Chapter II | Plastic Sands

Year 690 a.S., Summer | City Pyraleia, the Capital

It was a hot Tuesday in the thick of summer. The short school break had just ended, and Tristan’s quiet afternoons on this particular bench in Layer 2 ended with it. Fallryn Academy chirped from the inside out with the minds of scholars, aged fourteen to twenty-two. In other words, it was a place he no longer belonged. Missed by a few years.

It didn’t bother him. Tristan now found himself in a tidy government job as the Minister of Transport, lowborn though he was. Before, it seemed like no one had anything better to talk about than that. That was before he was chosen to head the Sea Train Project. It was before he completed it in less than a year. Suddenly, a commute to their sister city of Vergalis—which once took twelve days—was cut down to a mere twelve hours. It was a new truth that would forever alter the political landscape between the cities.

And it was true he didn’t belong at Fallryn Academy, but he found it too interesting to observe to stay away. He didn’t mind the lack of quiet. The quiet unnerved him.

The bell rang and the young scholars flooded out from the doors, dressed in the same monotonous colors as always. If it weren’t for the fall orange accents, it would have been just a sea of black with flecks of skin and faces. Either way, it was one face in particular he searched for now. The face of Claude Morsylis. It was one he had recognized since he first started to visit this place, but one he never paid very much attention to until recently. It hadn’t yet been announced publicly that the boy had been named heir, but those on the inside such as Tristan knew.

According to his observations, Claude was a kid who mostly kept to himself. He had dozens of acquaintances, but no close friends of note. Tristan placed his hand atop the tall black box he always brought with him. He wasn’t all too different himself. But today, something was different. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes when a girl he didn’t recognize pulled into the prince’s space to speak with him. She had a bounce in her step and almost danced around him to grab his attention. Claude pretended to not notice her. Tristan felt tempted to take to his feet and follow them, but his pocket buzzed.

His phone. A reminder about his meeting with the Duke of Vergalis. He glanced between his phone and the two, struggling to decide which to choose, but regained his sense and walked off for this meeting.

And Lana continued to bug Claude.

“You were so dashing today,” she said. “Did you see how all the girls swooned?”

“They did no such thing.”

Lana bumped into him with her shoulder. “Oh I know. No girl but me.”

“Shut up,” he said, but she continued on in a teasing, cloying manner until he had to clamp his hand over her mouth. “Did you hear that?”

She pried his hand off. “Nothing but the sound of your balls dropping.”

He ignored her and listened a little longer before marching himself back to the academy building. His hand brushed against her shoulder as he turned back, and knocked her off her feet. She landed on her bottom again, but gracefully pulled her legs in and pushed back up and pretended as if she hadn’t fallen. Or like she was used to falling.

Claude didn’t notice. He continued on into the school building and up the stairs to the right until the third floor, then down the hall a little until he found them. Three boys and two girls, all on the younger side. Lana was almost out of breath by the time she caught up, and it wasn’t immediately apparent what was wrong with the scene. But Claude slammed his boot onto the hardwood floor and shook the entire hall to its core.

The kids’ quiet, silly banter ceased, and their faces sunk when they saw Claude there. Drowned in less than two inches, a tiny guilt that could barely be noticed. But Lana noticed it. The face of the tallest boy didn’t change, though. He was the only one. And the only one to stare back at Claude. Still confused, Lana stepped closer, but Claude’s work was done and he turned back without a word. Reluctantly, Lana followed him again, but glanced back at the kids for one last chance to figure it out. Three boys, two girls. Was it bullying? But they all seemed like close friends. A few of them were already smiling again, including the tall boy. Something like drugs, then? But their hands were empty.

She wrinkled her brow and her head was starting to hurt, so she gave up. For the briefest of moments, she considered asking Claude himself what that whole thing was about, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She always regretted never asking.