Imperfections

Erel stood in front of the mirror, propped against the wall in their room. His hands moved stiffly as he adjusted the brown, overlong coat hugging his body, layered over a black woollen shirt. The collar was tied at his neck with a cloth band instead of buttons, a strange touch he still wasn’t used to. His long black hair framed his face, with his signature streak of white weaving through the front, something that had appeared after he’d integrated with the ouroboros.
“It’s so uncomfortable. And heavy. Do we really need to wear these?” Erel muttered, glancing over at Lyra, who was buttoning a similar coat, her hair spilling down over her shoulders.
“We do, unless you want to stick out like a sore thumb out there,” Lyra replied, fastening the last button with practised ease. She seemed far more at home in these clothes than he ever would.
Apparently, it had only taken a few words from Lyra to the bartender, who turned out to be the owner of the inn, to secure two new sets of clothes for them. Erel still wasn’t sure how she managed it, but he decided not to question her resourcefulness.
‘She literally has that poor man on chains.’
“Come on, he even made us breakfast. We should eat before we head out.”
‘Of course he did.’
They made their way down the stairway to the main bar, where the man stood behind the counter, rotating a griddle on the stove. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the empty room and making the dust motes dance in the air.
Erel’s curious gaze drifted over the place. Sensing it, the man, Nobu, spoke up. “Everyone’s busy today with the celebrations for St. John and St. Paul’s Day. The whole village gathers near the church.”
Lyra took a seat at the counter, offering a grateful smile. “Thank you for the clothes, sir. You’re a real gentleman.”
“N-no problem, miss. They look good on you anyway,” Nobu replied, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.
“Sir-”
“Miss, please, just call me Nobu,” he interrupted, waving off the formality.
“O-okay. N-Nobu…” Lyra stammered, keeping up her act.
“Last night, we heard a strange melody just as we were going to sleep,” Lyra continued. “Do you know what it was?”
Nobu’s face lit up in recognition. “Ah, that was the Piper. Our village had a major rat infestation, so the mayor hired him to get rid of them.”
“But… how does a piper help against rats?” Erel asked, his confusion genuine.
“They say his flute is an instrument of the gods. It has enchanting powers; he can control whoever he wants with it. So he probably just led them away.”
Lyra nodded thoughtfully as Nobu placed two steaming bowls in front of them. “It’s beef stew. Eat up. You must be hungry after your travels.”
They didn’t need to be told twice. Even in the Imaginarium, their bodies demanded real food and sleep, just as in the real world. Erel took a moment to appreciate the hearty aroma, letting it ground him in this unfamiliar place.
As they finished, Nobu spoke up from behind the counter, scrubbing dishes. “Say, miss, would you like to join the celebrations today? Visitors are always welcome, though we don’t get many.”
Lyra glanced at Erel, then smiled at Nobu. “We’d love to. But before that, we wanted to look around the village a bit.”
Nobu nodded and collected their empty bowls. “Alright then. Hope to see you at the celebrations.”
Once Nobu had retreated, Erel leaned in, lowering his voice. “Where do we go next?”
“We still need to understand the forces at play,” Lyra replied, her tone thoughtful. “According to the narrative, the Piper takes away the children as revenge for not being paid. But why wouldn’t the village pay him in the first place?”
Erel frowned. “Why do something that would enrage the Piper, knowing he has a supernatural flute?”
“We’ll need to find out. First, let’s ask around the village, then check the church. The mayor should be there. If I am not wrong, he’s probably at the centre of it all.”
They left the inn and made their way to the village centre, just outside the residential area and adjacent to the market from the day before. It was nearly noon, the sun high overhead, bathing the village in bright, celebratory light.
People streamed past in fresh clothes, faces alight with joy and laughter. Couples walked hand-in-hand, children ran in packs, weaving through the crowds. There was a buoyancy in the air, a sense of release after some long hardship.
That was when Erel noticed a boy standing apart from the others, half-hidden behind a wooden fence. He watched the playing children with envy, wanting to join but staying out of sight.
Lyra followed Erel’s gaze, her features softening with a gentle, pitying smile. Before Erel could say a word, she moved toward the boy.
The boy barely seemed to notice Lyra crouching beside him, his eyes fixed on the distant children. Even as she spoke, he didn’t react.
“Hi there,” Lyra said in a gentle voice. “What are you doing here all alone?”
The boy kept staring, oblivious to her presence. Erel, now beside Lyra, waved a hand in front of the boy’s face, trying to catch his attention.
That did the trick. The boy startled, nearly stumbling back in fright.
“Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you. We just want to talk,” Lyra soothed, placing a reassuring hand on his head. Still, the boy looked confused, as if he couldn’t quite understand her words.
Then he pointed to his ears and shook his head, finally giving them a clue.
‘He’s deaf…’
Lyra looked up at Erel, sympathy in her eyes. The boy, who couldn’t hear or speak, tugged at something inside her.
‘Wait—if he’s deaf, in this plane… he wouldn’t be affected by the Piper.’
Knowing the boy couldn’t hear, Erel quietly shared his observation with Lyra. “The flute won’t affect him,” he said in a low, serious tone.
Lyra nodded, then gave the boy a gentle pat before standing. The boy, still confused, scurried away.
“But he won’t be any help,” Erel said.
“Did the myth have someone like that?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m not sure. Even if it did, I doubt it would change anything.”
They continued on, leaving the residential area and arriving at the village center, a crossroads where four paths met, forming a circle around a polished marble fountain. Water trickled from the top stone, filling the air with a peaceful sound. People gathered all around, some chatting by the fountain’s edge, others passing by on their way to the church.
Erel tried to pick up snippets of conversation as they walked.
“No more rats to scavenge my food, it’s such a blessing,” a pompous woman exclaimed to her companion.
“Exactly! They’ve been a nuisance for so long. It’s wonderful to have peace again.”
“The mayor really outdid himself this time, hiring the famed Piper,” a man boasted to his friends.
“But didn’t you hear? There are rumors it was the Piper who brought the rats here in the first place.”
“You don’t say. Such a lecherous man,” another replied.
Erel turned to Lyra. “Do you think it was the Piper’s fault?”
Lyra’s gaze sharpened. “Why do you think these myths exist? Or any myth, really?”
Erel considered. “They’re a form of entertainment, or maybe just rumors that grow over time. Eventually, they become myths, fairy tales, even faith.”
“That’s true. But there’s another reason, fear,” Lyra said, her eyes meeting his. “This myth is just a story to explain the unexplainable. The children didn’t actually vanish. Most likely, they died of illness, plague, or famine. The Piper is just a manifestation, a way to make sense of tragedy.”
“So, there’s no real explanation for what happens here? The plane just follows the narrative people remember?”
“And the Imaginarium fills in the gaps to make it all possible,” Lyra finished.
As they walked through the crossroads and into the marketplace, Lyra suddenly stopped and gestured for Erel to follow her gaze.
“Look there!”
Erel spotted a young girl, maybe six or seven, sitting on a porch and staring blankly at a spot on the road. The world seemed to move around her; however, she remained untouched, a still point in the commotion.
“What?” Erel asked, puzzled.
“Her eyes…”
That’s when he noticed the girl’s eyes were marble white.
‘She’s blind.’
‘First a deaf boy, now a blind girl. That can’t be a coincidence.’
“The deaf boy couldn’t help, but she can,” Lyra murmured, excitement in her voice.
“How? She’ll still hear the tune.”
“Exactly. But she won’t be able to see where she’s going.”
‘Has she lost it?’ Erel wondered, still skeptical.
Lyra caught his look. “Smart-ass, think of the Piper’s melody as a carrot on a stick. It tempts, but to follow it, a child needs to see where they’re going.”
Erel frowned. “But what if it just draws children, no matter what they see?”
“We’ll find out tonight. I doubt it, though. First the deaf boy, now her, it has to be part of the narrative.”
“Should we talk to her?” Erel asked, eyeing the girl, who sat quietly, her face turned toward nothing in particular.
“Yeah, we should.”
They approached. Lyra crouched in front of the child, who turned her head toward the sound of footsteps.
“Hi there, I’m Lyra. What’s your name?”
The girl hesitated, lips pressed tight, then whispered, “M-mae…”
“Mae? That’s a pretty name. Why are you here alone? Where are your parents?”
Mae shrank in on herself, fingers fidgeting in her lap. “My father… he’s busy with the celebrations.”
“Do you have any friends? I’m new here. We could be friends, if you want.”
“I’m w-waiting for Ren. He comes here sometimes.”
Just then, Erel spotted a boy darting through the crowd, crashing into two men deep in conversation, though neither seemed to care.
“He’s at it again,” a woman muttered in annoyance.
“Just ignore that fool. Someone’ll throw him out of town soon enough,” a man grumbled, shooting a disgusted look at the boy.
The boy looked about Mae’s age, with short grey hair. But something was off—his tongue lolled out, drool trailing from the corners of his mouth, one eyebrow arched higher than the other, eyes wide and wild.
‘Don’t tell me… he’s mad. First deaf, then blind, now dumb. What is this, the holy trinity?’
Mae, unfazed by the commotion, perked up at the sound, a bright smile on her face. “He’s here!” she squealed.
“So that’s Ren,” Erel whispered, watching the boy run, his expression wild.
Ren continued to cause a scene, but Mae clapped and squealed, delighted by his antics.
Lyra stood with an amused smile, gesturing for Erel to follow.
“What do you think?” she asked, clearly entertained by Erel’s confusion.
“You think they’re part of the narrative?”
“Yup. They’re the ones who’ll lead us to the Piper.”
Erel still looked uncertain, but didn’t argue, waiting to see what Lyra had in mind.
‘What now?’
“Let’s join the celebrations. I want to meet the mayor up close. If I’m right, this whole situation starts with him.”

Chapter end