Pak

　　We guess the age of an elf by the length of its hair, but Grandmother always cut mine. She kept me a child forever. I tried to grow it out in school, but it started tickling my eyes. I hated it. So I sheared away my decades. I am ageless&

　　Immortal?

　　My lip curls. I can feel the cold voice`s oily grin imprint on my mind, licking my crinkled, burnt ear.

　　"Of course not," I say, shooting a glare at the empty space beside me.

　　"Prrroooh!" Cabbage pleads. I stop walking. A heavy blue wave chills my whole body. He must be worried& I`ve been acting strange lately.

　　"I`m sorry," I whisper and kneel down before him, offering my hand. He narrows his eyes and sniffs me. I scratch his forehead. He huffs.

　　"I just need sleep," I reason. "I promise, I`m okay."

　　No you`re not&

　　I inhale sharply, ignoring the voice on my left.

　　"Mrrrrrh..." Cabbage gives me a wary look, then waddles ahead. I sigh and run my hands through my short hair. Far in the distance, I see buildings, but no light. It`s quiet. A ghost town.

　　Just keep walking&

　　Rorri

　　"The Sweetgrass Swill`&" Adar said slowly.

　　"Ugh. What a terrible name."

　　The winter chill nipped Rorri`s face as the two lumbered up the street. He latched to the crook of Adar`s elbow, putting all his weight on his friend`s strong arm, as visions of himself as an elderly woman swam before his broken eyes.

　　"There`s a step, here," Adar warned, stopping. Rorri hesitated, but he gingerly put his left foot forward, braced for the sudden resistance his toe would find. He jumped when his foot met the step`s edge, but he knew it was safe to put his weight down on that side. He shakily lifted his right foot and hovered it forward, searching for the top of the raised edge. He put his foot down, but for a split second, it did not find purchase. His body flooded with adrenaline, preparing to free fall, but Adar kept him lifted, and his sole found the ground without more than a slight stumble.

　　"Nice," Adar said.

　　"Oh, fuck off."

　　From just ahead came chattering and clinking glasses, crackling fire, footsteps and unfamiliar thumping. Music spilled from a bard`s guitar, their voice carrying over the invisible crowd.

　　Woah-oh-oh, baby, oh-oh&

　　Rorri couldn`t catch the lyrics, his ears constantly tugged by some other noise - the wind`s whistling, a bell`s chime, barking in the distance. The city`s thousands of voices screeched in the air all at once, like ghosts with unfinished business.

　　"Welcome, boys!" a chipper voice exploded just before them. "Go on and have a seat, I`ll be with you in a tick!"

　　"Thanks," Adar said, but Rorri sensed the person had already buzzed away, a dragonfly in the noisy bog ahead.

　　As the two hobbled into the tavern, Rorri`s grip tightened on his friend`s elbow. It was their first outing since the opera, a celebration of his recovery`. Adar insisted he was ready, and he reluctantly agreed, but now that they were there, the sheer intensity of the noise made him wish he hadn`t. He expected to stumble and bump into things, and he expected to be treated differently by strangers, to be made fun of or pitied, but he hadn`t anticipated the assault on his ears. Every sound hit him at once, with no way to ascertain distance or volume.

　　"Rorri?"

　　"What? S-sorry," Rorri stammered, realizing they`d come to a stop. "It`s loud in here&"

　　"Didn`t think it would be this busy," Adar said. "But we`re at the table now."

　　Adar gently guided Rorri`s hand to the chair. He felt for its outline, found where the back joined with the seat, and carefully slid into it, scooting forward until he found a comfortable distance from the table`s edge. The warm scent of baked apples filled the air, mingling with sour notes of alcohol and the smoky smell of a mid-winter fire. It was a far cry from the sweat and stink of taverns to which he was accustomed. They must have been in a nicer part of the basin, not quite stuck to the Wall, where shady sorts would congregate - where his Weathermen would recognize him.

　　"Elf-run, this place?" Rorri said, pressing his fingers to his temples.

　　"How did you know?" The waiter`s voice stabbed into his right ear, causing him to recoil. "It`s true then, isn`t it? That your people can read minds?"

　　Rorri bristled. "Everyone here is speaking Elvish," he said. "I`ll just have an apple cider-"

　　"He knew what I was about to ask!" the waiter whispered, though not nearly quietly enough. Rorri ignored the comment. The tavern din swelled again, crowding out his thoughts.

　　&The Widow&

　　Rorri`s ears perked up, a residual habit from long ago when he was still gathering intel` on Iridan`s infamous master criminal. The voice barely penetrated the bubble of noise, but those words stood out, a burst of green in the void that teased his attention towards it.

　　...forbidden magic?

　　"What&?"

　　"He said, I`ll be right back with your cider, and something fruity for you,`" Adar shouted. Rorri snorted and shook his head.

　　"Not that," he said, then leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Is he still here?"

　　"No," Adar said. "I think he likes you, though. His feet were pointing towards you the whole time, which I`ve heard means-"

　　"I don`t care," Rorri said. "I overheard someone talking about forbidden magic`. Do you know anything about that?"

　　He unconsciously glanced up, as if he could search Adar`s face. Adar hummed, though the sound seemed performative, as if he were intentionally signaling to Rorri that he was indeed thinking about the question.

　　"I`ve never heard of it," he finally said. "I`ve been in Iridan for centuries, and I can`t recall anything like that ever coming up. But I`m not a magician, so&"

　　"Shacia never taught me anything about it," Rorri said.

　　"Well, if it`s forbidden, maybe she wasn`t allowed to?"

　　Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

　　&any magic can be sinister if used for sinister purposes&

　　Rorri shivered as her voice echoed in his ear. He felt that he had actually heard her, another voice in a sea of voices, but he knew he couldn`t have. It was just a memory, however badly he wished she was really there.

　　"I think she would have told me," Rorri said. "Even if it was just to say that it`s a thing&"

　　A moment later, a heavy thump hit the table, followed by a delicate clink on the opposite side.

　　"Enjoy, boys," the waiter sang. "Let me know if you need anything else!"

　　Rorri lightly swept his hand across the table until his fingers met the warm side of a mug. He found the handle and carefully brought it to his lips. Its steam carried a dozen subtle scents - apple, spices, alcohol - and he took a slow sip, letting the flavor pool on his tongue before swallowing. Its heat traveled to his chest, and the pub`s noise faded, his senses embraced by the cider`s sweet touch. Rorri sank back in his chair.

　　"This is fantastic," he said. "How are you paying for all of this, anyway, without Bilge around to find work for us?"

　　An unusual silence followed his question.

　　"&Adar?"

　　"I`d rather not talk about it," Adar said curtly.

　　"Erm& okay?" Rorri said. "It`s not like you to keep secrets."

　　"Yes, well&" Rorri felt a rhythmic vibration on the table - Adar drumming his fingers, maybe. "Let`s just say, I`d very much like to find a different source of income as soon as possible."

　　"You know, if it`s sex work, that`s nothing to be ashamed of."

　　"I wish it was sex work," Adar said. Rorri grimaced, then took another sip of his drink.

　　"What do you want to do for money, then?" he asked.

　　"I`d like for you to start pulling your weight, to be frank."

　　"What - wow, seriously?"

　　"Yes," Adar said. "I was thinking we might be able to sell your art."

　　Rorri scoffed. "Please. You and I both know that-"

　　"That you`re talented?" Adar finished. "But if that`s not enough for you, now that you`re blind, you`ve got the novelty factor that rich people love."

　　A prickle of irritation passed through Rorri`s chest. He sat quietly, thinking.

　　"Feels a bit demeaning, but& You`ve got a point."

　　"I thought maybe your tutor could help us find a buyer," Adar continued.

　　"She`s not my tutor anymore," Rorri said sharply.

　　"&Right, sorry," Adar said. "I`m just terrible with names."

　　"Her name is Shacia. Just call her that, please."

　　"Sure." Adar`s voice provoked a muddy orange-tinted whorl in Rorri`s mind, which he recognized as the color of discomfort. His heart jolted each time a sound showed him its color. It was just so weird. There was no bolder reminder of his bizarre new reality than when his senses jumbled together like that, so nonsensically, so vividly, and with such uncanny understanding.

　　"Anyway, the art market is on the Plateau, right? I`m sure Shacia has connections."

　　"Probably," Rorri said, though his mind was receding, taken by the tide of noise once more&

　　Ugh! I wish I could&

　　&some kind of magic artifacts&

　　Thumping footsteps&

　　Did you hear& the wedding&?

　　My brother said&

　　An uproar of laughter&

　　Please! As if the Queen would&

　　&so tired&

　　Shattering glass. Gasps.

　　Do you think& really a Du閚?

　　Why don`t you&

　　A long, melodic falsetto&

　　Can you even do magic?

　　"Have a sip of your drink, Rorri," Adar said, loudly, but gently. "It`s alright. We`re in a safe place-"

　　"I`m getting a headache," Rorri said, just as the bard`s upbeat ditty wound down, eclipsed by light applause. He hadn`t noticed how rapid his breathing had become, nor how fast his leg was bouncing under the table, nor how frozen his fingers felt. He reached for the mug, finding some relief on its warm ceramic surface.

　　"Let`s just finish these and we can leave," Adar said. His voice betrayed nothing but patience, and yet Rorri felt a tug of guilt. He nodded weakly, taking a long drag of his cider, listening to the bard thank the audience.

　　"I`ve got one last song for you lovely folks tonight&"

　　"I like this person," Adar said. "They`ve got a really nice voice. Can`t quite place the accent."

　　A gentle melody drifted out from the stage as the bard spoke over the first bars of the song.

　　"I wrote this one for my lady decades ago. Bless her heart. She hadn`t even kissed me yet."

　　A round of chuckles rippled through the crowd.

　　"Now, we`ve got a boy, sweetest little guy you`ll ever meet. Takes after his mama, right down to those pretty green eyes."

　　Rorri heard giggling and swooning all around.

　　"Now, my boy`s always had trouble with sleep. Used to keep me and the lady up all night. We tried everything. Rockin` him, holdin` him. Even tried that trick with the whiskey. You know what I`m talkin` about. Tell you right now, I don`t recommend it."

　　Another round of laughter. The bard punctuated the joke with a trill before easing back into the music.

　　"Nothing worked. We were pullin` our hair out. Felt like neither one of us`d slept for centuries. Finally, one night, his mama started singin` this to him& Let me tell you, it was really somethin`. Kid went out like a light."

　　In the void, each note looked like leaves sprouting on a vine, or drops of rain hitting the forest bed. It warmed Rorri`s ears. It tickled his eyes.

　　"This one`s for my boy& And for any a` you folks tossin` and turnin` tonight. I call it Dreaming of You`."

　　And just as the bard`s voice melted into the song like a distant roll of thunder, the void sang with light. The veil that shrouded Rorri`s vision dissipated, like smoke dispersed by the music`s gentle breeze, revealing a world unlike anything he`d ever seen.

　　Since he lost his sight, his hallucinations always kept close to the surface of his eyes. He`d never had the sense that he might be able to reach out and touch them, no matter how vivid they were. But this was different. A forest stretched out before him, wild and untamed, expanding far beyond what he could see. For the first time in months, Rorri saw a horizon, though darkness still curtained the scene as if the sky was stained by the night. But the trees exuded dim light, and the scene was further lit by& what were they?

　　Luminescent bulbs and clusters of every color danced about in the air. Some were bright, and others dim. Some zipped by, and others stayed put. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason about the lights` movements, though some clusters traveled in threes, forming the points of a triangle floating together, the bottom two points swinging and bobbing. A cloud of rainbow filled the air, pulsing with the music, and each light it touched glittered like an ocean spray in the sun. Blades of grass and bushels of leaves swayed in a breeze he couldn`t feel. Flowers bloomed from hanging branches. Rorri ached to reach out and touch something, to explore this strange, fantastic land, if only to remember the feeling of knowing what he was reaching for.

　　But the tavern still buzzed and rattled around him. The air still smelled of spice, alcohol, food and the fireplace. The chair still held his body aloft, and his cider still warmed his fingers. He couldn`t see his body, though two faint lights hovered just before him, seemingly following his hands` movements with a slight delay. A short distance away, a burst of light erupted in the air and vanished just as quickly. Shortly after, the smell of cigarette smoke wafted to his nose. Rorri checked to see if he could still feel the table, starting slightly as he met the smooth wood. In the forest, the air before him was clear and unobstructed, but his body was still firmly rooted in the real world. He couldn`t explore. He was still a blind man.

　　"Rorri?"

　　Rorri snapped his gaze towards Adar`s voice, locking onto a wisp of dim blue light, glinting with every sound his friend spoke.

　　"I don`t know what you`re seeing," Adar said slowly, "but there`s something going on with your eyes, and you`re definitely scaring people. For the record, I don`t care that you`re scaring people. I scare people all the time. But, uh& How do I put this&?"

　　"W-we should go," Rorri stammered.

　　"Yes," Adar agreed. "I`m going to get the waiter so we can pay and get out of here. You, um, might want to close your eyes for a bit."

　　Rorri nodded and did as his friend suggested, bowing his head. The forest faded after a few minutes, until its image was an echo in his mind, a strange memory he didn`t understand.