The Visitors

It was another scorching day in the suburbs. The star known only as Sol hung high in the cloudless sky, not yet through with its long days’ work. The floor of the concrete jungle was hot enough to fry an egg. The only respite was provided by the shade of the trees, which withstood the onslaught of heat with impressive fervor. The cicadas had just emerged from their 14-year slumber, and they had something to say about it. They clung to the trees, desperately seeking their protection and offering, by way of compensation, their unceasing song. Their collective melodic purr filled the hot air with music. The only other survivor who dared brave Sol’s wilds was a single person. 

Mrs. Cho was the only member of her species outside across the entire street. She was a middle-aged woman hanging laundry out to dry rather diligently. She seemed in no rush to return to the relative safety of the cave she called “home.” She did not fear Sol’s wrath, not as her children and her children’s friends did. She quietly thought to herself that when she was young, her friends would all have loved to play outside. They would have invented any game it took just to justify more time out with them. She did admit to herself, however, that it was not nearly this hot when she was young. She was delighted when she realized that Mrs. Jenson's dog had finally stopped barking. She was glad that wicked women had finally taken the dog in. It was too hot for a dog to be out on a day like this. She continued to tend to her task nonetheless. 

This day was not special. It was no different than all the other days that had preceded it that summer. It was striking only in its lack of strikingness. That is, until the portal formed.

As through an imperceptible gap in the fabric of space, a mysterious rapier emerged, floating in the air. It was there in an instant, where previously nothing had been. Least of all, a levitating blade. It was surrounded by a glow of soft light that rivaled even Sol’s in sheer brightness. The rapier was unremarkable in nearly all aspects. It was not lavishly adorned. It had no hint of a golden finish or any detail of value, for that matter. It was pure and plain steel. It was not remarkable at all, save for its ability to levitate and the fact that it had come into spontaneous existence. The rapier held still for a further moment, almost as if to catch its breath. Upon regaining its stamina, the rapier, as if propelled by its own force of will, slowly began to spin counterclockwise. It appeared to struggle greatly, as though it was cutting a hole through nothing. The process produced a sound that was somewhere between ripping and screaming. Where it had once been, a blueish purple fluid-like membrane appeared to fill in for its absence. The second spontaneous aberration, only more alien and unsettling than the first. The rapier completed its full circumnavigation not ten seconds later. The purple membrane now formed a complete, vaguely circular shape. The third apparition appeared soon thereafter. As if it had always been there, a gloved hand appeared, clutching onto the hilt of the rapier. It hadn’t been. The hand gave way to an arm that was followed by a body through the membrane. This body was flanked by another significantly taller body. Both emerged fully from the two-dimensional floating portal from parts unknown, as if it did not defy all known conventions of physics. 

The first was a short boy, perhaps 15. His attire? Nothing short of questionable. Mrs. Cho had never seen anything like it. He was dressed in a garb that looked like it belonged in a museum.  Her attention was immediately drawn to his neck, which was decorated with a rather old-fashioned-looking white frilled necktie, like a 17th-century a neckerchief. His big flashy red jacket looked taken from the same period, some sort of European pirate coat. The white shirt underneath had no shortage of frills either, particularly around the neck. Most who lacked Mrs. Cho’s eye for fashion wouldn't have noticed that what appeared to be the boy's hair was in fact a wig. The wig was white as snow and went down past the boy's neck with tressed hair. It was gaudie as anything, and Mrs. Cho was living for it. His skin was nearly colorless, and his face was truly expressionless.

His companion was cut from a different cloth entirely. He towered over the boy, standing sentinel like his guardian. He held and leaned unto a large serpentine wooden spear taller than himself. He was broad, aged, and seemingly experienced. He was by no means fit, however. His belly stretched out a full length past his strong chest. His hair was perfectly blonde. His skin was dark and covered in scars and marks. He was garbed in an equally outdated pairing of a purple silken vest and forest green trousers, finished with a brown cloak.  The greatest of grins was firmly planted upon his face and showed no sign of receding.

Their matching boots stepped forward in nearly perfect unison. As soon as they exited the portal, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The boy took one glance right and one left, and his cold blue eyes fixed on the woman. They looked like oceans of frigid water. She had, of course, been observing the entire ordeal following the sound. She stared blankly back at him. She was overcome with a slurry of fear, surprise, and curiosity. She spoke first.

“Hello,” She managed to mumble out without thought. “Can I help you?” Despite her fear, she genuinely desired to be helpful.

“Yes, may you direct me to the residence of one Kobe,” the boy replied in a cold monotone voice as he sheathed the silver blade he had brandished in the scabbard on his belt with flurishing,  elegance, and panache.

“Mrs. Satoshi’s boy? Why, they live right down at the end of the street, the yellow house,” She responded warmly. Immediately, she questioned her decisions as she glanced at their outdated weapons.

“I see,” the boy replied. A quick smile dashed across his face and then off again as it returned to its neutral and clearly most comfortable position. It could not be mistaken for genuine. This did not ease the woman. The boy bowed slightly and hurried on.

“Are you going to hurt him?” The woman rushed out with palpable fear in her voice.

“No,” the boy answered quickly. There was no hint of warmth in his voice.

“Thank you kindly, Ma'am,” The tall older man added. His grin widened. It was warm and true. He reached for a small pouch around his belt and emerged with a small golden square. He tossed it to the woman, who stumbled and fumbled to catch it. It was much heavier than she had expected. Carved into the coin was a maned lion sitting like a housecat. She was only more puzzled than before. “You have my word that so long as we are here, no harm will come to that boy,” he added to reassure her. She let out a forced smile, desperately trying to conceal her puzzlement. The pair slowly walked down the street, and the woman prayed she had not made a mistake. As they passed her, the boy paid her no mind, and the man let out a seemingly friendly bow.

When they arrived at the modest yellow house at the end of the street, the boy looked up at the older man. The older man approached the door and knocked lightly with much restraint. They heard a rustling and a quick “Coming.” A kind-faced woman wearing a white apron over a yellow floral dress answered the door. “Hello,” she smiled with enough warmth to melt an iceberg.

“Hello, is this the home of Satoshi Kobe?” the older man asks rather sheepishly.

“It is. I’m his mother. Please come in. But leave your weapons and boots by the door. Can I offer you some tea?” Mrs. Satoshi offers. The boy and the older man could now see into the house. It was every bit as modest on the inside as it was on the outside. It felt small and cramped. A small black cat with green eyes and white paws stared out at the pair from inside and began to meow quietly. The cat approached the door and watched the visitors.

They followed Mrs. Satoshi into the home. Both left their weapons and boots by the door. She settled them around a small, low table surrounded by cushions in what served as both the kitchen and the dining room. Much like the entry, it is claustrophobic. The shelves and cabinets were cluttered with all kinds of colourful packages, paraphernalia, and food. The black cat followed the pair intently as if it were keeping an eye on them. It spun in a circle and settled on a cushion in the corner of the room, never once breaking eye contact with the boy. 

"Is green tea alright?" The woman smiled down on them warmly with her eyes closed.

“Green… perfect. Thank you, ma'am,” the boy responded quickly with the mildest air of excitement that none could be faulted for failing to detect. 

“Of course. And you?” She turned to the older man.

“Oh, nothing, thank you, I’m not much of a tea man myself.” He closed his eyes, scratched his golden locks, and returned a smile to match.

“What are your names?” Mrs. Satoshi inquired.

“The boy here is Prince Leo Orre Welles, Son of Duke Leonidas Welles and Queen Anne Orre, Heir to the Three Isles of Pax Aure, Lord of Castle Hill. I am his guardian and teacher. You may call me Bruno,” the older man answered.

“I see. How impressive. I’ll start on your tea.” She bows and turns her back, effectively leaving the dining room and entering the kitchen. "I love your costumes. So how do you know, Sato? Are you a friend of his?” She questioned with her back turned while preparing the tea.

“Costumes?” Prince Leo whispered, puzzled.

“Not yet, Ma'am, but we hope to be, and these are no costumes. Where we are from, these are quite nice,” Bruno responded.

“And where is that?” She turned to peek another look.

“Æurea,” Bruno returns with a smile.

“Æurea?. I’ve never heard of that place. Is it far from here?” Mrs. Satoshi questions.

“Very far. You see, we are not from your world as you know it. We are from a different yet very similar place."

“How very peculiar...” Mrs. Satoshi set down the tea cups as well as two bowls of miso soup. She began to pour their tea from the pot. 

“Thank you very much,” both said in unison.

“So what does all this have to do with my Sato?” she finally asked worriedly.

“We have reason to believe he is one of seven great warriors from across all of space and time with the power to control a special weapon,” the old man elaborates with much gusto.

“Sounds dangerous...” Mrs. Satoshi baited.

“Certainly, but if he agrees to help us, he will be under our protection, and we will do everything in our power to keep him safe. You have my word,” Bruno promised.

“Can you guarantee his safety?” Mrs. Satoshi questioned, despite knowing full well the answer.

“No,” Prince Leo interjected, “we cannot.” Bruno shot him an annoyed glance.

“I imagine you can understand how crazy this all sounds?” Mrs. Satoshi irritably responded. “You want me to allow you to take my son to what? Fight for you? You want me to put him in danger? This is not a reasonable request.”

“We understand this is a lot to take in, but the truth is we are not the only one that knows your son is here, and he and everyone he knows are in a lot more danger if he doesn’t come with us,” Bruno added. “We don’t expect you to say yes, just let us speak with him,” Bruno pleaded.

“He isn’t home. He is at his friend’s house. If what you say is true, then he is safer there.”