The next morning came, uneventful as always. The exploits of the previous day had taken a heavy toll on Dante's energy levels, infact it took his uncle's banging on the closed door to wake him up. He jumped up, still in his Cresseydian single suit, skin blotched silver and brown, hair resembling a sea urchin. The bedroom window was wide open, and the wet mud of the garden below still held his footprints.

Yawning and wiping the drool off his chin, he responded,"What is it?"

The man outside banged the door again. "It's nine already, Dan, get out of your bed. The customers have started to arrive, and we're out of cheese! I'm going to the market, and if you don't come out in five minutes–"

"You won't be around." He yawned again."Right, Uncle Pedro?"

"Ey, don't tempt me to break this door, boy. Get out within five."

The sound of footsteps tapping against the wooden stairs gradually merged with the sound of the air conditioner in his room. Dante found his messy comforter and the soft pillow to be more attractive than the people who'd be waiting for their sandwiches downstairs. But he stumbled out of bed and walked to the bathroom, wondering what would be on the news.

Where did I keep that paint remover now?

No, that's my toothpaste.

Ah, damn it, the soap's nearly over. I'll tell Uncle Pedro.

Okay, I'm done, now for the skin moisturizer.

That better not be a pimple. Holy shit!

Damn you silver paint!

Slipping on his favorite T-shirt, jacket and a pair of jeans, he dashed outside, careful to lock the door of his room behind him. The old wooden staircase creaked under his feet on every single step, making him wonder whether the local wood-moth population had grown immune to the insecticide.

His Aunt Rita was busy whipping up treats in the kitchen, while his Uncle handled the counter, helping the customers choose an item. He slowly snuck into the kitchen near the staircase, hoping that his uncle hadn't heard him come down. His sneakers made no sound as he creeped up behind Rita, wanting to surprise her while she was mixing the dough for madeline cakes.

He grinned as he took in a deep breath.

"You heard about the Eterian bomb blast in the Princess' medical camp? Heard that a certain someone had been outside last night," said Aunt Rita while she whisked the concoction in the bowl.

"Uh, who me?" He asked, wondering how she had heard him approach.

How much does she know?

Then again, Aunt Rita was full of surprises herself.

"That stable boy came here today, Dan, he's quite grateful for the dinner. He's outside right now, talking to Pearl-of-my-eyes. You know, the girl whom you've been avoiding ever since she had asked you out?"

Dante frowned. "You simply had to drag that in, huh?"

He opened the fridge, and took out the orange juice kept inside. It was meant for the customers, but Dante usually drank a glass or two without his uncle's knowledge.

"Dan, how many hearts have you broken till now?" Rita laughed as she scooped the dough into the baking trays, "And come to think of it, tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Just accept her proposal, alright? It's not nice to reject someone on the day of love."

"Bleh," said Dante."You're so cheesy. No, it's not that I don't like her, she's my friend; I'm just not ready to get into a relationship yet. I don't know how to explain this to you."

Rita stopped pouring, placed the bowl down and glared at him, arms folded.

He sighed. "Sheesh. Uh, you see, I'm not sure whether I'm mature enough to take care of her and keep her happy."

Rita nodded. "Sounds fair."

"I want to go home and get that degree in chemistry and learn more. And one day, when I think I'm ready, I'll marry a girl whom I'd love and take care of and who'd love my children and me forever."

"All mothers love their children, Dante. You should be worried about her loving you once you're bald and old," Rita joked while she tapped the baking tray, allowing the dough to fit snugly into the moulds.

Dante rolled up his sleeves and walked to the kitchen sink. The generous amount of handwashing seemed to do the trick when it came to removing leftover spots of paint.

"Queen Ryumi tried to kill one of her own sons just so that he wouldn't claim the throne. Correct me if I'm wrong, but she too is a mother. My wife loving me is the least of my worries."

He finished the glass of orange juice kept on the counter nearby and began washing the glass in the sink.

Rita huffed, walked to the oven and turned it on.

"He wasn't the present king's son, that prince. At least, that's what the councilmen say. Ryumi wanted to kill the child born out of wedlock to save her honor. His name had been wiped off records and he's presently living with his father, or so is the rumor."

"Good for him, then. That's one less person the crown prince has to murder to get the throne. Aunt, what's the news on the explosion?"

Rita shook her head and sighed.

"Eteria and Cresseydia have called for an emergency peace conference tonight, the Queen herself will be coming here along with her family to discuss the safety of her citizens residing here. They'd also discuss the Guardian who caused the blasts and his connection to Terra. They've imposed a curfew so, you might have to stop visiting the stable workers and giving them food; they'd jail us without trail."

"I can make it back in time," He replied with a grin, "All I have to do is steal the maglev."

"No stealing our owner's maglev bike. If it weren't for her, we'd still be digging ekumi dung!"

"Not that it has made any difference, Aunt. We're just glorified slaves; we don't get paid for making terran 'delicacies', we cook here from morning till evening and then we go cook in her house. We can't take leaves, even when we're sick."

"You should be thankful that she gave you a roof over your head and freedom after sunset. You get free food, while others have to beg and steal for it."

If we had been on Terra, at least we would have had the freedom to live and die in the land of our birth. Not rot away in some world, at the mercy of an alien's whip or bowing and bending at their whims.

I wonder how many human children have grown up here, thinking that the sun is blue and that we have three moons?

I wonder how many of them know how to speak their mother tongue. Cresseydian language being forced down their throats just so that they could boss us around.

Eteria will be your destruction.

"Dan, honey could you help me with the tray? Blue-eyed-maiden wants a thousand of them to be ready by sunset for the peace conference."

"A thousand?" He said, as he lifted the tray and kept it in the oven. "She wants to kill us by exhaustion. Why did the Guardian have to mention Terra?"

>°<

The motley of beings leaning over the reception, sipping drinks while chatting on the tables and waiting for their parcels outside included people of two worlds. Terra and Cresseydia. And when Eterian boy with a heavy bag appeared at their doorstep, he was greeted by curious looks.

He smiled ever so slightly and quietly let himself in, barely managing to stand upright under the weight of his traveller's bag. Dante was busy having his pockets emptied by a girl at the less crowded reception.

"Max, I swear. . ."

"Where is the photo? There's this seriously cute guy in it, I promise."

"I don't have the photo!"

She glared at him.

"What, but you had it just this morning! Hand it over or I'm telling mom."

Dante his lip in exasperation; his cousin had been nagging him for a photo of a terran boy band. And the little blackmailer had found out about his presently waning crush on the lead singer.

He wasn't ready to come out of the closet yet and Max had decided to use that to further her needs.

"Excuse me, can I get a sandwich?" asked a rather soft voice.

Dante smiled as he turned to face the customer. The boy didn't return the gesture and immediately averted his eyes. Dante's smile turned forced from natural.

"What would you like as the filling, sir? We have tuna, cheese. . ."

"I'll have the special." The boy stated, rubbing his chin while reading the little blackboard hung on a stand nearby.

Dante bit his tongue, remembering that he had forgotten to check that. He bent over the counter to take a look, cursing the sun's mid-morning glare.

His wet hands offered little to no friction, and before he knew it, they slipped over the fine veneer.

If it hadn't been for the two hoodie covered arms propping him up, his jaw would've been broken at multiple places. The stranger's eyes met his, and Dante found them to resemble rubies in both hue and luminiscence.

A sliver of vermillion dragon skin on his forehead, visible through her red hair made bile rise to his throat. But the concern for him was evident in the Eterian's features. It surprised Dante.

Eterians generally hate us 'filth' touching them. Didn't this guy get the memo?

Why the heck is he apologising?

Stop it, it's not gonna make me like you. You're just pretending to be all nice and polite, you'll murder us if given the opportunity.

Time seemed to go at a slower pace than before. The Eterian finally smiled as he helped him get back, the warmth of his gesture spreading to his eyes.

>°<

A/N: Aaaand cut! Thank you for reading! 😁❤️