#erray

He had never been sure what exactly he was, but it was not merfolk. They both lived underwater – and that’s where the similarities ended. The merfolk had tails, but looked mostly human otherwise. He had legs and was completely covered in scales, with fins on his arms, legs and down his back. His gills were located on his flanks, while the merfolk breathed through gills on their neck. They could shapeshift, appearing almost human, he could not. In shape, he could pass for human – as long as they didn’t get a look at his face, his skin, or basically any part of him.

For this reason he had brought a disguise, one he’d scavenged together himself. The boots were way too big, but together with the long, hooded raincoat and rain pants they managed to cover up most of him. He swam to shore on the opposite end from where the merfolk party had landed, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to visit town at the same time as them, as this was an added risk, but he also found some form of reassurance in the thought that he wasn’t alone.

He wrung the water out of his clothes as well as he could and laid them on the rocks to dry a little. The seal-skin pants he had already been wearing wouldn’t take long to dry considering their material, so he kept those on as he sat down on the rock. Erray knew it would take the traders some time to transform and get ready, so he would have a moment. He did not have much in the way of a plan, but finding out their contact’s identity was one thing he had decided on. This would require following them, and from his position he had a clear view of the beach they would be crossing as soon as they were ready.

His drying efforts soon turned out to have been for nothing, as a soft drizzle started to rain down. He decided to just put on his clothes now, struggling with the wet shirt that clung to him at all sides. He usually didn’t bother with them, finding them too constricting to his fins and gills. Besides, it wasn’t like he needed them for the cold. Like the merfolk, his body was adapted to handle the cold and pressure of the ocean. Another thing they had in common, he supposed.

His mother – or adoptive mother, he should say – had told him she’d found him one day, scared and alone, and had taken him home. Afterwards, they’d looked, but there had been no trace of his family, or any hint as to where he’d come from. He only had vague memories of those early days with the school, and mostly recalled being scared and confused, not being able to understand these strange creatures he had ended up with. From the time before there were only snippets, glimpses at another life that occasionally came to him right before he fell asleep; a face similar to his own, a smile, a touch. Being carried by someone swimming, the light playing on the water’s surface above. It wasn’t enough to go on.

When he saw movement across the bay he pushed himself off the rock, his boots making a squelching sound as he landed. They continued to make noise with every step he took, but there was nothing to be done about it now, they wouldn’t get any dryer. At least his feet wouldn’t dry out, he thought to himself. The group of merfolk made their way to the docks and from there moved into the town itself. Erray saw that they blended in pretty well with the fishermen, two of them wearing thick, woollen coats with the collars turned up, the other a knitted sweater topped with a scarf to hide their gills. They wore boots similar to Erray’s. Their clothes had been laid out earlier in preparation, so they were mostly dry.

He followed them at a distance, making sure to hide himself in his coat, his shoulders pulled up, his head down. The people he passed on the street, on their way to or the docks or the small café he’d passed on the corner, seemed to pay him no mind as he weaved his way through. The weather was bad: he saw many people behaving the exact same way he did, not giving their fellow townspeople as much as a glance while they hurried along.

The town seemed quaint, as if it would once have been featured on a postcard, with its wooden buildings, painted predominantly white, with blue shutters and doors. Nowadays most of the town seemed to be in some state of disrepair: paint flaked off of buildings, showing rotten wood underneath; warehouses along the docks were speckled with rust, some of them looking like they hadn’t seen business in some time. Erray couldn’t help but notice the smell of rotten fish permeating every inch of the town, mixed with some industrial-type smell – tar, perhaps? Gasoline? He couldn’t say for sure, not being very familiar with them. On his way in, he had noticed the water in the harbour was looking filthy, and he was glad he had come ashore a little further out.

Waiting for the merfolk to turn a corner, he took a moment to rest, pretending to study a shop window. It displayed several kinds of fish, lying on ice, their bulbous eyes staring at him. Erray couldn’t help but think they were both terribly out of place. Even though he’d done it before, being on land was challenging for him. Everything cost more effort, like extra weight had been added to his limbs, pulling him down with every step. Under water he was nearly weightless, the entire depth of the ocean his to traverse as he pleased. Here he was confined to the ground, the sky above him vast and inaccessible. It made the world appear simultaneously smaller and larger to him. Brighter, too. The light here was unfiltered, casting shadows with sharp-edged outlines. But today the rainy weather tempered this effect somewhat, shrouding everything in a mottled grey.

He continued his way, slipping around the corner just in time to see his companions enter a door on the right. He waited a moment, then sauntered his way over, glancing into the window from across the street. Rosalind’s Tea and Spices, it read on the glass, in neat, swirly letters. The building appeared to be some kind of store, a counter taking up most of the space in the small room. Shelves lined the back wall, filled with containers and jars of all kinds. They were the only people inside, until a woman with dark hair tied up in a bun appeared from a door to the back room, which showed more shelves behind, mostly hidden from customers’ view. She was short, her head only just sticking out above the counter, until she hopped up onto a platform behind it as she greeted her customers. She was wearing a green, oversized sweater, which made her appear even smaller than she was. This must be Rosalind, Erray assumed.

As if she had detected the mere thought of her name, her gaze scanned past the boys towards the street, meeting his. He averted his eyes, pretending to glance at an imaginary watch, then looked up and down the street as if waiting for someone, before moving on, pulling his hood further over his face. He couldn’t let the others see him, not now. Passing by them in the crowd might have escaped their scrutiny, but standing here all by himself, acting suspiciously? Surely they would recognise him despite his disguise.

He continued to move down the street, eyeing the stores left and right but not daring to stop and take a glance through the windows. Some of them showed colourful displays, others had this week’s deals written on the glass in big white letters. At a crossroads he spotted a phone booth, a woman inside it talking rapidly while making hand gestures her conversation partner wouldn’t be able to see. Erray sat down on a bench along a stretch of greenery that bordered the road. He had to pause for a moment and catch his breath, but from this position he could also observe the phone. He knew humans used it to communicate across distances, but he didn’t understand how they worked. Technology might as well be magic, as little as he understood of it. And what use would it even be to him? Most of this stuff didn’t work under water anyway.

He wiggled his toes in his boots. He preferred not to wear them, to be able to feel his feet making contact with the ground. It was the way he had learned to walk, together with the merfolk of his age: out in the field, being able to feel the grass between his toes. They had been under close watch, and far removed from any human presence, but Erray had enjoyed every second of these moments, like he was threading on forbidden ground. Not needing to transform, he had been ready to explore the dry land way before his peers, and had begged his mother and other merfolk to let him come along whenever they went, but they had decided it was too dangerous for him to accompany them. That hadn’t stopped him from slipping away during unsupervised moments and make his way over to the coast, eager to learn its secrets.

He had soon learned the coast to be unforgiving, the current throwing him onto the rocks, then dragging him under again. He had returned home covered in cuts and bruises, finding his mother to be just as unforgiving. But the land had kept on calling him, and he had kept on sneaking away, dragging himself onto the sand while they thought he was out playing with the other kids. It wasn’t hard: the kids barely paid him any mind, except to occasionally call him a freak, or whatever other names they had recently come up with. He had never understood their reasoning – did they think he didn’t know he was different? That he didn’t wonder about his origins every day? He surely didn’t need to be reminded of it.

In most cases, he knew the distrust originated with their parents warning their children to stay away from the strange boy. They never said it to him or his mother, but he was well aware of their sideways glances. Once he had overheard them referring to him as “Sidahn’s charity project”, claiming that one day her kindness would turn out to bring nothing but trouble. He had wanted to say something that proved them wrong, but hadn’t dared to. Sure, the merfolk had always tried to protect him, to shield him from the world, but apart from his mother he’d never gotten the feeling it had been for his own safety. They wanted to see him gone, and he knew it. There was just no place for him to go without the risk of discovery – and with that, possibly the merfolk’s own discovery would follow. So, they tolerated him. For now.

He watched the woman leave the phone booth and go about her daily business. He didn’t know much about humans, but from what he could tell their lives were so much different than what he was used to. He sometimes marvelled at the things they had achieved, had invented. He wanted to experience those things for himself, but knew this would be difficult, and more importantly, dangerous. Humans did not react kindly to things they didn’t understand – the merfolk included. This is why they had remained secret, but they weren’t completely alone in this.

They had their contacts on the land, some third party offering protection and trade. They had been the ones to make sure their home couldn’t be found by unsuspecting humans. When Erray had asked who exactly they were dealing with, the answers had remained vague: they were a group of people helping many different schools of merfolk and had been for as long as they could remember. There were legends, of course, involving Danala, the goddess of the ocean herself, and her chosen emissary, made immortal by her grace in order to protect her children. Erray wasn’t sure how much of this to believe – sure, the shield protecting them was powered by magic, and he had seen their sage perform magic on occasion, but to say those abilities were granted by some goddess? And if she was real, would she even care about him? He was not her child, after all.

When the rain started to fall down more heavily again, Erray continued walking, not wanting any strange looks cast his way for just sitting there getting drenched. He walked the same route back, casting a glance at Rosalind’s while he passed. The store appeared to be empty, the merfolk’s business must have concluded. Realising this meant he could go in and investigate further, he turned on his heels, immediately slamming into something solid. He tumbled backwards, landing rather ungracefully on the street. Two men were towering above him – they must have been walking right behind him.

“Watch where you’re–” one of them started, annoyance sounding through in his voice.

Then he fell silent.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, his eyes wide.

He nudged his friend, checking whether he was seeing the same thing. They cast a nervous glance at each other, then fixed their eyes on Erray again, who lifted a hand to feel for his hood and found nothing. He quickly pulled it back up, but it was too late. They had seen him.

He scrambled backwards, every instinct telling him to run, but the men were quickly recovered from the initial shock and confusion and moved in towards him.

“You’re not going anywhere, you little freak,” one of them grinned.

Erray tried to get up, cursing internally as he attempted to untangle himself from his coat. Moving on land was hard enough already without his clothes restricting his movement. One of the men roughly grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up, holding him there. The other moved in to yank back his hood once more.

“What do you think it is?” he asked, his face uncomfortably close to Erray.

The first man shrugged.

“Some kind of mutant? It’s the chemicals, I’m telling you.”

“You and your chemicals,” the other sighed. “He’s clearly an alien.”

“No, that makes sense!”

For a moment, Erray hoped they would be so busy arguing that he would have a chance to slip away, but the man was still holding his arm into a vice-like grip. Normally his scales would be quite slippery, but the coat was pretty easy to keep a grip on, and so Erray couldn’t manage to wriggle himself free.

“What’ll we do with him?” one of them asked, having grabbed his arm to take a look at his webbed fingers, plucking at the membrane between them with suspicion.

“You will do nothing.”

The voice sounded from behind them, and radiated authority. The men turned around, dragging Erray along, sending him stumbling in his large boots to stay upright. They still held him, but their grip seemed to have loosened somewhat.

“Says who?” one of the men sneered, looking down at the tiny figure in front of them.

“Me.”

Rosalind still wore the same oversized sweater, but her hair was down now, framing a face with blue eyes that seemed intent on killing a man if he wasn’t careful. She took a step forward, straightening her spine – although the extra inch did not matter much in comparison to Erray’s captors.

“You?”

The men exchanged a look, then showed a terrifying grin.

“And why should we give a rat’s arse about what you have to say?”

A little smile pulled at the corner of Rosalind’s mouth.

“You’ll find that I can be very convincing.”

“Are you now?”

The man’s grin broadened, his mind no doubt imagining how such a scenario would play out according to him.

“You will let him go.”

The men laughed at this, but to his surprise Erray felt the pressure on his arm disappear.

“Why don’t you go back to your tea?” they snickered. “Before someone gets hurt.”

Erray wasn’t going to wait for them to notice, took his chance and darted aside, slipping from their grasp. He hurried over towards Rosalind. It felt foolish to hide behind someone only half his size, but at least she seemed to be confident in the outcome.

Rosalind raised a bemused eyebrow at them.

“You boys seem to be listening just fine.”

The men cast a glance at each other, both assuming it was the other’s fault they were no longer holding Erray.

“What are you doing?!”

“Me?! You were hold–”

“Move along now,” Rosalind interrupted. “There’s nothing to see here.”

She indicated towards the end of the street with a slight nod.

Erray watched in amazement as the two men’s faces went slack, and without protest they turned around and started walking. Rosalind did not wait for them to turn the corner, instead gripping onto his arm with a force that made the men seem like small children in comparison. A small sound escaped his throat, somewhere between pain and protest, as she started dragging him inside.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she whispered furiously, flipping the little sign on the door over to “closed”.

Then she started locking the door and closing the blinds, not wanting anyone to be able to see inside.

“I…” was all Erray managed to utter, his head too full of questions.

Who exactly was this woman? Did she know who he was? They’d never met, but he supposed one of the merfolk could have told her about him. And what the hell had just happened?

Sensing his confusion, she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Did you come through the portal?”

“Portal?”

His mind was racing. Did she mean the bay entrance? It was narrow, but to call it a portal? Perhaps she simply meant the door. He had noticed the humans’ language being slightly different from theirs, and so he didn’t always understand their expressions.

“Uhh, I haven’t been here before,” he tried.

“That much is obvious.”

Her piercing eyes examined his face closely, causing him to look away uncomfortably. Erray realised he was terrified of her, although he couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I’m with the merfolk who were in earlier,” he offered, desperately trying to give an answer that would appease her.

“So you arrived through the bay,” she concluded.

“Yes,” he nodded, glad to know the answer for once.

“Who authorised you to come here?”

Erray stared at his toes.

“No one. I‘m supposed to stay with the school.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“I just wanted to see what a human town was like,” Erray mumbled.

It sounded foolish now that he’d said it out loud. He’d almost gotten caught, and for what? Curiosity? Boredom?

“What’s your name?”

He looked back up at her. To his surprise, her eyes had softened a little.

“Erray.”

“You can call me Rosalind. How long have you been staying with the merfolk, Erray?”

“I- I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Give me an estimate.”

“My whole life,” he shrugged. “Minus a few years, but I suppose those don’t really count, since I barely rememb–”

His voice trailed off when Rosalind raised a hand to silence him. He noticed her hawk-like stare had returned, but this time it was less distrusting and more… something else.

“Is there anyone else like you living with the school?” she asked.

Erray shook his head, looking at his boots, the floor, the shelves along the wall – anywhere but Rosalind’s piercing gaze.

“I’m the only one. No one even knows where I came from, or who…” he hesitated. “-what I am.”

A surprised gasp escaped Rosalind’s mouth. Her eyes seemed to have grown to twice their size, like she couldn’t believe what he was saying. She whispered something under her breath, putting a hand on the counter to support herself.

“What?”

“En irachan,” she repeated. “It means abandoned one in Issadic.”

Abandoned one. Erray did not like the sound of that.

“I- I don’t understand.”

Rosalind recollected herself, taking a step toward him.

“It’s what we call people who don’t know who they are. People like you.”

She gently took his hand.

“Come, I believe it’s time for some tea.”

Erray let her pull him along as he considered her words. Abandoned one. It was true he didn’t know where he’d come from – but did that mean he’d been abandoned? He recalled the memories from the back of his mind, those little flashes of a life unknown to him. Sidahn had always told him it had been an accident, that the storm had separated him from his old life, and he had believed her. But she couldn’t know if that was the truth. What if she was wrong? What if they had abandoned him?

He only vaguely registered being brought towards the back of the shop, past the rows of shelves he had caught a glimpse of earlier today, into what must be where Rosalind lived. He was set down on a chair, while she moved towards the stove to put the kettle on. Erray absentmindedly tugged on the sleeves of his coat, trying to wriggle it off. On the second try he managed, and the coat slumped to the floor, into the puddle that was already forming there. He moved on to the shirt, which proved to be more difficult, the wet fabric clinging to his gills. He was glad he didn’t have to use them up here, or he surely would have choked. He guided the fabric past his fins, careful not to tear their fragile membrane, then threw it onto the pile with a wet flop.

He was still going over the memories, hoping this different perspective would help him unlock something new, when a steaming mug was placed in front of him.

“Usually this is where I’d offer someone dry clothes, but I’m not sure you’d appreciate it,” Rosalind smiled, taking a seat across from him.

“I’m good,” he responded.

The disgust must have been clearly visible on his face, since Rosalind laughed – a warm, genuine laugh this time.

Only then he realised he was sitting half-naked in a strange lady’s kitchen. He might not know much about human customs, but he was sure that was not a thing they did often. Suddenly feeling very awkward, he picked up the mug, which felt hot in his hands.

“Milk and sugar?” Rosalind asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had tea before,” Erray confessed, sniffing the mug’s contents, which smelled faintly of herbs.

“Boiling water would be a challenge down there,” Rosalind nodded with a smile.

“The sage does it sometimes, for potions – when she’s on the land, I mean,” he clarified.

He looked at the brownish liquid with suspicion, sloshing it around.

“Is this a potion?”

“Not exactly, but it will make you feel better, hopefully.”

Erray wasn’t sure how a cup of hot leaf water would help with that, but he wasn’t going to object.

“Why did you say I was abandoned?” he asked, still looking into his cup. “What does that mean?”

“Abandoned one is an expression used by my people to signify those who don’t have ties to our community, our world. Because of this they might not understand why they are the way they are, and become scared and confused as a result – it doesn’t necessarily mean your family abandoned you,” she reassured him. “Sometimes people get separated, it can have many reasons.”

“We’ve looked for them,” Erray said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “When they’d just found me the merfolk searched all over, but they found nothing.”

“They might not have been looking in the right place,” Rosalind suggested.

“They searched the ocean for miles in every direction. There was no land anywhere near.”

Erray put his mug back on the table, as holding it was getting a little too hot to his liking.

“We were with a different school, then,” he explained. “We moved here when I was older.”

“There are more places to search than just the ocean you’re familiar with,” Rosalind claimed.

Erray wasn’t sure he followed. He knew the ocean pretty well, and there was no one else living there from here to Ireland.

“What do you know about demons?” Rosalind asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“Demons?”

Erray wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

“They’re… a story the merfolk tell their children. They’re said to lurk in the deepest depths of the ocean, deeper than the merfolk can swim. If you venture too deep, they will get you – but I don’t believe in any of that.”

Despite his claims, a shiver still went down his spine when he remembered the stories told when he was a child. Rosalind, on the other hand, seemed merely amused.

“Interesting.”

She paused to take a sip of tea, then leaned forwards, her elbows resting on the table.

“The humans have their own version of those stories,” she explained. “Usually they’re tied to their religions. If you’re a bad person and stray from your faith, you’ll likely be sent to the demons as a punishment. When you die, you’ll go to Hell, where they live. They are often described as cruel monsters.”

Erray vaguely recalled hearing something like this before, but the merfolk didn’t really bother with the religions of the land. They were only interested in human knowledge when it helped them to remain hidden from humans.

“Now this, like most legends, consists of both lies and truth. Demons aren’t monsters, they’re simply from another world, which is called Kellan. It can be a scary place, but it is far from evil. There’s magic there – things humans couldn’t even imagine. And it is closely connected to earth.”

“Connected how?” Erray asked.

“Portals, mostly. You step in and end up somewhere else. Like in the movies.”

“I–” Erray started.

“…You haven’t seen any movies,” she realised.

He shook his head.

“That’s alright, we don’t need them.”

Erray pushed the mug around on the table while he was thinking.

“So you’re saying… I’m from this other world, and I was abandoned here? –Or lost, or whatever?”

“That’s right,” Rosalind nodded.

“Does that mean I am… a demon?”

“Yes. And so am I.”

Erray observed her once more.

“But you look nothing like me.”

She smiled mysteriously and put down her tea. For a moment, the air between them seemed to shimmer. When it cleared, Erray instinctively pulled away, startled. The person across from him was still Rosalind, but she had changed. She was covered in scales of a brownish green, with hints of a brighter green speckled across, like freckles. Small horns protruded from her forehead, their tips decorated with silver bands. But underneath all of that, he still recognised the same facial features, the same blue eyes, although their pupils had become narrow slits. She rolled her shoulders and leathery wings unfolded from her back, in that same green. Erray couldn’t help but think they looked strangely large on her body.

“…You still look nothing like me,” was all he managed to say after having recovered from the shock.

She grinned, showing teeth that were a little too sharp – like his, he realised.

“There are many different kinds of demons,” she explained. “Some have scales, others have spikes or fur, some have horns, claws, or feathered wings…”

She gestured towards him.

“And some have gills.”

Erray considered this. In his memories he’d seen a face like his own, so he’d known he wasn’t alone, even if they weren’t there with him – but to think that there was an entire world out there that he had never seen? A world that was supposed to be his home? He wasn’t sure what to think.

“What connects all of them,” Rosalind continued, “no matter how different they look – is magic.”

A small flame came to life in her hand. Erray stared at it. Fire fascinated him, perhaps because it was so different from water. People claimed the two were opposites – and it made sense; they couldn’t coexist. But if you asked him, the opposite of water being land was a much more logical option.

“I don’t have magic,” he shrugged, finally being able to tear his eyes away from the dancing flames.

“I’m sure you do. You just haven’t been taught how to use it.”

Erray leaned forward. He was eager to learn more – but a little wary, still.

“Will you teach me?”

“I’m afraid I’m not much of a teacher,” she smiled. “But I’m sure I could arrange something.”

Rosalind got up to pour herself more tea. Erray realised he hadn’t taken a single sip. The mug also still felt too hot to his comfort.

“First I need to let them know you exist, though,” she said while sitting down again.

“Let who know?”

“The authorities. Although I have to admit I’m not sure where I should be reporting a case like this. Doesn’t happen every day.”

“I’m not going to be in trouble, am I?” Erray asked, shifting uneasily in his seat.

“Of course not,” Rosalind smiled. “They will be able to help and guide you. But leave it to me for now, and I will let you know whenever they’re ready for you.”

“I’ll have to go there? The other world?”

“Most likely.”

She reached out and took his hand. Erray noticed her hand was much warmer than his.

“Don’t worry, I will go with you.”

“What about the merfolk? Will I be able to go home – I mean, back to them?”

“Of course. Once everything is sorted out, you will be able to go wherever you please. The merfolk are under Downtown’s protection.”

“Downtown?”

She smiled.

“It’s what we call our world when we’re up here. Humans believe Hell is located underneath the earth, and despite it being untrue, we still refer to them in terms of “up” and “down”. This world is nicknamed “Topside”, for example. Think of it as a joke that got a little out of hand.”

Erray nodded, even though he’d only listened to about half of what she was saying. There were some pieces that just weren’t fitting together in his head.

“Rosalind…” he started, trying to organise his thoughts into words. “You are the merfolk’s contact, right?”

“That’s right. They come here to get things the sea can’t provide, and magical energy for their barriers.”

“But they don’t know you’re a demon?”

Either that or they had been lying to him his entire life, Erray thought. He was relieved when she shook her head, but he couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed anyway. If only they’d allowed him to go ashore – or had even mentioned him – he might have found Rosalind a lot sooner.

“So we… the merfolk are under Downtown’s protection – but none of them know what Downtown actually is?”

“Some schools know more than others, depending on the circumstances.”

“Why? Why would you keep yourself hidden like that?”

“Our merfolk liaison decided it this way. It would only cause unnecessary complications. We’re already posing as human, since most humans have no idea we exist either.”

“What’s the merfolk liaison?”

“Not what, who. He’s someone we consult on decisions regarding the merfolk. I suspect you’ll meet him soon enough, I bet he’ll be interested in your story.”

His story? Erray wasn’t sure he had much of a story to tell. His life hadn’t exactly been exciting up until now. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about what he’d learned either.

He grabbed the mug of tea, mainly to have something to hold onto, and took a careful sip. It tasted bitter, but he continued to drink, hoping Rosalind had been right and it would make him feel better. After all: she knew magic, didn’t she?

“What do we do now?” he whispered, having put the empty mug back on the table.

“I will have to contact some people Downtown, it might take a couple of days. You’d better go back home for now; I will send someone for you when things are arranged. We wouldn’t want another situation like today. Next time you might not be as lucky.”

Erray looked at the floor, studying the cracks between the tiles. He was very well aware his little adventure might have ended differently. So much even, that he wasn’t sure about going back out there. His disguise had proven to be a disaster, and to have to put it back on…

“Let me see if I can find you something more comfortable,” Rosalind smiled, getting up from the table.

She must have seen him reluctantly eyeing the pile of clothes. But it wasn’t just the clothes he was hesitant about. What was he supposed to say when he got back? How was he going to explain this? Were they even going to listen?

A moment later Rosalind returned with a noticeably baggier shirt. She looked like her human self again – could he even call it that, or would she simply see it as a disguise?

“I’m afraid I don’t have much in your size,” she shrugged apologetically. “But this should at least be a little easier on you.”

Erray took it, but didn’t try it on yet. He just held it in his hands, squeezing the fabric while he looked for the right words.

“Rosalind?” he started.

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I stick around a little longer? Just for an hour or something.”

“Of course not. I can imagine there’s much you’ll want to know.”

Erray nodded. She was right, his head was still full of questions, and he needed a moment to make sense of all this new information. But he also really didn’t know what to do once he’d gotten home. They would be angry, he was sure of it. He had disobeyed them, and now a stranger was going to come for him? His mother would be happy for him, but also wouldn’t want him to leave for the unknown, no matter who would be guiding him. Nevertheless, he trusted Rosalind to keep him safe, even though they’d just met.

He looked up, forcing himself to smile.