Those Lovely Shards (BXB)

Chapter Three

Dove wandered through the bustling marketplaces, his heart was heavy with the weight of the curious stares thrown his way. He wondered if the people sensed his inner turmoil, the constant struggle to find his place in the city he called home.

Dove yearned for a sense of belonging, a connection to the vibrant tapestry of Kestramore. He wanted to make a difference, to leave a lasting impact on the lives of its inhabitants. Yet, amidst the peculiar stares, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find his true purpose in this enigmatic city of mystery and enchantment.

To understand the problem better, he checked out his reflection in a small puddle nearby.

Warmth tinged his cheeks as he adjusted the dark red satin cloak, ensuring it draped securely over his shoulders. His attention to detail reflected a desire for composure, even amidst the peculiar stares.

He bit his bottom lip, something he did when he felt anxious, his gaze fell over his dark pants encasing his legs and rested at the curve of his hips casually. He fidgeted with a leather belt holding the fabric flush against his skin.

He swallowed thickly as his eyes trailed ahead captivated by the beauty of his city.

Kestramore was the heart of Cascadia; it was known as the city of mystery, the city of enchantment, and the place where the market thrived.

The city was bustling and life was good.

The marketplace was bustling with energy, all the vendors had done a marvelous job decorating stalls. They were calling out random customers from the streets and persuading them to buy from their shops.

The marketplace sold anything and everything from daily rations to the most exotic perfume scents and exquisite pearls.

A smile graced Dove's face as he observed the people bustling around him. His attention was drawn to a captivating painting in a nearby gallery booth. In the artwork, a cluster of birds engaged in a struggle over a sunlit, glistening fragment of food. The scene unfolded, revealing intricate details—a tapestry of forests, lofty mountains, cascading waterfalls, ethereal clouds in the vast sky, men traversing hilly paths, and birds soaring through the air.

The painter stepped closer, pointing towards the painting. "Sir, behold this fine piece of art, tailor-made for someone like you. I offer it to you for a mere ten bronze kruches, my best offer!"

Dove peeked closely at the painting when he heard soft sniffling. He was momentarily distracted and wanted to find the source of this sound. As Dove stepped outside the stall, the painter begged him to return promising a further discount on the price, and then cursed at the thought of losing a potential customer.

Dove edged closer to a dark alley. He drew up his cloak closer and adjusted it, sheltering the top of his head when something caught his eye. He crept forward, frightened but curious. "Hello?"

He moved closer. He made a disgusted face when he accidentally stepped into a slimy trash. "Is someone there? Don't worry, I'm only here to help, I won't hurt you."

Two small kids barely over five crept out from the trash barrels, probably siblings. The boy, who looked younger, was weeping. His sister stepped forward and pulled her tattered hijab a little tighter, like a nervous habit, like she was fidgeting.

Their fear stirred his compassion. He noticed that they were afraid of the people around them.

Dove knelt on the floor and leaned in closer towards the little boy who still kept sniffling while clutching his sister's hand and hiding behind her.

Dove knelt down, his voice gentle as he asked, "Little ones, where are your parents?" His heart ached as he realized the answer they might give.

The girl looked down and answered a beat later, "We don't have them."