Chapter 02 – Page 03/06

Edgward: Second chance [?]

The city of Aranor sprawled before me, a labyrinthine expanse of steam-powered machinery and bustling activity. Its streets bustled with humans, each going about their daily lives with a vigor that both fascinated and repulsed me. They hurried, their steps purposeful, their voices a constant hum that resonated through the metal and brick surroundings. I, Edward Thorne, an observer from a world long forgotten, walked among them, concealed by the shadows that clung to the city’s edges.

“Snugglefluffies,” I muttered under my breath, my own invented word that had become a nervous tic of sorts. Humans were strange creatures, with their odd behaviors and constant chatter, and I had little patience for their antics.

As I strolled through the city’s heart, the architecture of Aranor unfolded like a tapestry of mechanized marvels. Steam-driven carriages rumbled by, while airships soared overhead, casting a network of shadows that danced upon the cobblestone streets. Gears turned and steam hissed, creating a symphony of industry that grated on my senses.

My curiosity had led me here, to this bustling middle class district, a place where human civilization had evolved in my absence. A bitter smile tugged at my lips—I had been trapped in Norvashan, my own realm of darkness, while these mortals built their cities and their lives.

As my eyes roamed over the city’s inhabitants, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disdain. Humans, with their endless ambitions and desires, seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They scurried like ants, toiling away with a fervor that was amusing, if not entirely bewildering.

In the midst of my contemplation, I caught the gaze of a human, his eyes alight with curiosity and friendliness. He approached me with an outstretched hand, a gesture of familiarity that both bemused and surprised me.

“Hello there, fella! You look like you could use a bit of company,” he said with a warm smile, as if I were a lost puppy in need of affection.

I considered turning away, dismissing him with a disdainful snort. But something in his demeanor, the lack of suspicion or fear, gave me pause. I hesitated, unsure of how to react.

“Snugglefluffies,” I muttered, my discomfort apparent even to my own ears.

He chuckled, interpreting my nonsensical word as a sign of agreement. “Well, Snugglefluffies, how about I take you home? I’ve got some food to spare, and I wouldn’t want to leave a furry friend like you hungry.”

Before I could react, he led the way, and I found myself following. His quaint abode was a reflection of his friendly nature, warm and welcoming in its simplicity. He offered me a plate of food, and though I could hardly stomach human sustenance, my hunger got the better of me.


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