#hadm2025

It was a beach.

That much was easy to see. There was the damp sand that got in your boots, and the wind that blew said sand, as well as salty seawater, in your face. That gave the indication that there was also an ocean, and if you looked past the endless sand, you would not be disappointed. The ocean stretched out farther than the beach, which might've been a desert if you turned to look back. No one ever did, though, so it didn't matter what was there. It should've just been a beach. It had a look like it had been around for a long time, untouched for millennia. Therefore, it should've been untouched.

There shouldn't have been several large boxes lying around. Or various painted pebbles. And there certainly shouldn't have been a strange counter, with bits of lace wrapped around the corners, and candles on one end. People were always disoriented when they saw this. It helped, because it meant they acted a bit more like they were in a dream, and didn't immediately bring attention to the fact that they were now here, at the beach, contrary to where they were half a second ago, which was literally anywhere else.

Grian was always sitting behind the desk. He'd been sitting there for as long as he could remember, and his memory was quite good, aside from names. His purpose had always been clear. Help the person who had come here to figure out why, and help them get back. The difficulty differed with each new person. Sometimes they asked lots of questions, which was annoying. Usually they weren't very intelligent ones. Sometimes they were far too silent. That was worse than the ones who were curious, because it meant it was far harder to get them to return. And it meant it was harder for them to tell their stories.

Something they were unhappy with, in their life. That was, in all cases but six, the reason they were here. And in payment for helping them, they told Grian about the stories of their life. They didn't realize they were paying him, because they were telling him about their problems, which was his… Not job. Purpose, maybe, but it wasn't a job. You could quit jobs. You could do your job wrong. Grian had never done anything wrong that he was aware of. He assumed someone was supposed to tell him if that happened.

He didn't think he'd ever had a life. Not a true one. Not like the ones people told him about. He'd never been too upset about it. He didn't feel regret in the same way as humans did, or longing. And all of them had been human, except for the six that had been different. He remembered the beginning. Blinking his eyes open, facing the first one. The first one had been strange, but not in the same way the six who were different had been. Familiar. If Grian ever had had a life, it must have had something to do with the first one. They had been curious, but in an intelligent way, not in the way most of the people who came after had been.

They had asked things that, at the time, Grian hadn't known the answers to. What was his name? Why did he have those flowing wings? Why were they also where his ears should be? Why did the cloak cover his arms and hands? Maybe they hadn't been as intelligent questions as one might consider, but they were the most clear ones, and the first questions he'd ever heard that he knew of. It was with him that Grian had learned things. Learned what it meant to consider possibilities, and pick the right one. And learned to lie when he didn't.

The most common question was the one about the sun. From what he was told, it always hung right behind his head, haloing it with golden light. They asked why it never moved. That was a question Grian had known the answer to, even back with the first one. It was a simple answer, really. Fairly obvious, if you thought about it.

"I haven't moved, so why should the sun?"

Yet it always seemed to confuse people more. That was the thing about humans. They were always getting confused. They seemed to enjoy doing so. From some peoples stories, he had discovered that people dedicated their whole lives to confuse both themselves and the world around them. It was called philosophy. What a strange thing to pick up. Going around, questioning things. Maybe things didn't like getting questioned.

The candles to his left were always lit. They flickered in the breeze. The boxes that lay around were never opened, and the coloured pebbles were never turned over. That was just how things went. People asked the questions they were supposed to, but they never questioned the things that were there. Except for those six. Grian had long forgotten their names, because he'd never been good at remembering that sort of thing, but it would be a long time before he forgot their actions. He remembered it now, while he waited for the next person. Sometimes they came in quick succession. Sometimes it took a while. Grian knew that it wouldn't be too long, in case he got bored enough to, say, leave the counter, or turn around.

Whenever he started wondering about that, a person was sure to turn up soon. Grian hadn't been placed here for thinking and curiosity, but for learning and helping. Still, with all the humans who came by, he would admit he picked up a few things from them. Some ideas. Nothing harmful, per say, or disruptive, but he knew he thought a lot more about these things than at the beginning. He didn't think much about anything back then.

Knowledge was only powerful if you knew how to use it. If Grian ever got the chance to try, he would want to see if he could find those six people, and maybe even the first one. Time worked differently here, so there was always a chance he'd be able to find at least one of them.

Besides, he was in need of a holiday.

. . .

That’s it for day two, I will see you all tomorrow hopefully!

Taglist: @i-am-beckyu , @da3dm , @faeiyn-cant-write , @boiled-ginger-ale , @local-squishmallow, @akatthatwants2sleep , @vocal-nyx-cords