Solo Nothing Special

[Calado Ceann]

Midday, 3rd of Fall, 515 A.V.

The odor of Stormhold was the first obstacle Cal had to conquer during his first few days back inside the soaring stone walls of Syliras. He was used to the clean, fresh air of Mithryn; which Cal guessed would now be filled with the forlorn scent of a passing summer. Back at his home, the wind would be carrying the last, melancholic breath of flowers far past their bloom who've finally yielded to the oncoming chill of Autumn. How he yearned to once again walk among those sweeping plains of golden grain, shimmering in the softly-sweet breezes the youth was so accustomed to. To walk through the market and see the sun-kissed faces of his hard-working neighbors. To look up and see the brilliant blue sky or the ink-black night, not the oppressive gray which flickered fiercely in the torchlight.

Sighing, Cal shook such thoughts from his mind. He was here now, and though he wished otherwise, he would have to learn to deal with that fact. For all its rustic beauty, those familiar hills held no future for Cal or his family. His father's failing health tore through their already meager supply of Mizas, and it was up to Cal to ensure that his parents were able to survive on his wage alone. Cal would not abandon his parents to a life of poverty just so that he could live in satisfaction at the Mithryn Outpost. No, his parents raised him better than that. Taught him the value of family and of friends. Made sure he knew that if he worked hard enough, Cal could make his fortune in whatever city held his fancy. Syliras would be the place he put that theory to the test.

Besides, it was not like Cal was a total stranger the cobbeled streets of Stormhold Castle. Though it had been a few years since his last visit to the self-proclaimed 'bastion of civilization, Cal had found not much had changed in his absence. All it took was just a bit of practice to re-familiarize himself with the twisting labyrinthine of the city's streets, and Cal was sure that Syliras would start to feel like home.

It proved this mindset which led the youth to his current wandering. Cal had decided to dedicate the afternoon to re-learning the various districts which marked the city of Syliras. Starting out near what he now knew as the Bittern District, Cal let his feet take him throughout the city without any real purpose or direction. Cal figured to truly get to know the city, he would have to find his own way of navigating the streets without the use of a map. As his strong legs took confident strides throughout the twisting streets of Syliras, Cal made a mental effort to remember the more telling landmarks which separated one district from the next.

Stopping at the edge of one of the rare open-air bazaars that the stronghold offered, Cal let the oncoming din of the busy, crowded air wash over him. Cal found it often helped him acclimatize to the new sights and sounds he experienced on a now daily basis to just take a moment and breath it all in. The angry clamor of a merchant arguing with a customer, the odd clash of colors as styles from lands far beyond his own mixed with the common style of Sylirans, even the motley mash of smells as fresh air crashed into city stink, Cal embraced the entire sensory experience with a crooked smile and an appreciative attitude. However, one distinctive sound shook the youth from his open atmosphere, causing his head to swivel towards the origin. It was faint and small, but the sound still raged quietly against the oncoming waves of uproar which erupted out of the market. As Cal grew closer, a small frown settled on his usually caring face. The sound tugged at his heartstrings, drawing the man closer as if it were a siren song and he its willing victim.

Kneeling down to meet the sorrowful source's eyes, Cal found himself next to a sobbing little boy with not a parent in sight.

[Calado Ceann]

The now near silent sobs shook the child as sound fled from his mouth, tears streaming down his face in a dejected downpour. His hair was tangled in an untamed mess of tawny brown, and even as the child's eyes ran red with strain, Cal could see the emerald green shine bright and brilliant before him. The child was garbed in clothes entirely too large for his small frame, the raiment which the child adorned speckled with patches and obviously worn through use. All and all, the small boy bore a rather raggedy appearance, and Cal would gamble that either his parents were in a financial situation rather similar to his own, or that he had none to speak of.

Either way, Cal's previous goal of reacquainting himself with the winding alleyways and solid-stone streets which marked Syliras was all but forgotten. It was a habit of his, perhaps a bad one if one asked his father, to involve himself in the troubles of others. Be it simple or sad, dark or delightful, Cal had an urge to know what was going on in the lives of others. Perhaps it was this reason that the youth so enjoyed being a bartender, the profession of both his father and himself. Where else did one have the chance to learn so much about a person, what drove them to revelry or what forced them to drown their sorrows, than on the serving side of the bar? Regardless of the reason, when Cal saw a chance to lend an ear to someone who needed it, he jumped at the chance.

Forcing his footsteps to fall silent on the rough cobble beneath him, Cal took careful steps towards the child. He moved with concerned precision, as if he were approaching a wounded animal and not wishing to frighten it into fleeing. When his slow steps ghosted nearer to the sobbing lad, Cal dropped into a low crouch to meet the kid eye-to-eye. The boy, too absorbed in whatever drove him to tears, failed even to notice the presence of another. Rolling his eyes slightly and twisting his mouth into a humorous smirk, Cal began a motion that his mother often did when he failed to pay attention. The youth gathered a shallow breath and pursed his lips into an "O" shape, letting the air whistle out in a sharp tone in front of the boy.

The child's head snapped up in surprise, his blood-shot eyes darting wildly in panic. Cal only chuckled in response, grinning in an attempt to placate him.

"Hey kid, you mind if I sit here?" Cal asked with a smile in his voice, pointing to a spot adjacent where the child was sitting.

The boy began to stand as if to dart away from the sudden appearance of a stranger, but stopped mid-stand. Perhaps it was Cal's smile that put him at ease, or perhaps it was just the fact that Cal was the type of person that one was inexplicably inclined to trust, but the child just sat back down, rubbed his eyes, and gave a simple nod.

Cal calmly sat down in the spot next to the boy, reclining his head against the hard stone in a motion of relief. The kid was still sniffling, whatever was bothering him not dissipating in the appearance of a new person, albeit at a quieter level. Turning his head slightly and placing his hand out in customary greeting, Cal began to introduce himself.

"My name's Cal, nice to meet you," the youth began, grabbing the smaller hand that was offered in response to the gesture.

"Avan, l-likewise," the child replied in a small, somewhat frightened voice.

Cal nodded in reply, letting a small silence wash over the pair as he decided how to proceed next.

"So, Avan, what are you doing here all by yourself? Where are your parents?"

At the mention of parents, Avan went rigid and quiet. A pained look washed over his face, and Cal mentally kicked himself for bringing up the subject. He supposed it made sense, remembering the child's patchwork, hand-me-down clothes and overall scruffy appearance. Sighing at his own stupidity, Cal attempted to put a comforting hand on Avan's shoulder, only to have it roughly shoved off by the boy.

"I don't have any," Avan spat out with resentment; bitterness and anger twisting his words. "Why do you care anyway, huh? Why are you even talking to me?"

So he's at the anger stage of grief, good to know, Cal thought to himself as he processed the hurt words Avan spouted. The bartender had plenty of experience with dealing angry drunks during his tenure at the Fool's Errand, people so fractured by rage that their only response was to lash out. Hoping that an angry child was at least somewhat similar to their grown counterparts, Cal approached Avan as he did with all wrath warped people he handled. With calm, unapologetic honesty.

"Don't like seeing people cry is all," Cal responded levelly, placing his rejected hand back at his side.

Avan snorted abruptly, as if somehow what Cal said was a cruel joke, anfd sorrow once again slid back into his voice. "They're not the reason I'm crying."

"Then why don't you tell me why you are?" Cal implored. Avan didn't reply nor respond, instead hugging his legs tighter towards his chest as if doing so would make the world disappear. His form started to shake again, and chocked sobs began to seep out of the child.

Sighing at his failure once again, Cal tilted his head up and back against the solemn, gray stone. Closing his eyes shut, the youth racked his brain for some sort of idea to get Avan to open up. He hated to hear the child's sobs return as if he had never introduced himself to the boy, and with every melancholic shudder Cal felt his heartstrings tear a little.

I was never this bad when I was small, was I? How did Mom get me to talk when I was a kid?

And as if the Gods above tore down from the heavens, an idea erupted into Cal's brain. The one surefire way to get a kid to listen and do what one wants?

Bribery.

Slinging his backpack off from his shoulders, Cal dug through the various objects which cluttered its space. His arm disappeared from view as it tore through the confines of the brown pack, only to reappear seconds latter with its quarry in hand. The sound of searching proved loud enough to once again catch Avan's attention, and with a grin Cal turned to face the child.

"Tell you what, you tell me what made you cry, and I'll show you something fantastic. Deal?" Cal offered, tossing the three brightly colored orbs in his hands with a devil-may-care smile.

[Calado Ceann]

Cal could tell by the way Avan's tear-stained eyes had gleamed that he had at least gotten the kid interested. The bartender made his smile wide and inviting, raising an eyebrow as if daring the kid to say no. From what he remembered when he was a kid, Cal could never resist the promise of something interesting nor the challenge of obtaining it. He was hoping that Avan was a child of a like mind; counting on the way people seemed inclined to trust him to put the boy at ease and get him to open up. The sounds of sniffling subsided in a slow procession; a melancholic orchestra of sobs slowing in pace as Avan thought over his offer.

"Is it r-really that cool?" The child inquired, rubbing his nose to catch the dribbling left over from his crying.

"Cross my heart," Cal promised, tracing an 'X' over the left side of his chest.

"A-alright," Avan began in a small voice, taking a deep breath to clear the cracks which plagued his throat. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, Avan motioned to the colored balls. "C-could, you maybe sh-show me first?"

Cal was half-tempted to just to cheer the poor boy up and stop him from crying, but Cal knew what the kid was trying to do. He had done it enough as a kid himself, and he knew that the problem wouldn't get fixed if he just entertained the boy without hearing him first. Something in Cal yearned to get to the bottom of whatever Avan was hiding, and, be it mundane or malicious, fix whatever was bothering him. Call it compassion or curiosity, Cal wasn't going to relent so easily.

"Sorry bud, but that's not how it works. It's all right, you can tell me," the bartender responded, holding firm even as Avan's eyes pleaded with him. Whatever it was, it seemed to Cal that Avan was embarrassed by what had happened, not wanting to admit to a stranger or even himself that whatever had occurred bothered him.

"F-fine," the boy pouted angrily, crossing his tiny arms to illustrate his disappointment. With another deep breath, the child began his tale.

"I don't have a mom or a dad, so I live at this big place with other kids who don't have moms or dads. Most of the time its fine, we play games and get schooling. Sometimes the learning is really boring, but I don't mind it that much. I'm good at learning, but I'm not good at games. Whenever we play, nobody picks me, nobody wants me on there team. Nobody," Avan concluded, nearly shaking as the memories of loneliness no doubt rushed through his mind. The child bit back another sob, and his small body betrayed him as furious tears brimmed at the corner of his eyes. Anger and sorrow seemed to radiate of Avan, and Cal could only frown as he saw bitterness tear at the boy.

"Jack and Finn and Alistair, they're all good at games. They always win, and they always make fun of me when I don't. Everyone likes them, and everyone thinks they'll get adopted soon. I won't. I'm not like them. I'm not special."

Cal placed a firm hand on the boys shoulder, shaking Avan from his angry musings. He raised a thumb to brush away the hot tears which burned down his face.

"Hey, stop crying. You won't be able to see my trick if you keep crying," Cal implored in a kind tone, smiling softly to the boy. Avan gave him a long, sad look as he remembered the bribe which got him to open up. In a frighteningly small voice, he agreed.

Smiling widely, Cal removed his hands to once again fetch his mother's set of juggling balls. They had been a gift to him when he was young, something to cheer him up in times of adversity. Cal had no doubt his mother would be proud of him, remembering all the times the brightly colored balls brought him joy as he felt their familiar weight in his hand.

He settled on only using three of the orbs, as adding any more would test the extent of his skill. Cal began slowly at first, tossing the balls in the easy pattern which he had learned when he had first started out. The red, blue, and yellow balls danced in his hand as he picked up speed, colors begging to blur in his eyes as he found his rhythm in his juggling. His dexterous hands began to remember the easy procession of patterns that were inherent to the juggling art, and Cal's confidence grew to the point were he attempted to switch from the basic cascade which his mother taught him to something he had attempted many times by had yet to find success in.

The technique was called 'columns', and as he shifted to the cascade to the other style, Cal remembered why he had such trouble with it before. It was a different sort of pattern then the one the youth was used to, and when he switched to it he almost dropped the tri-colored orbs which twirled in his hands. He recovered with some effort, settling back into a steady cascade. Attempting the switch again, this time Cal found success in his efforts by slowing the toss of his third ball, allowing him time to catch the remaining two on its ascent. While it descended, Cal tossed the remaining two in the air as the first ball fell into his had. He continued in such a manner for a short while, reveling in acquiring a new juggling technique to add to his repertoire. He alternated to his regular cascade one final time before finishing, his smiling eyes met with the sight of a wide-eyed Avan.

Seeing that wonder in a child's face, one which had previously been fractured by bitterness and sorrow, it filled Cal with a quiet joy. However, not even that could compare to the elation he felt at Avan's next words.

"C-Could you teach me that? I want to be special, just like you."

[Calado Ceann]

Avan wasn't lying, he was good at learning. Petching fantastic would be a better description of it. Granted, it had taken him a bit to get his hands used to the patterns of a basic one-handed, two-ball toss, but Cal was sure he could handle a three-ball cascade if he kept up his current effort.

"Alright, now watch me, and see if you can figure out the pattern," Cal instructed, "After that, we'll see if you can put those munchkin hands to good use." The bartender smiled at his own little joke, mocking Avan for his small size.

"Hey! There not that small..." Avan replied indignantly, crossing his arms and pouting slightly. Cal rolled his eyes in response to the child's motion, choosing to begin his juggling pattern instead of continuing to mock the boy. Three balls, red, yellow, and blue, danced in the air to the rhythm of the youth's tosses; the brightly colored orbs seeming to move on their own accord as their choreographed procession was set into finality. Cal had a few stumbles here and there, tossing a ball too high or too low and having to scramble to recover the wayward orb before he lost the set completely, but he felt he just about had the cascade technique down-pat by now. Satisfied with his showing, the youth tossed the three balls towards Avan's ready hands one by one as they fell into his hands.

"Alright, give it your best shot," Cal grinned at the kid, excited to see what he was able to pick up from sight alone.

Avan began his cascade with little success. His hands were unused to the addition of a third ball, and Cal noticed that his would-be-student tried to jump into the technique quickly instead of easing himself into it. Cal let Avan continue in his futile attempts for a little while longer before interfering, just in case the kid managed figure out his mistake without his teacher's interference. In short, Avan did not, and judging by the frustrated grumbles, Cal could see that this was not making him feel any better about himself.

"Slow down, you're trying too hard to move too quick. It's not a race, just take your time to get it right," Cal instructed levelly, hoping that Avan was understanding some semblance of what he was trying to get across. Truth be told, Cal had never really taught anyone anything of importance before, and the fact that Avan was making such strides with an admittedly inexperienced teacher was a testament to the kid's natural talent. Granted, Cal thought his student's focus could use a little work, but perhaps he was just being picky.

After a few more failed attempts on Avan's part, it seemed the boy was finally getting the hang of the cascade. His small, calloused hands moved with a deft, dedicated precision that seemed to defy his age. Cal noticed his tosses were still a little wobbly and that his confidence in movements needed some defiant work, but realized he could hardly be one to talk; still being a neophyte in the entertaining art. Despite his perhaps unrealistic expectations of Avan, Cal could not deny the sense of satisfaction that came with teaching the child. However, not even that could compare to the elation that emerged as he saw a smile broaden on the Avan's face when his hands completed the cascade with a definite flourish.

"Way to go!" Cal congratulated the boy, ruffling his hair in a motion of affection.

"Yah! That'll show everyone!" Avan beamed in response, tossing the tri-colored balls back at Cal in a playful manner.

Cal paused for a moment, a curious look overtaking his features. While he was happy to have taught the boy, something about the situation seemed...off to him. As if the message he meant to tell Avan had been misinterpreted by the boy. With an almost reluctant smile, Cal opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey, I'm glad to have taught you this and I'm glad that you're feeling better, but you need to remember one thing," the bartender began. "What you and I just did, that doesn't make you special. It's a talent, and it's fun, but it doesn't make you special," Cal raised a hand to stop Avan's interruption before it began. "Just let me finish," he implored, continuing at the boy's slight nod. "Learning a skill doesn't make you special. As corny as it sounds, what's in here," he pointed at Avan's head, "and what's in here," his hand drifted to the child's heart,"is what makes you special. Unique. Don't ever forget that."

Avan looked up at him with a scrutinizing gaze. The boy got up unexpectedly, and began to walk away from Cal in a strange manner. He looked back at the still sitting bartender, his face a mishmash of hopeful and doubt-ridden.

"You promise? No lies?"

Cal smiled in response.

"Cross my heart."

[Plume]

Please update your ledger, I will be happy to award you your grade once you have!