The Beast

Chapter Sixteen

Tigo Bay was a relatively new port, but it's success soon transformed it from a short, scenic stop into a hub of trade and commerce, where people from all corners of the world met and did business with one another, their merchandise ranging from goods to gossip.

The day was halfway through when Ylvir arrived, and much like his visit to the village, his keen senses were brutally assaulted by the many sights, smells and sounds of the port, but this time it did not surprise him nor did it overwhelm him. He had donned his new cloak, boots and gloves as soon as he was close, and quickly found himself lost in the throng of things, in the midst of multitudes of people.

The smells were intense; the food's mouth-watering, the sweat rank, the many perfumes heady, the sea salty. There was plenty to see as well, with assorted colors of cloths that ranged from being as dark as his own to flashy ones that instantly attracted the eye. Dirt and water lined the streets with mud that found its way onto many residents, but Ylvir would also catch flashes of jewels and gold, glittering as they caught sunlight. Many different animals plodded down the roads, some of which Ylvir had never before seen, most of them carrying a load whether in the form of a person or a cart wheeled behind them.

As he continued to wander aimlessly, he paid even more attention to the people around him. They were all shapes and sizes and colors. Some were energetic, some somber, and even a few Ylvir found to be quite menacing. They wore all manner of things from rags to rings, but what fascinated him most was the different tongues in which they spoke. He had never before heard any language other than his own, and to hear so many speak in a number of others was something that truly boggled his mind.

He took everything he could in, gazing at all the persons he passed, wondering constantly about who they really were, what they liked or disliked, what they aspired to, what sequence of events had brought them to this place. And secretly he wondered if maybe they were just as accepting as Igleck and the others. He hoped so, if only so that he wouldn't think each of them as an enemy to himself, for he knew that if he did he would quickly find himself vastly outnumbered and completely overwhelmed.

He remained purely observant, never once moving to interact with the people. He wished to avoid any possibility of triggering a raging fit. Even if he hadn't felt any signs of it since the festival, his dream and Lynelda's cautionary words refrained him from being too presumptuous about his unique condition. The fact that no one moved to interact with him either gave him mixed feelings. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Through the many sounds of voices, shuffles, clatters, bells and bangs, Ylvir's ears pricked beneath his hood as he made out the muffled sounds of music in the distance. It too reminded him of the festival, with the jovial symphony winding its merry way through the streets. He didn't think twice before he followed it's trail to the source, dodging people and objects along the way.

It didn't take long before he came to a gathering he could not so easily dodge. Thanks to his larger stature than most people, he was able to see for himself what they gathered round, even if the sounds already gave it away.

A large circle had been formed by people in the middle of the street, a small section of it consisting of musicians that were reddened by their energetic playing. The rest of those around the circle clapped in time to the beat of the happy jaunt, and in the middle they met to dance. Ylvir's gaze was instantly caught by the strange, mystifying movements that captured the spirit of the music and transformed in into something new, though not completely separate. He had read of dancing. He had even asked his mother to explain it to him, to which she replied that it was a magical experience. He knew right then she had been absolutely correct.

But there was one who stood out from the rest, and not just for her wild red hair. Ylvir was completely mesmerized by the young girl who danced with a grace that belied her ragged appearance. Her limbs moved in perfect synchrony with the music, her every action conveying her youthful energy, just as untamed as her scarlet curls. The glimpses he caught of her vibrant eyes dazzled him with their excitement, and her brilliant smile was incredibly infectious. While the others enjoyed the tune, Ylvir could clearly see this girl lived and breathed for it. From then on, Ylvir had eyes only for her.