We ran through the dusty, windy streets for a long time, our feet hitting the ground as a flurry of loose dust flew behind us. 

It seemed to me like we were going deeper into the town. The deserted streets were slowly filling with people and squalor alike. Waste littered the road on either side as ungodly smells wafted to my nostrils. We ran for a little longer, ultimately coming to rest at the turn of a narrow dark alley. The woman stopped running and turned around to face me.

 It was then that I noticed that she seemed scarcely a few years older than me. Her platinum blonde hair and her dark eyes were framed with heavy lashes. She had sharp cheekbones and nose, which made her look refined. She spoke between lungfuls of deep breaths as both of us panted from our wild run. "Wow. That was awesome!" 

She beamed at me, her eyes twinkling gleefully, and I couldn't help but grin sheepishly back. Her smile faltered and vanished entirely as her gaze shifted to my hand, which I realized now was smeared with blood. "You're hurt." 

She walked over to me and tried to touch my arm. I flinched backwards reflexively, quickly rambling on before the awkwardness could settle. "It's fine."

"You look like an egg. Your colour, I mean," she said calmly. I looked at her, puzzled. She smirked. "I mean, you look pale. You've lost a lot of blood, kiddo."

I felt a twinge of annoyance at her calling me a kid. I cradled my stinging arm close to me. I knew the cut would heal itself soon. However, the metallic smell was making me dizzy. "I'm not a kid," I muttered. 

She smiled as if amused, and I realized how childish I had sounded. She glanced around her surreptitiously and leaned in closer to me. "Wait here. I think it's better if we do this outside."

Before I could ask her what she meant, she had disappeared into one of the rundown buildings. A moment later, however, a chubby, older woman walked towards me, leaving her post by the door of the wooden, dingy apartment in the narrow alley.

 She had loud makeup on, her light hair was set in elaborate curls. A prominent mole near her chin seemed to amplify her somewhat rugged beauty. She leaned forward slightly, almost making her bosom tumble out of the deep necked dress. She batted her eyelids at me, and I felt my face prickling with sudden embarrassment. The familiar anxiety at being in a new place clawed at my chest and I decided I needed to focus on my breathing to tether my sanity. 

"Who is this handsome lad?" she purred, smiling at me, coquettishly. "You look a little young, but I could take you."

It was a split second later that I realized her implication and took a step back; horrified. I glanced around the shanty building behind her and saw a woman with similar suggestive clothing milling all around.

"Are you here for a good time, honey?" Another woman, much younger than this one came out of the shadows. She smiled lasciviously. "Still a virgin?" she cooed to the raucous laughter of both the women.

I blinked, my heart hammering almost painfully. Instinctively I took a step backwards. "I-I'm not here for-er-"

"Come on, honey-'' the plump woman said, walking uncomfortably close to me. My heart beat rapidly in my chest. I could smell the stale scent of beer and tobacco from her breath and wanted to run. She lowered her voice and whispered. "Let me teach you what life is about."

"Clara!" 

A stern voice sounded as the woman stepped back, and I let out the breath. Relief gushed through me. I saw the woman from the bar standing with a roll of bandage in her hand and glaring at both the woman angrily. Her eyes flashed, her jaw set. "He's not a client."

Clara sighed and stepped back from me, shaking her head as if in regret. "What a pity.''

Without another word, she turned around and walked away, sashaying her ample hips. The other woman stared at me for a few more moments before smiling. "Alas! A face like that...I'd do you for free."

She licked the corner of her mouth with her tongue and winked at me before strutting away, swaying her hips suggestively. I tore my eyes away from her, my face hot. I looked back at the woman from the bar as she shook her head and walked towards me huffily, unrolling the gauze. "I really shouldn't have brought you here." 

She took my arm and this time, I let her. She took a wad of cotton and a bottle of antiseptic out from her skirt pocket and gently started dabbing at the blood, which had finally stopped flowing. I knew that the bruise would disappear on its own, but somehow when her soft, warm hands grazed my skin, I couldn't get myself to stop or flinch away.

"Clara and Sana aren't bad people," she spoke softly as she wiped up the blood and a stinging pain seared through my skin. "It's just-'' I could see a pink blush creeping up her caramel skin as she murmured. "With filth like the ones that come here- '' She shook her head. "They get a little excited if a younger guy walks in." 

I let her clean up the wound, my heart fluttering nervously. Her touch was more intimate than I was used to, but somehow, she wasn't making me want to run away. Her cheeks reddened further as she continued. "Especially, one like you."

I wondered if she could see my beet-red face in the darkness. I blinked. "Are you flirting with me?" I shook my head. "Because I'm not too familiar with the concept."

Her eyes widened as she laughed, a soft, delicate, open laughter that seemed to warm my chest. "I must admit that is a surprise to me."

She started dabbing the antiseptic onto the open gash on my palm, which now that I saw, was sliced open quite deep. I felt sharp twinges of pain as she slowly tended to the wound. After a while, satisfied with her job, she started applying the gauze on my hand with surprising dexterity. She was done a few moments later, having tied the gauze securely around my hand.

I lifted it up and tried to move my arm, which still stung a bit, but at least I had stopped bleeding. "Wow. Thanks." 

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see another small group of women giggling and looking at the pair of us. Feeling extremely conscious, I forced myself to look at her instead. Before I could say anything, however, one of the women called out. "What's that stuff, Crystal?" 

Crystal didn't acknowledge them at all, and almost immediately, another woman followed up. "Won't you share?"

The women broke into giggles as I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. My skin prickled uncomfortably and I resisted the urge to bolt from there. Crystal rolled her eyes and took a step back. "Maybe it's better if we go inside." She jerked her head towards a derelict building behind her. "Unless you don't want to," her face paled as she bit her lower lip in nervousness.

I hesitated. I had just met her moments ago and had no reason to trust her, and yet, something about her open, honest eyes made me. I nodded almost inconspicuously and looking relieved. She led me to a building behind her amidst wolf whistles and shameless stares. I felt better out of the staring eyes as we entered a dark hallway, and she motioned for me to follow her up the staircase. I gazed at the drab, chipped walls and moss covered roof. 

We stepped on the first landing, and she unlocked a door, stepping into the darkness as she searched around for the switch, finally bathing the room in bright white light. I stepped into the room and gazed around at the scarcely but tastefully decorated apartment. It was a small living room with a loveseat and a television set in front of it. Towards my left was the tiny kitchen and two more doors that would probably lead to the bedroom and the bathroom. Beside the loveseat, the wall was covered head to toe by a huge window which was trying to lure in the nonexistent sunlight.

Crystal walked over to the kitchen counter and busied herself over it. "You're not from here," she observed as she stood on her toes and started fishing around one of the cupboards.

"No," I said, then after debating a bit on the level of honesty I could maintain with her I said, "I'm from Ophelia."

She stopped suddenly and slowly removed the container from the shelf, staring at me, her dark eyes wide. "The capital. Wow. I've always wanted to go there."

Her tone of longing was barely concealed as she sighed loudly. "Our country is really mesmerizing, I hear. Although I've never usually got to see it."

I walked over to the kitchen counter and shrugged. "Yeah, it is. I haven't seen much of it yet either."

"So, are you going to tell me your name, or do I have to keep calling you kiddo, kiddo?"
she asked as she poured milk into a whisker.

"Ezekiel," I replied. "Zeke. Hunt."

She smiled. "That's a beautiful name. I always wish I had a refined name like that, Adrianna or Annalise or something."

"I think Crystal's pretty great," I said. "Suits you somehow." I shrugged as she looked at me.

Her eyes were wide with surprise, glittering gaily before she started laughing. "I guess it does."

"So..." I began, wondering if I was overstepping. "Who was that guy? Whaler?"

She rolled her eyes. "He was a client. A long time ago. Before he started asking for-'' the corner of her mouth twitched upwards as she continued. "Backdoor entry."

I started laughing. She put down the mug she was holding and looked at me, shaking her head. "To be honest it wouldn't matter that much. He's like the size of my thumb."

I laughed harder at her words, and she joined in. Laughing seemed to make all the burning images of the last few days fade into the background, it felt good.

"How much sugar?" she asked, still grinning as she took a spoonful of sugar between her fingers.

"None," I replied.

Sugar had been a luxury back at Geoffrey's household, and I had got used to eating and drinking without it, with the exception of chocolate. She nodded and, after placing two mugs onto a tray, walked over to the table in front of the television. She sat on the floor, leaning against the loveseat and looked up at me. "Coffee?"

I walked over to her and sat a little distance away. We were silent for a while as I picked up the mug and tasted the warm coffee. The foamy froth soothed my throat as I felt a tiny jolt of shock at how good, how warm it felt. "Will he be troubling you more now?" I asked guiltily.

I was wondering if I had gone overboard with Whaler.

She shrugged. "He always does. Maybe this time-'' she grinned mischievously. "I'll tell his wife about his tiny little adventures."

I sat beside her as she spoke again, "You look really young. Are you still in school?"

She glanced at me with polite curiosity.

"Yeah. I am." 

I wondered if I should tell her I was a Nuvue but was glad when she didn't press the matters further. Even though it felt like a foolish question, I asked anyway. "You've...been here your entire life?"

She shook her head and took a deep breath. "I left home ages ago on my own," she smiled. "I did some wacky jobs. You know, once I had the actual job of praising this rich woman every time she wanted. She even had me write songs about her."

She launched into a rant about the different jobs she had held. Each stranger than the last. Somehow her persona mystified me. She seemed so much different than I had expected. Her bright spirit stood out in stark contrast to her drab surroundings. She was like a single lotus growing in the midst of filthy water, which was somehow amplifying her beauty.

I hadn't realized that I had been staring at her and made a conscious effort to look away from her hazel irises. My eyes wandered over to the off white-walls, which had been covered with framed paintings of a variety of things. Nature. People. Animals and even abstract designs that I couldn't make head or tail of. 

Crystal saw me looking and said, "I do a lot of crap like that in my free time."

I glanced back at her. "You like painting?"

She shrugged. "Sure. The people I draw, they're silent," she added a little ruefully at the end. "They don't judge."

She seemed sombre for a split second before she spoke up again. "I also love singing, although I sound like a dying whale."

I choked on the coffee and spluttered a little as she laughed. "I like painting too," I said, finally. "I mean...I did."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. My dad, he's an amazing artist, and I always tried to copy him." 

Her eyes softened. "That's really sweet, Zeke."

Even though my dad hadn't painted for a long time, the long afternoons painting in the palace gardens with him were few of my fondest memories. Whatever I learned was from him. The thought of better days sent a pang through my heart, which I quickly tried to subdue. Dr Newman had also encouraged painting highly, pushing me towards pursuing that hobby, even though most days I didn't find it in myself to do it. 

She took a deep breath and leaned backwards. "I for one, have no idea where my parents are." I looked at her as she smiled somewhat sadly. "I did return, you know. After...everything," her lower lip trembled as she continued. "Once they knew what I had become, they asked me to leave and severed all ties with me. And well...that was that."

I didn't know what to say and took another sip of the coffee. I couldn't believe how easy, how comfortable it was to talk to her. I ironically, would do anything to completely severe ties with my past. The haunting memories were merely shackles anyway. 

"Hey," she said suddenly. "Are you a Nuvue?"

I looked at her, blinking hard. "I-"

"Well, you must be, and I think your power is fire."

"How...how did you deduce that?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "What happened at the bar, how you set Whaler's dirty paws on fire...pure magic."

I thought back to how his shoes had suddenly caught flames, and my heart gave a hopeful little leap. The mixed signals my magic was sending me was somehow making things worse. When the time came, I had no idea which element I would be going for. "I-I don't know. It may have been the late response of the lighter."

She stared at me incredulously.  "Really, Hunt?" 

I shrugged. "Can we not talk about this?" 

She looked at me for a few seconds before leaning backwards. "Okay." She scrunched up her face in an appearance of thinking hard. "Let's talk about, the applications of spectroscopy in biotechnology in the mortal world."

I panicked for a few seconds before realizing that she was joking.

A while later, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost nine. I had been out of the palace for a long time and was starting to get hungry. I was astounded at the comfort I felt with her. My impulsive, intense anxiety that usually accompanied my social situation was reduced significantly with her. Perhaps it was merely her positive persona or the queer parallels I found myself drawing with her. The vicious beast in my chest seemed to be tamed into a much more docile creature. A stranger, but familiar somehow.

I told her I needed to get home soon and she nodded, her eyes darkening slightly before going back to normal. We left the apartment, stepping onto a mercifully empty street. We walked along the dusty road, most of it shrouded in darkness. It was an almost eerie feeling as it reminded me of my own childhood and where I had grown up. We walked in comfortable silence, which was pleasantly surprising for me.  After a while, we reached the bus stand.

"How are you going to return?"

"Just going to take the bus," I answered. She stood quietly, waiting. I noticed her gazing at me from the corner of her eye as my heart fluttered nervously. "What?"

"Your eyes. They are the most beautiful ones I've ever seen. They're...mystical. They remind me of the petals of this flower...Ira," she beamed. "They're fascinating. Much like you."

I felt heat rush up my cheeks and was glad when I was saved the necessity of a reaction by the honking of the arriving bus. She smiled.

"You're a good guy, Zeke." Her cheeks turned pink as she spoke the last few words in a rush. "And, I would love it if you could come back here sometime."

I looked at her for a few moments. Taking in her long, platinum hair and her rebellious outfit. And somehow I knew why she needed to look so fierce. Because underneath it all she was not. I smiled at her and nodded.

"I would love it too."

The weight of guilt increased indefinitely in my stomach as I slowly climbed on board. I glanced back at her and waved. I couldn't see her face completely under the shadow of the streetlight, but her lips were pulled upwards in a small smile.

I took a window seat at the far end, feeling people's stares dig into me again. My eyes had always made me a freak, their colour like the poisonous Ira. However, Crystal had said they were beautiful.

And that made my heart fill with warmth.