Chapter Seven #2

“I do not know where it leads,” Tamriel murmured, turning back to Idris. “But it is certainly a place in your realm.”

A cool, bracing breeze rolled through the portal, carrying with it the scent of saltwater, and Idris’s face lit up with recognition and delight.

“It’s the seaside,” Idris said, his voice almost reverent. “Have you—have you ever seen the sea, Tamriel?”

Tamriel stepped closer to the portal to get a better look. “I’ve heard of it,” he said, his voice tinged with wonder. “But I’ve never seen it with my own eyes.”

The waves were much larger than any Tamriel had seen before, even the lakes of Faerie, their rhythmic rise and fall hypnotic and powerful. In the distance, a small figure appeared to be riding one of the waves, standing atop it for a fleeting moment before disappearing beneath the surface.

“Who goes surfing in November?” Idris muttered, squinting to get a better view of the figure.

“It’s beautiful,” Tamriel said, his voice soft with awe. He had never seen anything like it, and the sight filled him with a strange yearning.

“I’ve always loved the sea,” Idris said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “My dad’s family are Tunisian. Every summer when I was a kid, we’d go and visit. They lived just a short walk from the beach, and I spent most of my days on the sand, building sandcastles and running into the waves.”

“That sounds... wonderful,” Tamriel replied, smiling at the thought. “I have never seen waves before.”

Idris laughed, shaking his head. “Well, you’ve seen them now. Quite different from the stillness of Faerie lakes, huh?”

Tamriel nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the water seemed to meet the sky in an endless expanse. He had spent so long in Faerie, in its stillness and its beauty, but the sea felt like something else entirely—vast, untamed, and wild.

“Do you think we can go?” Idris asked suddenly, his excitement palpable. “Just for a few minutes. I want to see where this goes. The best way to travel the world is through a portal, right? No planes, no trains, no cars—just step through and bam, a new country.”

Tamriel smiled, his own sense of adventure stirring in response. “Of course,” he said, his voice full of agreement. “I would love to.”

The moment they stepped through the portal, they were greeted by the sound of waves crashing on the shore and the scent of salt in the air. They found themselves standing on a rocky beach, the sand cool beneath their feet, and the landscape stretching before them was nothing like Faerie.

The beach seemed untouched by time, the waves rhythmic and constant as they lapped at the shore. In the distance, beyond the beach, stood a row of brightly colored buildings, each one a different hue, rising out of the land like the earth itself had shaped them. The air was chill, a far cry from the warm, temperate lands of Faerie, but the differences were fascinating.

“Definitely Mediterranean,” Idris said with a grin, his eyes alight with wonder. “This is incredible.”

“It is,” Tamriel agreed, his gaze sweeping over the strange new world. It was full of differences, yes, but in that, it was also full of beauty. The sea stretched on forever, its waves eternal, and Tamriel couldn’t help but feel that he had crossed into something new, something full of potential.

Idris pulled out his phone, but quickly groaned and stuffed it back into his pocket. “Dead,” he muttered. “I wanted to make sure Addison wasn’t worrying.”

“It’s only been one night,” Tamriel said with a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’s fine. You wrote her a letter, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but still,” Idris said with a sigh. He glanced up at the brightly colored town beyond them. “Anyway, what do you think? Should we head up to the town? See if there’s anything interesting? Maybe some signposts, something to give us an idea of where we are?”

“Yes,” Tamriel answered eagerly. This would be the furthest he’d ever ventured into the human world, with his previous visits mostly consisting of staying near the portal, always ready to leave at a moment’s notice. It was different now, though, with Idris at his side: a reason to explore, a newfound courage to push himself further into the unknown.

Or perhaps, he mused, it was simply the creeping, inescapable feeling that the Wild Hunt was waiting for him, its shadow growing darker with each passing day.

“Aha!” Idris’s voice broke through Tamriel’s thoughts as they reached the edge of the beach, his finger pointing at a large, metal carriage rolling by. “We’re in Italy.”

“Is that good?” Tamriel asked, the unfamiliar name tasting strange in his mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to visit,” Idris said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Man, this is amazing.”

The town around them was waking up, the streets gradually filling with people as several shutters were pulled open, revealing the shops within. In the distance, a bell rang ten times, its deep chimes sinking into Tamriel’s bones. The sound seemed to reverberate in the air, filling him with a strange sense of energy. The town was alive, pulsing with a kind of vibrancy Tamriel had only felt before at the grandest revels in Faerie. It was intoxicating, and for a fleeting moment, he found himself wanting to run, to flee into the heart of the town and never return to his former life, to escape the shadow that loomed over him.

But he didn’t. Instead, he took a deep breath and approached a man walking past, asking him where they were.

“Genova,” the man said brusquely, giving Tamriel a glance that spoke volumes about how out of place they must have looked. Tamriel didn’t mind the judgment. He turned to Idris and repeated what the man had told him.

“You can speak Italian?” Idris asked, clearly impressed.

“I can speak everything,” Tamriel said with a casual shrug. “All Fae can. It’s just a matter of looking past how words sound to feeling the meaning behind them.”

“I’ll never understand you,” Idris laughed. “Genova, huh. I never would have thought to come here.”

Idris turned back to the beach, gazing out over the shimmering water. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper holiday,” he said quietly. “It always seemed like a waste going abroad without anyone to share it with.”

Tamriel’s heart tightened at that. “You have me now,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I know you do not believe in equal exchange, but you have spent days doing what I wish in my realm. So I will gladly do what you want in yours.”

Idris smiled at him, the warmth in his expression making Tamriel’s chest feel fuller, lighter. “I don’t even know what to do in Genova. I always imagined going to Rome, visiting all the museums, galleries, and ruins. And eating pizza, though I get the feeling it’s too early for that here.” He grimaced, looking around at the buildings before them.

“Ice cream,” he added after a moment, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Or gelato, I guess. You’ve always wondered about ice cream, right?” he added with a sideways glance at Tamriel.

Tamriel nodded, his curiosity piqued.

“Ok, that’s what we’re doing. We’re in Italy, we have to get ice cream,” Idris declared, and the excitement in his voice was contagious.

The search for ice cream didn’t take long. After a few minutes of wandering, Idris’s eyes lit up as he spotted a small shop, a brightly colored sign advertising gelato. Inside, trays of ice cream in all colors and flavors were on display beneath a glass roof, the vibrant hues beckoning them closer. Tamriel studied the various flavors, each one more foreign than the last. Vanilla was familiar, but the others—pistachio, chestnut, tiramisu—sounded intriguing.

“What is tiramisu?” Tamriel asked, pointing at a tray with marbled streaks running through it.

“That’s a dessert,” Idris explained. “It’ll probably taste a little like alcoholic heartsbane tea.”

“That sounds good,” Tamriel said, intrigued. “And what about viagra?” he asked, his finger hovering over a bright blue ice cream.

Idris blinked, looking concerned. “Uh, that doesn’t sound like it should be an ice cream.”

Tamriel frowned, pulling his finger back. “I see. What about pistachio?”

In the end, Tamriel chose tiramisu and pistachio, while Idris selected chocolate and chestnut. As they waited, Tamriel watched in awe as the woman behind the counter carefully placed two generous scoops of ice cream onto a delicate honeycombed cone, balancing them expertly.

“I’ll get this,” Idris said, pulling out his wallet and handing over a brightly colored rectangle to the woman at the counter. Tamriel watched in fascination as she ran the card through a strange device. “All this portal travel better not have wiped my card,” Idris muttered. The device beeped, and Idris smiled in relief. “Phew, it worked.”

The woman handed Tamriel his ice cream, smiling kindly. “Nice ears, by the way,” she said. “My cousin got hers done last year—she’s super into the whole body mod thing.”

Tamriel blinked, unsure how to respond. Normally, he would have complimented her in return, but Idris’s earlier words about their appearance floated back to him.

“Thank you,” he said, giving her a small smile.

Idris grinned. “Aw, was that your first ‘grazie’?” he teased. “I’m proud of you.”

“It feels strange,” Tamriel admitted as they stepped outside. “I feel I should have said more.”

Idris shook his head, smiling. “Don’t overthink it,” he said with a laugh. “And eat your ice cream before it melts.”

Tamriel snorted but dutifully took a mouthful of his tiramisu ice cream. It was sweeter and richer than he’d expected, with a hint of something like heartsbane tea—smooth, almost intoxicating. He closed his eyes, savoring the texture. When he opened them again, he grinned and held out his cone toward Idris.

“You should try it,” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

Idris laughed, leaning down and taking a lick of the ice cream, his tongue flicking out for the briefest of moments before disappearing back into his mouth. Tamriel found his gaze lingering on Idris’s lips, a heat rising in his chest that had nothing to do with the coolness of the ice cream. Idris swallowed, a smile spreading across his face.

“That’s pretty damn good,” Idris said, handing his own cone to Tamriel. “Here, try mine.”

Tamriel hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his lips brushing lightly against the edge of the cone. His heart raced for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. The chocolate ice cream was rich and bittersweet, with a smoothness that made him close his eyes in delight.

“This is probably better than anything you’d get in the park,” Idris said, and Tamriel could only nod, his mouth full. He couldn’t find the words to express just how incredible the ice cream was. And for the first time, he realized that it wasn’t just the ice cream that was making his heart race. It was something else entirely.

They wandered deeper into the town, savoring their ice creams as they took in the sights around them. Tamriel, despite his lingering unease about the human world, found himself fascinated by the contrast between nature and civilization. Even in a town so clearly dominated by human ingenuity, the streets were still lined with trees, small bushes, and patches of grass, offering a refreshing green canopy over their heads. The greenery softened the sharp tang of metal and stone that filled the air, giving him a momentary respite from the heaviness of the city. He had never seen anything quite like it—Faerie’s wild places were different, more untamed. Here, nature seemed to exist in delicate harmony with the bustling human world, a small but significant piece of balance.

The buildings around them were an eclectic mix, each one offering a unique glimpse into human design. Some were tall and austere, with little character beyond their imposing shapes. Others were small, carefully adorned with intricate decorations—windowsills draped in vines, iron railings twisting into patterns. But wherever they looked, there were cars, the strange metal carriages moving with eerie speed and precision through the streets. Tamriel's unease flared at the sight of one whizzing by, narrowly missing him. He had to stop himself from instinctively darting out of the way, unfamiliar with how fast they could move.

Idris, ever the protector, was quick to grab Tamriel’s arm and yank him back just in time to avoid a nasty collision.

“You have to watch out for cars,” Idris said, his voice unusually stern. “I don’t know how Faerie physiology differs, but I don’t fancy your chances against one of them.”

“I do not think I like them much,” Tamriel muttered darkly, giving the car that had just passed a contemptuous glare. “Why does no one ride horses in this world?” He had heard of horses—Idris had mentioned them before—but he had seen none so far. Instead, metal beasts ruled the roads.

Idris looked around and then nodded. “Come on, let’s get away from the roads.”

They turned down a narrow alley, the constant hum of the metal carriages quickly fading into the background. The streets they now walked were much quieter, though still crowded. The atmosphere reminded Tamriel of a busy market in Faerie, filled with people chattering, laughing, and shouting, the sound of life buzzing in the air. But it was different here. In Faerie, crowds often felt like they were part of the land itself, woven into its fabric. Here, the people seemed more distant somehow, less connected to the space they occupied. Tamriel felt the difference acutely, and the narrow streets—lined on either side with towering buildings—only added to his growing sense of claustrophobia. It was as though the city was closing in on them, squeezing out all but the people, and the air felt thick, heavy with the press of so many bodies.

For a moment, Tamriel was about to tell Idris that he preferred the wider streets, even with the danger of the cars, when suddenly, they emerged into an open square. The space felt like a breath of fresh air, the buildings around them pulling back just enough to allow some light to pour in. People milled about, buying flowers, fruits, and trinkets from covered stalls, but the feeling of openness was a relief. The square was still full of life, but Tamriel could feel his lungs expand as the pressure of the city seemed to ease.

“Is all of your land like this?” Tamriel asked, glancing around at the bustling square. “So full?”

Idris hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between the people and the buildings. “Some,” he admitted, his tone thoughtful. “Most cities are crowded like this. It’s just the way it is.”

Tamriel absorbed this information, looking around the square again. “It is so different,” he murmured. The words felt inadequate, but he couldn’t think of any that might truly capture his feelings. He had been to many places in Faerie, seen many wonders, but this—this was something else. Something other.

“Is that… good?” Idris asked, his brow furrowing as he turned to look at Tamriel. The concern in his gaze was unmistakable, and Tamriel paused to consider his words carefully.

“Yes,” he replied after a moment, his voice thoughtful. “Though it is a little overwhelming. There is so much to look at here, I feel spoiled for choice. It’s like I don’t know where to begin.”

Idris’s face softened, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess it’s quite the change for you. Where I live, it’s not nearly as crowded—things are a lot more spaced out. The buildings are smaller, too. Not so… intense.”

“That sounds better,” Tamriel said, the weight of the crowded streets lifting from his shoulders as he thought about the kind of place Idris described. He thought of the park near Idris’s portal, a place where the edges of nature and humanity met in a kind of careful balance. That seemed like a place where Tamriel could truly breathe.

As if on cue, the clear chimes of another bell rang through the square, much closer than the distant one that had echoed earlier. The tone was sharp, urgent, and as the sound resonated through the town, Tamriel realized it was coming from one of the tall towers that flanked the edge of the square.

“Oh, Tam, the time…” Idris’s face faltered, the smile vanishing completely. His eyes—normally so full of warmth—were clouded with a quiet regret. “You said time is moving faster in your world at the minute. I’ve wasted so much of your final week by bringing you here.”

Tamriel shook his head, reaching out to take Idris’s hand. “Idris, I wanted to take you here. I did not forget about the time difference; you wanted to explore, and so did I. It seemed like a reasonable trade.”

Idris looked down at their hands, his brow furrowing. “Still,” he said, the guilt still heavy in his voice. “I feel like I’ve taken up more of your time than I should have. It was selfish of me to ask you to come all the way here when you—"

Tamriel squeezed his hand gently, trying to reassure him. “We have only been gone half a day at most. It is not so bad. It is not the quantity of time, but the quality that matters.”

Idris sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He gave Tamriel a weak smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It has been fun,” he admitted quietly, “but I think I’d like to go back now.”

Tamriel nodded without hesitation. “Of course. We can stay longer if you—”

“No,” Idris interrupted, his tone firm. “No, let’s go back.”

They made their way back through the narrow streets, the crowd of people ebbing away as they moved further from the center of the town. The sound of the cars had completely faded by now, and the only noise left was the soft hum of the city as they navigated through the winding alleys. Tamriel, with his heightened senses, found it easy to follow the pull that led him toward the portal. It was an odd thing—this pull, as though something beyond mere logic was guiding him. Still, he didn’t question it, trusting his instincts as he always did.

By the time they reached the beach, the scene had changed entirely. Where there had been only a few people earlier, now the beach was full of people basking in the sun, walking along the water’s edge, or simply enjoying the warmth of the day. But no one paid them any mind as Tamriel approached the door in the rock face, the portal to Faerie waiting for them.

The world on the other side was eerily quiet. The rush of sound and movement from Genova seemed like a distant memory as they stepped back into the forest. The birds chirped softly in the trees, the leaves rustling gently in the breeze. It was a stark contrast to the noise of the human world, and for a moment, it felt almost too quiet. Tamriel hadn’t realized just how much he had grown used to the constant buzz of human activity until now.

Idris, ever the strong one, had fallen silent as well, and Tamriel couldn’t help but notice the way his usual energy seemed to have dimmed. Idris had thrown himself into their time together with enthusiasm, doing his best to adapt to Tamriel’s world and show him a different way of living. But now, Tamriel could sense the weight of the day on him—he had given so much, and it seemed to have drained him more than he realized.

“Idris,” Tamriel said softly, his voice almost a whisper. He reached out, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “I know it has often seemed as though I am not in control of my own life, but today was my choice. I wanted to explore Genova, to experience humanity if only for a short while. I wanted to see your world through your eyes, just as you have seen mine. And when the cold nights of the Hunt keep sleep from me, I shall look back on our time there with nothing but gladness—more so than if we had simply spent the day walking the forests of Faerie.”

Idris sighed heavily, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That no-lying thing really comes in useful, huh,” he murmured. “I know. I know you wanted to go, but I still feel bad, and I don’t think I can easily change that.”

Tamriel could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air between them, but for the first time since they’d returned, Tamriel didn’t feel the need to fix it. He could see that Idris wasn’t expecting him to make everything right; he just needed time.

They walked in silence the rest of the way back to Tamriel’s house. Once inside, Tamriel made tea, the act of preparing something simple and familiar helping to ground them both. Idris, despite his lingering mood, seemed to return to his usual self, though there was a quietness to his demeanor that hadn’t been there before.