My Wish at the End of the World

Under the Evening Sun

CW Talk of fire

I stand up, inspecting the hut more, questions still swirling through my mind, distracting me and causing me to look off absentmindedly every so often. Even so, I continue my search for a small while around the hut, but there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. It's strange that kids store playthings here, but that most likely has a normal explanation.

Now that I'm considering the hut while looking at it, some questions surfaced I somehow hadn't thought to ask. How has the hut stayed standing for so long? It wasn't mentioned in any of the fairly skeletal reports I had found on it, so I assume it was some sort of mundane explanation. Perhaps the researchers somehow reinforced and preserved it, so the archaeologists would have an easier time working on it. There might be non-magical means to do so, but even if there weren't surely there's some sort of magical rune or spell that could protect it? Even if normal weathering hasn't affected it, surely it should have burned down at some point? The only fuel for any such fire is the surrounding wooden tops of houses, which are spaced a decent distance from the hut, and wildfires are rare in deserts if I remember correctly, which would mean there wouldn't be much danger of fire. The city, or at least the wooden parts, haven't been here most of the hut's life as well, so even considering the danger from the surrounding houses there shouldn't be much danger. The surrounding wall should also have protected from any outside fires, although how dense the brush and trees are I can't know, since I never had the chance to see anything outside of the small window. Both weathering and fire could have posed a danger to the hut, albeit an unlikely one.

I sigh, placing the question to the side for later. If I'm lucky it will be answered in my current reading list, although I don't hold out much hope, having been disappointed too many times on my journey. Everywhere has unanswered questions. It's normal, despite how disappointing it is.

I think back in my memories. People tended to look at me strangely. I wouldn't quite place it as unfriendly, but certainly guarded and untrusting. There were a few exceptions, the most notable of which being some groups of kids. There were some kids who looked at me with the same hardened eyes as the adults, but in general they looked more trusting, and intrigued. At least intrigued enough to listen to a story. I laugh wryly, kicking at the dirt and self-consciously putting a hand up to my unpierced ears.

A deep breath later and I look up. So this would be like most other small cities. The children would test the waters, being more trusting, and the adults may follow later, trusting more gradually. Hopefully that progresses quickly, since I have no money. Most kids aren't trusted to carry any amount of coins on them, and unfortunately money is a requirement for living in this world, so I'll need to rely on that hope, or fall back on John's offer.

I decide where to set up, a street corner near the town square that children seemed to run back to a few times, and walk there, puffing up my chest and smiling largely, my eyes crinkling upwards and my cheeks lifting, a performer's grin refined over years.  This persona fits well, familiar and some part of me that my normal life doesn't show.

I reach the corner, picking from my repertoire of stories as I go, and bend downwards with a sweeping motion. I grab my cap as it falls off, grasping the feather in between two fingers and set it upside down on the ground, slipping the feather behind my ear.

A few kids stop and look at me strangely, one in particular with a perplexed and confused grin, likely the group's leader as much as one exists.

"Aht, what are you doing?" the kid asks. The flamboyance of that setup generally intrigues at least one, which I'm thankful for, as I find it quite awkward to start telling my story with no audience aside from the ones who could not care either way. The flamboyance itself was something that I used to feel awkward performing, but I found that leaning into the over the top nature of it helped, so I simply did it more.