Echoes (III)

Despite how he seemed, Lucien was rarely someone who worried. Very few things could make him sweat assuming he accounted for them⸺and life was much simpler when he did. Naturally, everything was accounted for. Whether it was morning, afternoon, or evening, Lucien had everything he did and the actions of people around him marked down to the minute. Everything would remain the same as long as he had the power to make it happen. That was until he became the noble of this village and even more once he learned about what happened at night. Lucien despised it, but the moment Sayo heard something besides rain and thunder he fell in love with it.

Wild music filled the streets, melding with the calm roar of silver flames and laughter. For the first time since Sayo arrived, it finally felt like he was around actual people. Sayo could barely contain his excitement, jumping from place to place. He sang with villagers and played a few games, enveloping himself in the sights and sounds of whatever this was all meant to be. Occasionally, Sayo would ask a villager about Lakia, or the sorcerer he was looking for, only to be met with skepticism at best or scorn whenever someone noticed his hands. No matter who he spoke to or where he went, people continued to compare him to someone named Rikku.

"Rikku this, Rikku that," he muttered to himself.

Apparently, hours before, whoever this Rikku girl was had similar questions, at least similar enough for the villagers to make the comparison. On one hand, the concept seemed exciting, finally Sayo made some headway in his search, but on the other hand, he had to wrestle with the idea that the old master in his head was just some sad granny hiding away in a hut.

So…lame.

Sayo couldn’t stomach the thought.

He hadn’t noticed it, but the heat from the flames made the rain feel almost nonexistent. Every now and then, Sayo felt a light tremor fill the festival and with it the people grew louder. Sayo knew the sensation, someone was using sorcery, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It was obvious that it wasn’t from Lucien, not only was he adamant about not using Lakia at night but also each pulse felt rough and disjointed, as if this was someone using Lakia for the first time rather than some master. Sayo even noticed the occasional chalk sketches that lined a few walls and booths, maybe it was the work of a sorcerer, but in the same vein the symbols were no different than what a kid might try to do as graffiti. No matter what, the search seemed to be fruitless, and with it Sayo dared to let his senses dull.

The earthy smell was gone, now replaced with something much sweeter⸺richer.

Yakitori?

It had been so long since he had some. The sweet scent of honey and roasted meat guided Sayo from the rooftops and through the crowds of people towards a silver flame. A series of booths surrounded it like they were guarding the fire from anyone who dared to extinguish it; their defense?

Food.

Sayo’s eyes glimmered at the sight. It was like food from all corners of the world gathered together for a feast and Sayo needed to devour it all. All it took was a simple nod from the owner and Sayo left with what felt like forty different meat skewers, drenched in honey. The moment one entered his mouth, he was in meat heaven. Nothing could break this feeling. No matter what it was, part of Sayo hoped every day as a sorcerer could be like this.

Music, fun, and people to share it all with.

When Sayo sat down next to a crowd, an old man motioned for one of the skewers.

“Spare some for the old?”

Before Sayo could answer, he noticed a few of his Yakitori were gone and a mini pile of skewers were next to the old man.

Did he just⸺

“I was gonna give you some but⸺no way!” Sayo shouted.

The old man just smirked innocently before tapping his wrists.

“Might be better to keep those hidden, the villagers aren’t too big on machines,” he muttered.

Machine…

Sayo’s fingers twitched. His metallic hands squirmed beneath fabric as Sayo carefully draped his sleeves over them, keeping a close eye on the man. His mind seemed to freeze, even though he tried to ignore it, someone finally cared enough to point it out to him. The old man simply pat Sayo on the shoulder.

“You’re not from around here, are ya?”

Despite his age, the man’s voice was much warmer compared to the older nobles Sayo used to meet. Then again this guy was one of the few older men he met that weren’t some kind of noble⸺usually people don’t live that long unless they are.

“‘Course not,” Sayo muttered, trying to cram the remaining Yakitori down his mouth while trying to hide his hands, “What is all of this supposed to be?”

“This? Just a little festival we put on at night⸺nice, isn’t it?”

The old man picked up another one of Sayo’s skewers and tossed one of the meat cubes into Sayo’s mouth. That alone might’ve been enough to make Sayo forgive him, but he sighed, letting the memories of the night wash over him.

So many people—yet even in a place like this they found a way to be happy. Sayo thought to himself.

“Tell me about it… All of this feels awesome, you guys do this every night?” Sayo asked.

“For the past eighty years almost—maybe even a long time before it.”

“REALLY?!”

The idea itself made Sayo bounce with excitement. A party like this every night for eighty years. All the food you could ever want and great music too. It was otherworldly, but something stopped Sayo.

“Why?”

The way the old man laughed blended with the roar of the flames before he motioned towards them.

“What else could we do?”

Sayo understood the feeling, memories swirled in his mind of that empty lab those around him dared to call a hospital and how helpless he felt until he was able to sense that Asahi was close. That helplessness, still tugged at his heart, yet part of him still had to ask.

“Why don’t you guys just leave?” Sayo asked.

“Many try. So many do, but even when they promise to return and tell us about the outside world, they never return.”

The rumors rang true. Sayo remembered how bad the storm was when he stepped into the territory. Wind swirled around him like it was trying to rip the air out of his lungs and if he wasn’t careful, the rain would’ve damaged his cybernetic body. Sayo was lucky enough that a stray lightning bolt wasn’t the end for him. He couldn’t imagine what that would do to the average person.

“...right, sorry for asking.”

The old man noticed how Sayo’s demeanor changed and he chuckled to himself.

“No need for apologies. I used to ask similar questions when I was your age,” the old man’s gaze sharpened, “Speaking of questions, I’ve been hearing that you’ve been looking around for someone. Who could you possibly find here?”

“A sorcerer,” Sayo muttered, “One who could be causing all this rain. I wanna find him and stop him.”

The old man gave Sayo a knowing glance like he heard that same phrasing before. He kept it in mind, choosing his words carefully as he spoke.

“Most foreigners take their questions to Lord Lucien and then disappear, so color me surprised to see you all the way down here asking around. Something about a magician?”

“Sorcerer,” Sayo corrected, “I’ve been asking around but, so far I’ve got nothing. Everyone just tells me that I’m somehow ‘just like Rikku’. I don’t even know who that is!”

The old man chuckled. They were similar at least. Rikku might’ve changed in the past year, but he could see the resemblance. Two brats who didn’t quite understand life, yet looked at it so optimistically. When the old man stopped reminiscing, he was faced with the sight of a pouting Sayo that dared to be on the verge of tears.

“It’s not funny!”

“Maybe you should speak to Rikku you two have a lo⸺”

“I would if I could but I can’t find her!”

Sayo slumped over, utterly defeated by this village. The sorcerer being some granny was the last of his problems if he couldn’t even find whoever Rikku is.

“Do you want to know where she is?”

“Like you know…”

“Don’t underestimate the elderly! I’ve been alive long enough to know where any villager might be, just so happens that Rikku loudly declared that she was going to stop the rain, before running into the outskirts of the village. You seem like a lucky boy, I bet you’ll be able to find her before it's morning.”

 The old man looked so proud of himself, practically beaming as he imagined Sayo’s reaction, but when he opened his eyes Sayo was gone and he took his Yakitori with him.

“That brat!”