Way I see it, you’ve got a few options here. The first is that you could leave now. Go back out to those woods and continue your evasion. Or, you could stay here for a bit, rest up, before you leave. Alternatively,” he looked Tango in the eyes, a glint of something there, “you could stay.”
“Stay?”
“Here! In Sanctuary!” Zedaph grinned brightly. “We try to take in anyone who needs a place. You could stay, if you wanted.”
As Tango opened his mouth to answer, a bitter taste sprung up in the back of his mouth. The faint memory of warm, wooden houses and gentle roads lined with begonias and yellow carnations[4] left his mouth coated in terror and rage, and he hesitated.
“I’ll— I’ll stay a few days,” he eventually replied, swallowing down that bitter feeling, his eyes focusing right over Zedaph’s shoulder at the shelves covered in knick-knacks behind him. “Then we’ll see.”
Zedaph clapped his hands lightly. “Perfect! Come on out, I’ll give you a tour! Let’s find you a place to stay.”
He held out a hand to Tango. After a moment, Tango took it.
----------------------------------------
The outside was vibrant.
That was Tango’s first thought.
His second was that it was busy.
Brightly coloured buildings in a unique style lined either side of stone pathways, all with personalities of their own. Awnings in every colour, threaded with intricate patterns, hung over shopfronts. Lines of lanterns wove their way between streets, and people bustled about everywhere Tango could see. Everything from children chasing each other through the alleyways to people sitting and chatting in front of market stalls. He was almost overwhelmed by the activity.
Zedaph trotted along beside him, tugging Tango this way and that. His horns were covered in red hyacinths[5], which Tango was almost certainly sure weren’t there before, but his memory of waking up was fuzzy enough that he just shrugged it off.
Walking them through a dense shopping area, Zedaph kept up a running commentary, pointing out locations and people.
“That’s the bakery! Wonderful place, that is. I’d recommend the blueberry muffin, personally— oh! There’s Grian and Scar!” He pointed up at the house over the bakery, where a man dressed in green robes was leaning over the balcony railing, waving his arms and yelling indecipherably at a person flying in the air, just out of reach, colourful parrot wings keeping him hovering.
“Scar’s an elf. He got here a few years ago after that whole thing with the army—doesn’t matter right now. He runs the bakery most days,” Zedaph explained. Tango watched Grian laugh loudly and stuff a cookie in his mouth, much to Scar’s indignation.
“Most days?”
“The others he’s part of the fake king’s secret police. He tries to be subtle about it, but everyone knows it’s him. Too much glitter.” Zedaph shuddered. Tango decided not to ask more.
“And Grian?”
“That pesky bird! He’s a menace, Tango. Don’t let him corrupt you.” As Zedaph spoke, Grian did a little flip in the air and almost fell from the sky, disoriented and wobbling a bit. “Poor guy, though. He got here in terrible shape a few years back. Almost got sold to the circus.” He shook his head. “That place is gone, though, don’t you worry. We took care of it. Anyways! These are the public gardens!”
Zedaph led him through a beautiful archway that overflowed with hanging plants and vines to the point where the speckled white of the actual arch was barely visible. The garden beyond was equally teeming with plant life. There were tall trees scattered about—not as tall as the ones in the forest encircling the town, but still tall enough that Tango didn’t think he’d be able to climb them easily—and patches of flowers so thick he didn’t know how people managed to navigate between them. It was both breath-taking, and made his skin itch fiercely with fire running beneath it just thinking about what he could do to this place of natural beauty if he got out of hand.
He ignored it and kept following Zedaph deeper into the gardens, emerging in a quaint herb garden lined with red poppies. Tango couldn’t identify all of them, but he saw some basil growing in clumps, and what he was pretty sure was mint in a few places. Kneeling down between some rosemary bushes, picking out pieces into a basket, was a person with a head of icy blue hair and pointy ears like Scar’s.
“Scott! Say hello to our new addition!”
Scott looked up from the rosemary with a neutral but open expression. What struck Tango the most was how much he contrasted his surroundings, cheekbones sharp and eyes fierce, standing out in the soft garden. He didn’t look like the kind of guy to be on the ground, pants caked in dirt, carefully plucking herbs.
“Hi,” Scott said. “You’re stepping on my clovers.”
Tango jolted, a sharp stab of something filling him. He glanced at his clawed feet and realised that, yeah, he was stepping on some clovers, ripping into a few with his grip on the ground. He carefully manoeuvred onto a patch of plain grass.
“Uh. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Don’t do it again.” He regarded him carefully, an expression Tango was very familiar with. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Tango— of the Tek variety.” Tango hoped his smile wasn’t as forced as it felt, and that maybe his eyes showed his trustworthiness.
“The fire people?” Scott asked. Even though his tone remained neutral, Tango felt his hair stand on end.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?” he said stiffly, claws burying into the soft dirt.
Scott rolled his eyes, which only served to infuriate Tango a little more. “No, you big flaming cat. Just don’t burn down my garden and we’ll be fine.”
“Fine. Okay.” He had control, he could hold in his short temper at a simple request. There was nothing to be angry about. It was a valid fear. He produced fire, so people had a right to be scared for their plants, no matter his level of control. It was fine.
He took a deep breath.
Zedaph cut in and spared Tango from more of this stilted conversation.
“We’ll see you around later, Scott!” He grinned. Tango didn’t know how Zedaph always managed to be grinning. “Still on for the banquet?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Scott grumbled, wiping some dirt off his sleeve. “I’m gathering all your stupid greens, you furry mammal. You’d better appreciate it.”
“Most mammals are furry! That’s not an insult! Thank you for your contribution to our town, Scott!” Zedaph kept grinning, his tone unwavering. Wow Tango wished he had the same emotional control as Zedaph did. What was his willpower made of, bedrock?
“Just get out of my garden,” Scott muttered, bending back down to continue picking rosemary.
Zedaph did, pulling Tango along across a back path that looped wildly around the overflowing herb garden, going this way and that, completely obscuring his vision with leafy shrubs until it suddenly opened up onto a path absolutely drowning in flowers, everywhere his eye could see.
“Woah,” he breathed.
“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” The smile Zedaph gave him was much softer, the flowers seeming to calm him through sheer proximity. Yellow roses were hidden in his blond hair, just barely visible by their rustling as he moved. “Katherine takes care of them, mostly, but this is my Place. It’s special.”
Looking around at the forest of flowers, some growing taller than Tango himself, he could definitely see why. It was beautiful, like most things he’d seen while in Sanctuary, but it had a distinct feeling to it. The wind rustling through the leaves seemed to whisper unintelligible words into Tango’s ears, and the flowers smelled of protection and fierceness.
As Tango went to move forwards, Zedaph yanked him back with a sharp shake of his head. He inclined his head towards an odd patch of moss in the middle of the path and gestured for Tango to stay still.
Zedaph trotted towards the moss and paused, seemingly taking it in. Then, he kicked it lightly.
The moss shifted .
Tango watched in amazement as it rose up, faster than lightning, to reveal… a man? A man wearing a large cloak made of moss, and with a distinct quality to his brownish face that screamed otherworldly, who looked so ticked off for being kicked that Tango had to put all his willpower into keeping his composure.
“HEY!” The moss man yelled, glaring up at Zedaph. “I was sleeping!”
“On the path. Again , Bdubs.” Zedaph deadpanned.
“What right do you have to tell me where I can and can’t sleep?” Bdubs crossed his arms and turned his nose up.
Zedaph just gestured around at the mass of flowers and bushes all around them. “This is literally my forest. I think I have a little right to tell you not to sleep on the path.”
“Fine then! I won’t!” Bdubs turned on his heel and walked off the path, plopping down heavily onto a bush and curling up there. He was snoring within seconds.
Zedaph sighed. “He’s gonna be there until morning. Come on, it’s getting late, if the Bdubs clock is anything to go by.”
Tango was left to be confused and a little amused by the interaction, staring at the moss now laying on top of a bush sprouting with white camellias.[6]
They wandered deeper into the flower forest, Zedaph leading on while Tango trailed behind, lost in thought as he examined the diverse range of blooms.
The flower forest seemed to go on for ages, every path seemingly endless and every turn being more confusing than the next. It was only Zedaph’s confident and insistent guidance that managed to get Tango out of there, keeping him on the correct course until the light at the end of the tunnel was just within reach.
The path opened up into a brilliant spill of brightly coloured geraniums and sunflowers. The shaded overhang fell away to the orange sky, turning purple with the traces of night and filled with fluffy pink clouds.
Zedaph didn’t stop their journey, instead pulling Tango further, along the path back towards the town visible in the distance.
“The sun’s already setting,” he said. “You’ll love it here when it’s dark, but we should probably get you a place to stay. What’s your opinion on inns?”
“Do people usually have opinions on inns?” The path was made up of loose gravel here and most of Tango’s focus was being used to grip it well enough not to slip. Zedaph’s hooves didn’t seem to have this problem.
“You’d be surprised by the opinions people have on very random things. I’ve found it better to ask before they come to light.”
“Uh. I’m alright with inns.”
The path shifted into cobblestones as they entered the town proper. People passed by them without a second thought, though Tango did notice some curious looks being thrown at him.
“Great! We’ve got a good one just down this way. You can stay there until we get you a proper house.”
Tango saw the inn as they turned the corner. It was an imposing building, standing tall and dark as sunlight faded from the streets, but it didn’t give off any sort of frightening feeling. In fact, it was the opposite. The softly glowing windows invited people in, and the door stood wide open, swaying in the breeze like a friendly wave, beckoning him into its warmth and comfort. He started towards it, not following Zedaph for the first time in the day.
Inside was as he expected from the outside; a gentle clutter of warm wooden furniture scattered about, a bar along one end, and a fireplace heating up the room from the corner. The controlled inferno subtly leaned towards Tango when he entered, and he could feel its pull. Its siren's song calling him towards it. He resisted its temptation for now. That could come later.
While he was distracted listening to the passionate melody of the fire, Zedaph had flagged down the barkeep, who was now standing in front of them with a wide grin.
“Zedaph! My man! How’s it going? I haven’t seen you around here in ages! And who’s this?” For the second time that day, a random man had his face way too close to Tango’s.
“Oh, lay off him, Sausage! He’s new,” Zedaph mock-whispered the last part with a teasing grin in Tango’s direction, to which Tango just glared.
Sausage bounced up and down with a wide smile. “A new person! Welcome to Sanctuary! I’m Sausage. Technically I’m the leader around here. And the innkeeper. And the builder. And the lumberjack. And a few more, but don’t you worry about it.”
“That’s a lot of jobs,” Tango said. It was also a pretty odd mixed bag, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. “I’m Tango, of the Tek variety.”
“Tango! Nice to meet you, Tango. Are you looking for a place to stay? ‘Cuz I’ve got some fabulous rooms up here! Come, come!” Sausage grabbed his hand and started tugging him towards the stairs on the right— twisting, well-trodden steps of wood with a rickety handrail. He stumbled up, trying his best to keep his footing, and somewhat succeeded as he got yanked up onto the landing.
Doors passed by him on one side of the hall, the other overlooking the tavern underneath. Sausage seemed to know what he was doing and continued to pull Tango along, right around a bend and to the third door down, pushing it right open.
The room it opened up to was plain for the most part. A bed was pushed up against one wall, and a gently simmering fire was sitting in a fireplace on the other. There was a dresser next to the bed, and the back wall that had a large window with moonflower[7] climbing up, bordering the edges, overlooked the street on the other side of the inn, where Tango could see a large, blue building that might’ve been a tailor. That might be useful in the future, considering his worn out pants and shirt. And the fact that he didn’t have any other clothes.
Sausage clapped him on the back, startling him out of his thoughts. “This room’s specifically made for fire elementals. It’s fireproof and everything! Isn’t that so cool? I’ll leave you to get settled in now. Shout if you need anything!”
He retreated back the way he came, humming a joyful tune as he went. Tango was left in the doorway, staring blankly around as his mind was filled with the fire’s melody. He was only minimally aware of Zedaph’s presence until he spoke.
“You doing alright, Tango?”
There was genuine concern in his voice, and Tango wasn’t sure what to do with it. He pushed himself out of the doorway and stumbled towards the fire, sinking down in front of it, close enough to scorch anyone else.
“I’m— Yeah, I’m alright. It’s just been—” He chuckled dryly. “It’s been a long day.”
Zedaph followed him inside, plopping down on the plush rug opposite him. “I’ll bet. I’ve just been pulling you around all day.”
Silence rose around them, disturbed only by the wind howling outside and the crackling of the fire.
Zedaph took in a breath before shifting, standing up carefully. “You should get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe get you some new clothes. How does that sound?”
Tango managed a weak thumbs-up and a grimace.
“Great! I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Tango!”
With a cheerful wave, Zedaph bounced away, shutting the door behind him, and Tango was left alone for the first time in a day.
His thoughts started picking up then. His fears and worries coming back up to the forefront of his mind, taking over his vision in a flurry of emotion. But he was calmed by the flames behind him, reaching up to caress him and hold him safe, soothing him with a crooning it’s alright it’s alright it’s alright .
Before long, he was falling backwards into the open flame, curling up tight and letting its loving warmth envelop him as he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
---------------------------------
The next morning, Tango woke up content.
After forcing himself out of the fire, he took stock of his condition and realised he felt… well rested. Good.
That was new.
He stretched out his limbs and ran his hand through his hair, dusted off his clothes as best as he could and got ready to start his day. He hesitated a bit at the doorknob, but eventually made it out of his room and down the stairs into the tavern.
Sausage was at the bar, bustling around with skillets and plates and cups, while a child with blond hair and a purple poncho sat on a stool, kicking his legs.
“Tango!” Sausage called, waving him over. “Good morning! Come, come. This is Hermes, my pride and joy.” He gestured at the kid with a proud smile. “Hermes, this is Tango.”
Hermes looked up at Tango shyly, a small smile on his face. His eyes were purple.
“Hi,” Tango said.
Sausage had turned back to the pans on the stove, flipping things over and mixing things around, “How was your night? I hope you liked the room— we’ve never actually had a fire elemental come through here, so you’ll have to tell me how it was. Don’t want to run into any fiery issues, am I right?” He gave Tango a wide grin over his shoulder as something sizzled.
“It was—” the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months or maybe years “—good. The room’s good. Thanks.”
“No problemo! It’s my job, after all. And there weren’t any late night disturbances?”
“Uh, no? Should there have been?”
Sausage just grinned at him again. “Don’t worry about it! Here you go!”
He slid a plate across the table towards Tango, distracting him from his thoughts about how many things he’d been told not to worry about since getting here. Immediately, Tango’s hunger caught up to him and his stomach growled fiercely. Hermes gave him a knowing look, which made Tango look away.
It was a dish of perfectly fried scrambled eggs, with some tomato and greens on top, and a side of golden-brown flat bread. It smelled so good that Tango could feel his eyes dilating and his mouth watering. He barely even noticed Sausage slide a second, smaller plate over to Hermes before he was digging in.
He was done within minutes, plate emptied and pulled away by Sausage to be deposited into the sink. Casual conversation filled the room, Sausage yammering away about whatever and Tango adding in sometimes. Tango tried to bring up the idea of payment, but Sausage wouldn’t even let him get two words on before rejecting the idea, telling him it didn’t matter. He didn’t get the opportunity to fight back either, as Zedaph came in to take Tango, beckoning him out of the inn and out into the streets for another day of activity.
As Tango took in the calm morning streets, the sun’s glare just a tad too bright in his eyes, Zedaph explained where they were going.
“Cleo and Joe’s clothing stop should be just around here. We’ll get you some basics for now, then you can come back later for anything else you need.”
They turned the corner and the light blue tailors’ that he noticed from his window came into view. In the morning light, he could now see the life-like dummies at the windows, posed to show off the clothes they were wearing, complete with wigs and painted faces. If not for the separation of the joints, Tango wasn’t sure he’d be able to differentiate between them and a real person.
Zedaph pushed open the door, which opened with a little jingle from a bell.
A plain-looking man in a blue shirt popped out from behind a clothing rack, a pleasant smile on his face. “Welcome to Joe Hills’ Clothing Emporium, how can I help you today?”
“Hey! Stop leaving me out of the marketing!” Called someone from across the shop. Tango saw a shock of red hair and greenish zombie skin just over the clutter. Boxes of fabric, spare dummy parts, and clothing racks covered most of the store, and the aisles were so narrow Tango was sure he would graze both ends walking through.
“I’m not leaving you out of the marketing, I’m just saying that it’s my clothes store, and you’re a freeloader.” The man— Joe Hills—didn’t lose the smile once, or look away from him and Zedaph.
The zombie popped out from between a stack of folded fabric and an assortment of armour on clothing hangers with a glare on her face. “I make all these displays for you and bring in customers with my incredible advertising, and this is the thanks I get?”
“We’ve discussed this before, Cleo, you still don’t pay rent.”
“Neither do you! This is a free land!”
“You could at least make dinner every once in a while.”
“Neither of us eat!”
“Now that’s just not true—”
Tango was honestly lost as the argument pinged back and forth, but Zedaph just snickered and motioned for Tango to follow him deeper. The sounds of arguing faded as they sunk into the ocean of clothes, the muffling effect muting all sounds outside their little bubble.
“They’re always like that,” Zedaph said, “It’s all jokes. Neither of them are actually mad at each other.”
“Oh.”
“Give them some time and they’ll get it out of their systems. See anything you like?”
Tango glanced around at the racks nearest. “Uh. That.” He pointed at a pair of red cargo pants that were half hanging off a shelf. Zedaph masterfully manoeuvred it out from under the pile and dropped it in his arms.
“Great! Anything else?”
It went like that for half an hour, Zedaph prompting him to find stuff and Tango pointing out the least terrible option. They ended up with both their arms piled high with various pieces of clothing, navigating towards the sound of loud laughter and teasing banter to get back to the exit.
Joe found them eventually, and helped them fit everything into two large bags, which Tango and Zedaph split between them. Again, no one expected payment, and they just walked right out into the cool morning. The sun had risen slightly higher in the time they were deep in the trenches of fabric, and the rays scattered over the pavement as people on ladders hung up decorations.
“Is there some sort of event happening?”
Zedaph followed his gaze to the lines of paper now criss-crossing the alleys. “Oh! Yeah— the annual banquet is happening this evening. They’re putting up the decorations. By mid-morning all the games will be starting, then the actual food is put out just before sundown.”
“Will I— will we be going?” He kept his gaze straight ahead, following the curving line of the street.
“Of course! Best way to meet everyone all at once! I’ll show you around after we visit Pearl’s Trash Shop.”
“Trash Shop?”
“Well, it’s more like a second hand shop, but she calls it a trash shop so we all listen to her.”
The streets were bustling now as they moved deeper into the town; people had started to come out of their houses, setting up market stalls and putting up more decorations. Zedaph moved through the crowds expertly, dodging and weaving like he’d been doing it his whole life. Tango didn’t have as much luck. He bumped into at least five people in a four foot stretch, and almost trampled a child. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before they were standing in front of a tall building, with a sign on the front proclaiming it to be Twinkly Trash .
Tango was a bit nervous to go in, as Zedaph was hanging back a little and gesturing for him to go in first with a creepy grin, but he swallowed down his nerves and pushed the door open.
Immediately, he heard the sound of a mechanism clicking and jumped to attention, ready to run. A light, green gas seeped out from either side of the door and brought with it a terrible smell.
“P.U!” A woman in green overalls emerged from within the store, holding her nose and fanning her hand in front of her face. “Who’s stinking up the place? Is it you, mister?”
Tango bristled. “No! It was that— machine! I didn’t—”
“Just what a guilty person would say!” She cut in with a little glare before she perked up, a few giggles slipping out as she pressed a button on the counter that caused fans to whir, dispersing the gas. “I’m just messing with ‘ya! Cleaner Lady Pearl, at your service. And who might you be?”
“Tango, of the Tek variety,” He answered, much smoother than he did the previous day. That was an improvement, at least.
“What business do you have with Twinkly Trash, Tango? Might I offer you our Cleaning Lady Service? Or just some browsing and shopping?”
Tango wasn’t really sure what he wanted here, so it was a good thing Zedaph took that moment to stick his head in and strike up a chat.
Pearl and Zedaph must have exchanged pleasantries or something, but Tango couldn’t say he was paying attention. He moved away from the front of the shop and towards some of the shelves, scanning through their organised mess. They were piled high with everything under the sun— shelves of uniquely coloured seashells next to decorative drinking glasses and frayed woven bracelets.
He was inspecting a shelf of rocks shaped like trees when something caught his eyes. On the next shelf over were a pair of goggles, red lenses with silver accents, and a black leather strap. The lenses seemed to almost glow in the warm lighting of the shop, and the silver gleamed like it was brand new. He tentatively picked it up, cradling it in his hands.
“How much for this?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of it.
The conversation at the front of the store paused, and he heard footsteps come closer.
“Well, we’ve got a sort of barter system over here,” Pearl said, standing just in front of him. “Pay whatever you think it’s worth.”
He didn’t think anything would be worth the goggles, but he patted down his pockets anyways, searching for practically anything he might have left in there. It was in the fourth pocket he checked that he found luck in the form of an old pair of light leather gloves that he outgrew ages ago.
“How about these?”
“Perfect.” Pearl snatched them up and gave him a bright grin, bounding deeper into the shop with the gloves in hand, placing them down randomly then seeming unsatisfied with their position and picking them back up.
Zedaph suddenly appeared at his side. “Best to let her do her thing. We should go. I want to meet up with someone before we go to the banquet celebrations.”
“Alright.” Tango nodded and slipped the goggles around his head, placing them firmly over his eyes. They tinted the world in a comforting red shade, and reduced the glare the bright sun was causing. He loved them.
They plunged back into the streets, going away from Pearl’s shop and in the opposite direction of the inn and herb garden from the previous day, closer to where the medical building Tango woke up in was. Zedaph wouldn’t tell him where they were going, only that Tango would like his friend, and that he might be hard to find.
Deeper within the town, where the buildings got taller and the plant life fuller, the chaos of the outer areas settled into the more orderly festival chaos. Stalls were set up here and there, boasting displays of golden pastries and hand woven blankets, and many prizes to win in throw-the-ball-at-the-bottles games and more. Adults walked hand in hand between the rose bushes and children fought over their prizes and teenagers wove through the crowds with jokes on their tongues and laughter in their lungs.
And, within it all, was the unmistakable look, sound, feeling, of the magical and unknown. It was unlike anything Tango had ever seen before, present everywhere he looked. A vendor using magic to levitate their goods, or a merfolk splashing their friends with water from the river, or a fairy fluttering just over the ground without a second thought, no fear or paranoia anywhere, just unbridled magic in its natural state.
It was incredible.
As Tango looked on, wide eyed at all the colours and lights around him, Zedaph had continued to lead him further into the festivities. Slowly, they got closer to where it seemed the most people were condensed, and Zedaph was on higher alert, holding onto Tango’s shoulder to lift himself above the crowds, just a little.
Eventually, Zedaph must have spotted something, because he perked up and grabbed Tango’s hand, pulling him towards the edge of the square they’d ended up in.
“Impulse!” Zedaph called.
A large, towering man with a thin tail poking out the back of his shirt came into view, turning to reveal a friendly smile on his face and stubby horns—orangish-red, unlike Zedaph’s brown—on top of his head.
“Hey, Zed,” The man—Impulse, probably—said. He looked over at Tango, familiarity lighting up his features. “You’re the guy from the forest, right? How’re you doing?”
“Impulse is the one who found you out there,” Zedaph told him, an arm now slung over Impulse’s shoulder. The height difference meant that Impulse was mostly crouched down.
That’s why his eyes seemed familiar. Tango could barely recall those wisps of memory in the back of his mind, but he did vaguely know that it must have been Impulse who stopped him, right before he passed out.
“I’m doing alright,” He said with a nod. “I’m Tango, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you properly, Tango. Has Zedaph been treating you well?” Impulse leaned in and whispered loudly, “He gets pushy sometimes.”
“Hey!” Zedaph said loudly, shoving at Impulse. “I am a delight!”
Tango grinned, settling into the conversation a little more. “I dunno man, you were dragging me about all day.”
“I was showing you around!” Zedaph argued with an exaggerated look of indignation.
Impulse laughed, head thrown back and loud. “I bet he forgot to feed you, too, huh? Terrible tour guide. C’mon Tango, let’s get you something to eat.”
Now that he mentioned it, Tango noticed the panging in his stomach and the dryness of his mouth. He didn’t argue as he walked side by side with Impulse and Zedaph, passing by stalls on one side and crowds on the other.
It surprised him how much Impulse was encouraging him to voice what he wanted, a silent question in his eyes when they passed a stall and Tango’s eyes lingered. Zedaph had done similar at the clothing store, but he was louder, poking and prodding to get Tango to open up. They were two sides of the same coin, in that way.
Tango ended up with a small container of spicy nuts and some sort of roasted corn that Zedaph swore was incredibly delicious. He let the spice rest in his mouth as he walked with Impulse and Zedaph, eyes bouncing from one thing to another and conversation flowing around them.
Eventually, the banquet itself started, and Tango was pulled towards a long, ornate series of tables piled high with every food imaginable. Familiar faces from the past two days were scattered along them, and Tango was placed somewhere in the middle, Zedaph and Impulse bracketing him on either side.
He saw Joe Hills and Cleo somewhere down to the right, Cleo laughing heartily while Joe just looked pleased. Pearl was to Impulse’s left, followed by Grian, Scar, and a tall man with a moustache. Sausage was a bit further down, his laughter drifting down the table towards Tango, and he saw flashes of purple that he thought was Hermes dashing about. He saw Bdubs from the forest animatedly having a conversation with a big-eyed man, and Scott from the garden was looking amusedly at two fish people, one blue and one brown, and a little man. As far as Tango could see, more and more people filled the seats in all sorts of colourful styles and appearances.
Tango relished in the joyful atmosphere, starting up a conversation with the person in front of him, who introduced himself as Ren with a toothy grin, with frequent interruptions by the man on Ren’s right, Martyn.
As the day wore on and sunset drew close, fires were lit in lamps, and Tango sunk deeper into the calm he had been so deprived of for so long. At that moment, surrounded by people he had come to know as almost friends, and people he’d like to be friends with, and the fire singing along to the band playing in the distance, he couldn’t think of any place he would rather be.