Lukas stood outside his door for a few long seconds to listen to crackling details of the surrounding foliage. They were mostly sounds of insects and wind. How bittersweet to know he had his whole life to appreciate it all, but never did until this moment.
Empty-minded, he began droning away until he saw the road that would guide him. To get to the barge that would take him to Sottofiamma, what they calling the new ‘arts capital’ of the world, he only needed to cross the small market. It was famously called the ‘Reaper Market’ because no matter where you went or came, you would always somehow be intercepted by it. Reference to the unavoidable meeting with the Grim Reaper.
He had just been there a few days ago to cut his dark nape-long hair into the split medium cut he had now. Short sides and a separating bangs at ear’s length. One of the many haircuts Lukas has had over time. He decided to stick to the very edge of the market as to avoid as many people as possible, keeping his eyes hanging over the dirt. His mind could not process anything or anyone properly. It was too clouded by the anxiety of inevitable change, along with the flash memory of his grandmother’s degrading death.
Then, on his path, he saw a white and brown stained stump that appeared to be a bone sat on the dirt. He stopped to look at it, and although he couldn’t tell which bone it was, the spongey pores made him sure it was one. He looked towards his side inspecting for what could’ve left a bone in the middle of a path. He saw monks, merchants, commoners, and nobles accompanied by servants, walking and tantalizing the place. Out of everything, there was not even a single butcher or animal-related station.
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“A bone…why is there a bone?” he thought confused and a little irritated.
“You!” someone shouted.
Lukas turned back to his right and saw a silk merchant in his tent, full of dark colored drapes.
“Come touch this cloth! If it isn’t the finest, softest material you’ve ever touched I’ll give you half the price!”
The merchant reminded Lukas of exactly what he was trying to avoid, and decided to ignore the man and kept walking. Even as he did, his face expelled low-lipped smile out of politeness. He thought of looking back to see if the merchant was offended, but his attention was yet again stolen by another loud voice, this time not directed at him.
“You don’t even see us as humans, do you?! You walk right over us like we’re in the way!” A merchant was yelling at a noblewoman who was wearing a strong emerald green dress and a headpiece of dark feathered wings flowing down her cheeks. She was walking away, barely acknowledging the heckle. It appeared she had also ignored the seller just like Lukas.
“But he doesn’t see her as human either,” Lukas thought. “They only call out for coin. If he didn’t have something to sell, he would treat her just as indifferently. And why should I have to give my attention to whoever wants it?” Lukas made himself even more irritated with these thoughts and paced faster through the dirt and through the market. Over to his horizon, he saw the tall structures and triangular faces of the roofs that were so common in his home city. Earth-colored buildings standing in front of a blue sky with plump clouds that traveled at the speed of a caress. This was the last image of his home he would ever see. It was such a shame he had to be in a bad mood for it.
