Helerros of the First Knoll

(POV, 1st Person, Helerros)

In short, waking up… is not my strong-suit. Well, not without any Pita Bread and Honey, anyway. It’s a… delicacy, where I’m from. I swear, though, most people at the local Handy’s Shack think I’m crazy. The city of Ykara is so typical. I’ve been around the bush a few times, and I can tell ya--

Wait, no. That’s not-- That’s not how that saying goes. Ugh, I swear, I forget, like, every other word to a contemporary phrase, like, every month. It’s not the easiest adapting to English. If there’s one thing that the common tongue of industrialized society has done right, it’s that it’s taken the art of subtlety, and folded it over in on itself a thousand times. I don’t even think my people-- Well, let’s just say… Plato was in no hurry to mince his words.

Anyway, licking at a honey-covered slice of Pita, I spotted her. Her.

This girl that’s been gassing up Main Street with her stupid motorized bicycle. UGH! I think a little got on my bread. Gamo!

Tossing one to the ground, I watch as a bird pecks at it. A city-pigeon honks on over, delving into the concrete’s newest gift. Dirty bread. Mmm! Hope you enjoy, pal.

After all, I can’t eat this bread without… a little gift from my own body. I… almost forget when it started, but… long ago, I… had a--

Suddenly, whirring back around Main Street, the girl had her music blasting. Stopping off right outside of Handy’s Shack, she removed her helmet. A pair of dark sunglasses covered her gaze, but with the pursing of her lips, I could tell who she was staring at. I pointed to myself, gulping.

Was I not supposed to feed the pigeon? Knowing how many rules this city had -- and how capricious their enforcers were --, I wouldn’t be surprised if this chick was a cop.

Her hair fell sharp and straight. Her figure had its girly architectures and components concealed from a slightly oversized biker-coat. Parking the motorcycle to an open spot on the curb, she took one look to the buildings ahead of us, further down Main Street.

A steep hill of street and further sidewalk gave way to a view of the Ykaran River. Near the edge of the city, a spitting and shimmering body of water gave us all a blue view. However, it was… more of a canal, wasn’t it? Down the middle of it was a strip of metal poles. For whose viewing pleasure… I couldn’t tell ya.

Turning back to me, the woman scratched at her sternum, then burped.

Charming.

“Are you the guy that’s been watching me for the past week?”

Blinking, I quickly decided to scratch the back of my long, curly hair. “Haha! What? Define ‘watch’, exactly. I don’t-- I don’t know you.”

“You. Standing right here. Ogling my training routes.”

“Oh! Oh. Well, yeah, you’ve a fan, I guess. You should feel proud.”

The girl pushed her sunglasses further up her face. Evidently, she was unimpressed. I gave a shrug. I didn’t know what she wanted from me. Ykarans, as I just recently recounted, weren’t known for their forthrightness.

“No one watches me as I go by, except you. I’m a former member of Bei-Shin.”

“Bei… what?”

The girl looked back at her bike, then tossed me a card. With wide eyes, I caught it in my Pita Bread. It was just a paper cup, stuffed up with bread, after all. Some of the slices made a perfect landing for her attack. Pulling the card away, I cleared my throat.

With a smile, the stranger gave the peace-sign, suddenly. “They’re a local group that gives people motorcycle tours of the city. I ditched’em a while back though, ’cuz I just wanted to bike, and them being a business, they often got caught up in politics. However, you seem like you’re a tourist.”

I put my hand to the sternum of my white, sporty hoodie. “Wh-- What gave that away? I’ve… lived here for a while.” Embarrassed, I looked down at my coat, realizing I still had honey on my fingertips.

“Oh, really? Then you wouldn’t mind showing me where your house is?”

Clever girl, this one.

And yet, I just felt bluntly ashamed, and wasn’t in a mood to hide it. “I’m… homeless.”

Taking off her sunglasses, still standing by the curb, the young woman’s smile faded. “Oh.”

“Uh-- Um! For the time-being, that is! I’ve got some pocket-money for this and that, ’cuz I do odd-jobs. Mostly involve gardening. And when no one’s looking, at that. Um--”

Gazing at me with her blue stare, the girl patted the rear-seat of her motorbike. “You could definitely use a tour then. How long have you been eating at Handy’s Shack?”

I looked away, glaring at the pigeon that was-- Why the fuck was it still there?

Yawning, I looked at a nearby skyscraper, with windows galore. “Every day. Every night. They have decent dinners. Gyro Wraps, yanno?”

“Ugh. Ya like Greek food, eh?”

I cringed, wondering if this woman knew a thing or two about facial features. Wagging my head around a little, I made sure to get my love-mole, highly straight and downward nose, thick eyebrows, and olive-colored eyes under the morning’s sunlight.

“Uh…” The woman giggled quietly. “... you do remind me of a guy I once saw in the centerfold a magazine about chocolate. Is your name Pepitri Aphrodiki?”

I facepalmed. “No… but close. Also, wow, could you have said that in a whiter accent? You are definitely Ykaran, through and through.”

“Ugh. As I was saying, cool guy, I wanted to take you on a tour.”

“By all means!”

And so we went on a tour. I wasn’t gonna pass up this opportunity to see more than just food-trucks and patio-gardens. I had seen all of that for long enough. And pigeons. Fuck pigeons.

Walking through the top of a shopping-mall’s building, I couldn’t help but admire all the fine china. I was a sucker for pottery. And the painted designs? Not to mention, the prices weren’t astronomical. That was one thing Ykara seemed to do right.

Have lots of pretty looking shit for relatively cheap.

Around us, the sounds of crying kids, escalators, excited adolescents, and cologne being sprayed filled the ambience. Lindsay seemed so unfazed. I guess a native to skyscraping shopping-malls knows how to drown things out. Besides, I was now looking at carpets.

Burgundy, rose, ivory, and beige furs all had the texture of… comfort. Better than concrete!

I ran a hand through each of’em, garnering the stares of a family of six. Two parents, four kids. Wow, that’s pretty sick, guys! Keep up the species. I swear, people are tapped into each other’s birth-habits. If one family has one kid, another ends up having fuckin’ eight.

Appearing behind me, Lindsay -- that was this girl’s name, apparently --, had a string of noodles in her mouth. Sucking it up quickly, she gave a wink. Her jacket a bit unbuttoned, I could see a pink shirt underneath. Ah, so she did have a girly side! Looking back up, I still had my hand over the carpets.

“You’re a weird one. First you ride on the escalator from the side, now you’re fondling every shred of demo-rug you come across.” Lindsay stirred a spork around in her-- Well, it looked like Chow Mein in a paper cup.

“Sorry, it’s… been a while.”

“Since you’ve seen anything except patio-gardens and concrete?”

“Damn. You’re a little mindreader, aren’tcha?”

“Hah! Anyway--”

Suddenly, the ground beneath us rumbled. Over down a hall full of headphones and perfumes, the crying of kids from big families turned into screaming. My eyes widening, I looked up. Bits of dust and debris started crumbling away from the ceiling.

Grabbing Lindsay, I darted towards an exit.

Unfortunately, how convenient! We were on the top floor. The only exit was an elevator. And, those… weren’t lookin’ so hot. As I spotted one lift, it shook in place. Jostling around, the cable then snapped. Tumbling down -- thankfully empty -- the elevator careened back down to the first floor.

What the hell was going on?

Wrestling away from my handle, Lindsay shouted, “Hold on! Hold on! Lemme unlatch my bike.”

I gave a thumbs-up, confused and meek. Conveniently, she had had her bike tied up to a post on this top-floor. What a courteous mall. Unfortunately, this courteous mall was about to come tumbling down.

While Lindsay was off getting her motorcycle, I spotted a kid crying by a glass shelf. With wide eyes, I noticed a large chandelier about to fall. That glass wasn’t gonna discriminate. Taking a deep breath, I darted forward.

Out from my ankles, white petals shot forth. Like tentacles, they both propelled me forward, pushing off the ground, and shot for the kid. Now wrapped in a soft blanket of Gardenia petals, the little kid was safe. I pulled him away from the falling chandelier, hiding his view from the shattering glass. Even a few of the light-bulbs sparkled, their electric embers flying out at other encased merch.

And just like that, my petals evaporated. Running to his parents, the kid muttered something in a foreign language. Ykara was very metropolitan, after all.

Looking at my hand, I smiled, closing my eyes.

That’s… right. I almost forget when it happened, but, a long time ago… I was cursed. A weird, silly curse, that the curser meant more as a joke than anything. Yeah, about that. If I could meet that guy again, I’d give him… SUCH A THROTTLING!

Unfortunately, he’s, uh, a bit… dead.

Suddenly, Lindsay roared through the collapsing mall, her hand revving up the engine. “Hop on! My thing flies. We’re gonna go through that window.”

Looking ahead, I saw a wall-high window, and let out a chuckle. “You-- You’re funny. You can’t be serious.”

Revving up her engine again as her bike tremored, Lindsay gave a straight face.

In the next second, I was on the rear-seat, screaming, “You can't be serious!” As we propelled forward… to the great beyond.

It’s… been a long time. It’s been a while… since I’ve felt this much of a rush. As Lindsay and I crashed through the glass in her heroic attempt to make it outta the mall, I swear I could see my life flashing before my eyes. Like, fucking shit, Lindsay.

Hm. Yeah. It’s-- It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Last time I flew through the air, I was with some old friends of mine… who are probably dead by now.

I wonder… what Helen would’ve said about this.

“By the way!” I nervously shouted. “Not sure if it’s any constellation, but… my name’s Helerros.”

“Helios?” Lindsay tilted her helmet-covered head, her bike now floating through the air.

“No, no. Helerros!”

“That’s-- That’s a really weird name!”

“I know!”

And with that, we were either going to fall, or her motorcycle really was going to fly.

Well, only one way to find out.