Shards of frosted glass littered the alleyway. It made a change from the normal large pile of rubbish that would normally cover the ground, but the glass wasn’t exactly reassuring. In the middle of the broken glass was a confused, dazed, young, Rethan-like being that probably shouldn’t have been there.
At first, Frienir wasn’t sure whether to go closer or not. Drunk Threan-type Rethans were common around here, but the one lying unconscious in the alley didn’t look normal. Heck, even winged Threan-types were pretty common. Many powerful Rethans were whisked here back when the KSA initiative was at its peak and they created families of pure Threan-types.
But this one was different. They looked… mutated. New and old at the same time. Their armour was much more streamlined, much sharper, much pointier than that of a normal Threan-type. But they looked too sharp to be a Hertan-type, and they were far too small to be a Standard-type Rethan.
All he had to do was make sure the vok was alive.
“Are… Are you okay?”
The being suddenly sat upright, making Frienir jump.
“What… Where am I?”
On closer inspection, the being seemed… alien. Not a Rethan at all. They mostly looked the part, but their scent was off.
“Uuh…” Frienir hesitated. “You’re… in an alleyway.”
“An alleyway where?”
Clearly the being was disorientated. They definitely seemed drunk. Or at least hung over.
“An alleyway in Tuskan, Hertany.”
“Ah piss…”
The being fell silent and started staring at its feet. Frienir shrugged and was about to talk away. But he changed his mind. He HAD to ask this being what it was.
“So… Who are you?”
The being continued to stare at its feet.
“Are you a Rethan?”
“I… Yeah… I’m a Rethan…” There was uncertainty in his voice. “At least, I… I think I still am…” Finally, they looked up at Frienir. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t answer your question. My name… I’m Veeyel…”
“I’m Frienir. Are you drunk?”
Again, Veeyel stared at his feet. “No. I can’t drink.”
“You seem drunk.”
“I’m not drunk!” Veeyel snapped. “Sorry… I’m just lost. Can you help me up please?”
Frienir did as he was asked. Veeyel seemed genuinely surprised though once he got on his feet. As if he hadn’t walked properly in a long time. On his back was a pair of wings, as pointy and sharp as the rest of him.
“Nice wings.”
“I don’t…” Veeyel paused mid-sentence and glanced over his shoulders. “Oh. I do have wings.”
Frienir shook his head. Clearly this Veeyel bloke was either ill or lying about being drunk. No matter what, he genuinely had a problem.
“I think you should come with me…” Frienir sighed as he watched Veeyel wobble around.
“Are you a member of the Astynom?” Veeyel’s angry tone swiftly returned.
“No!” Frienir protested. “It’s just… you have no idea where you are, you look pale, you didn’t notice that you have wings and you can barely walk. Plus you’re obviously miles away from home.”
Veeyel sighed. But his sigh turned into panic when he realised his wristbands were missing. He fell to the ground and started desperately searching for them among the glass shards. He was completely oblivious to the many scratches and cuts he was causing himself. After realising that Veeyel wasn’t going to stop harming himself, Frienier grabbed him by the arms and pulled him away.
“ARE YOU INSANE? YOU’RE HURTIN- wait…”
As soon as they’d formed, Veeyel’s injuries were healing up and fading away. Frienir let go and backed away.
“You’re… one of those Cassid-made mistakes?”
“No…” Veeyel gave up and leaned against a wall, away from the glass. “I… I don’t know what I am… I was somewhere else. With my friends. And now I’m here…”
Frienir tutted. “Well your friends aren’t here. Why don’t you come back to my place for a bit? We can get you cleared up, get you a drink and work out what to do.”
Veeyel rubbed his face, then got up. He didn’t really have any other options.
“That is very kind of you… er… what is your name?”
“You can call me Frienir.”
“Thank you, Frienir…”