We exited the temple and back onto the tiered steps around half an hour before noon, taking in the pounding sun. Even with the winds at this height sweeping by, sweat slicked my back, seeping into the white fabric and making my suspenders glisten. "Why did we have to leave before noon?" I would have much preferred the cooled interior of the temple, but Johnny had insisted that we hurry out after meeting Derrick.
"You're aware of the temple's daily tradition?"
I nodded. "The Unburdening? I didn't look into it, but I know what it is."
"Then as you know, the Brilliance value light, and purity. To cleanse themselves of their sins, they 'unburden' their garments, letting the noon sun purify their souls." He shot me a glance, "And I don't feel the need to see Derrick 'unburdened.'"
My frustratingly vivid imagination shot itself in the foot, burning that image into my mind. "Thank you."
"Be glad it's only in the temple." As we descended the stairs, we arrived at a tier of the pyramid dedicated solely to stalls, booths and pop-up shops, creating a sprawling market of ecclesiastics. Johnny gestured to the mess of stalls. "You should grab something to eat."
"I don't have any money."
He grunted. "C'mon, you haven't eaten, and I need you to have energy." His starkly juxtaposing black and white form stuck out as he began to wade through the crowd. Trailing behind him, I weaved through the crowd of resplendent robes.
A hand grabbed my sleeve, a powerful man's voice booming over the hubbub, "Boy! Are you in need of any hand carved effigies? We sell the cheapest in the market!"
I waved the bearded man away, quickly dodging three more deft attempts at snaring my business. Johnny spun back and placed a hand on my shoulder, a thin mist spreading from his coat and wrapping my body. Saying nothing, he continued navigating the crowd.
Now however, it was as if I was a ghost. Nobody's eyes settled on me, nobody reached out or called to me, and people didn't react when I pushed past. A strange serenity settled on my shoulders, a disconnect from reality like I was somehow separate. Johnny finally stopped before a small, unpopular awning.
Golden poles supported a white canvas, neatly folded and tucked to perfection. The table was simple and wooden, stacked high with tiered shelves of a singular type of pastry I hadn't seen before. Reclining in the shade sat an old man in a rocking chair, his skin weathered and drooping. His eyes were foggy, and he had large glasses that made him look bug-eyed.
"James?" The man croaked, leaning forward.
"It's Johnny, Delphain." He glanced around at the busier booths. "Still struggling with customers?"
"Bah, I have my regulars." The man waved him off, rising to his feet in a painfully slow, multiple step process. He rummaged under the table, retrieving two thin paper bags. "What brings you to Offering?"
"Got a kid with me." He nodded in my direction, "Donovan, this is Delphain."
"Hello." I nodded, and realized as I made my presence known, the thin mist clinging to my body slipped away, dispersing back into the air.
"Oh!" Delphain squinted, adjusting his glasses. "Sorry lad, I hardly saw you! Ah-Legoria must've shielded you from my gaze." He chuckled warmly, picking up a pastry with a pair of tongs.
"Do you only make… these? What are they?" I stared at the breaded semi-sphere, wary of street food.
"Dawn puffs? Not from around here, are ya? Makes sense if you're with James." He chuckled. "They're on the house, even if it's against the way of the Brilliance."
"Delphain…" Johnny sighed. "You know the boss won't accept that. You've—"
"My other regulars will pay me. I make a living, so shoo. Enjoy." He sat back down, casting his gaze away as if to say he would hear no complaints.
Johnny turned away, spreading his mist back to me and a few coins he'd left on the table so they'd stay concealed long enough for us to escape the confrontation. Smart. With that, we each grabbed our puffs, and exited the market, walking down to a small, relatively empty square.
Like the others, the color themes remained prevalent, and the religious iconography of Ah-Legoria and Vivianne remained omnipresent. We sat on a bench facing the rippling crystalline liquid, letting the cold wind ruffle our clothes. I couldn't help but cast my gaze skyward, watching as a cloud slowly made its way across the horizon.
"My emotions…" I started, taking a bite of the puff. The tart citrus tastes of lemon and orange mixed in a creamy filling, working with the breaded exterior to make me falter. My eyes widened, looking down at the pastry. "I… that is good."
Johnny smiled faintly. "It's my— the bosses' favorite." He took a bite of his own, closing his eyes as he relished the flavor. "You were saying?"
"Yes. Sorry." I stared intently down at the puff, desperately resisting the urge to take yet another bite. "I wanted to say… thank you. I'd either be a mess, dead or a monster. I felt betrayed, but… you did the right thing." I clenched my spare fist at my side. "I don't think I'd have to do the strength otherwise."
"You would've." He shook his head, taking another bite. "Just might have been a challenge to find on your own."
I raised it to my lips. "I just never—"
A deafening explosion ripped through the air, making my ears ring and my shirt flutter violently from the sheer pressure. I dove to the ground, dropping the puff as panic coursed through my veins. No, no, fuck, no. I trembled on the ground, my eyes wet with tears. With one ragged breath after another, I finally regained my footing, rising with shaking legs.
Only a block or two away, smoke rose in a plume and orange licks of fire scorched the horizon just like… I pushed the thought away, pleading to Johnny for guidance with my eyes. "What— How… here?"
He hadn't moved— aside from leaning back to look up at the plume of smoke. He sat on the bench as undisturbed as ever. "Huh, that's odd," he muttered, taking another bite of his puff. Only then did I glance at the ground in sorrow, realizing mine had fallen. "Terrorists, maybe?" He looked back at me, as if that answered my question.
"Are you going to… I don't know. Isn't your job to um, fight this?" I waved at the plume frantically.
"No, my job is to help you." He took another bite, "I said it once, and I'll say it again. We aren't saints, nor are we heroes."
A sweaty man bolted around the corner, his greasy black hair with a tragic hairline was slicked back and dripping with sweat, fluttering behind him as he ran. He wore an ecstatic, deranged grin and raggedy, purple, baggy, robe-like athletic wear. A small black device was clenched in his hand, blurring up and down as he pumped his arms.
The terrorist?! My mind raced, heart pounding in my chest as my hands shook at my sides. I turned to Johnny, sweat stinging my eyes. "H-he's right there. Can't you take him out?!"
Johnny scanned the man as he ran past, then turned back to me. "If you want to go after him, I won't stop you. He can't see us yet."
"But… what about the Legionnaires?"
"Slow, and he's already almost out of sight."
My hands felt clammy as they clenched and unclenched at my sides. "B-but it's dangerous… I could—"
He sighed. "I won't let you die." With that, he finished his puff and rose to his feet. "But remember, it's your choice."
Then, his form grew hazy and as I glanced around for Johnny, I couldn't find him. When I focused, I could faintly get the impression he was nearby, but that was all. Fuck! I locked onto the back of the man's head and took a deep breath. Aided by what I'd come to realize was Johnny's emotional manipulation, I took a trembling step toward him, breaking into a haphazard sprint. If I want to find my mom… this is nothing. A precursor. That simple thought made each step feel as if I was being carried a little farther.