Out of Place

The Cloaked Boy

(TW)

~ Many Years Later ~

There was a quiet, peaceful store along a portside in a forgotten location. There were quite a few shops and stores, each filled with valuable gems, weapons, and jewels. All seemed calm and well-

"HURRY! HE'S ESCAPING!" A man cried as another young-looking boy who appeared no older than nineteen sprinted away with a bag in his arms, his dark purple cloak flowing behind him. "GET HIM!" Another man yelled as the two storekeepers gave chase, sprinting after the cloaked boy.

Meanwhile, the guy in the cloak sprinted for the docks. "Sorry for the inconvenience!" He called to them as he ran. "I-It's nothing personal! I swear!"

"GET BACK HERE! YOU STOLE A DAGGER FROM THE TIMES OF THE ANCIENTS!" One of the shopkeepers cried in a frantic manner, as this was perhaps the most valuable item in the entire town.

"Yeah, I know! It's pretty cool, right?!" The cloaked boy chimed, still sprinting. He quickly fumbled through the bag he was holding and pulled out the small knife he had stolen. It was a slick, black blade with a blue gem on the handle. He had spent he didn't even know how long searching for it. It was a dimensional dagger, said to have helped ancients control their powers. And since he had still yet to fully understand his own power, he deemed it a necessary item needed to get him home.

"STOP!!!!" The shopkeepers cried.

"Okay." The cloaked boy shrugged, suddenly halting and holding his hands up with a smile on his face. The guys who were chasing him didn't expect such a sudden stop and tripped over themselves, falling forward and landing on their faces. The cloaked boy snorted to himself and took the hood off, revealing his two black eyes, which almost had a child-like quality to them.

"Oof, that looks like it hurt," He giggled, covering his mouth with his fist.

Both the men groaned in pain and sat up, looking at the cloaked guy with anger in their eyes. 

"Why the long face?" The cloaked boy joked, shrugging and smiling. 

The men just continued to glare at him, trying to catch their breaths.

"Hmm... not talking?" The cloaked boy joked with amusement, holding the knife in front of his face and looking at his darkened reflection in it, still smiling. "Well... that's fine. Since it's clear that neither of you are quite fond of me, I'll get out of your hair. Farewell!"

With that, he turned on his heel and pulled out a small rope (which he stole as well) from his bag, tying a knot and turning it into a lasso, swinging it around and hitching it onto a boat that was just leaving port. He smirked and turned around, saluting to the town, then allowing the rope to pull him away and out to sea.

A few moments later, he was able to climb up the rope and onto the ship, hiding in the cargo and opening his bag, taking a look over everything he had snagged. Rope, dagger, some food, and a small stuffed giraffe for when he got home to Oitnemid.

"Soon," He whispered, briefly hugging the giraffe to himself, then putting it back into his bag, along with all the other stuffed animals he had stolen for his little brother through the years. He then slung the bag over his shoulder and rested his back on the wall of the ship, pulling out the dagger again and eyeing it.

He had no idea how long he had been gone for. He had no idea how old he even was. He stopped keeping track. Most magic users stopped aging at certain ages anyway. It was different for each person. If he had to guess, he would say he stopped aging around nineteen or twenty. But he knew he had been gone for far longer.

He continued to observe the dagger. He knew that it was from ancient times and that it helped people control their powers. That's why he stole it. His own magical ability was... odd to say the least. He didn't have the least bit of control over it. He could occasionally teleport, but he had no control over where he'd end up. He had desperately tried figuring out how to teleport correctly so he could just teleport home, but he could never go more than a few feet. A few times he had been able to get to another universe with the help of stolen books and tools, but it had never been the right one. He'd always just end up getting himself more lost.

But hey, maybe today was the day.

"Let's do this," He whispered, standing up and twirling the knife between his fingers. He then grasped the handle tightly, pressing it gently to his wrist.

He had no idea how magic worked in different dimensions and universes. But according to one of the books he had stolen and read, an ancient's magic ran through their very veins, living inside their blood. It was a part of them, just as nerves, bones, and muscles were. So... he'd need his blood in order to make this work.

The idea of doing this almost made him feel sick for reasons he didn't want to think about. But it wasn't a big deal to him. He could deal with the pain if it meant getting home.

So, inhaling then holding his breath, he slowly and carefully traced the blade over his wrist, cutting just deep enough to line the edge of the knife with a fresh coat of red liquid.

He let out a slow breath as the blade made the cut. Yes, it had hurt, but it was short, then it was done. He did his best to ignore that feeling of relief as the cold steel traced his arm. Once he finished, he opened his eyes and gently placed the knife on the ground, fumbling through his backpack and grabbing ahold of a white cloth and pressing it over his arm to stop the bleeding.

He tied the cloth around his wrist so it would stay in place, then picked the knife back up. "Okay... Okay! T-The hard part's over," He told himself in a forced cheerful tone. He then gripped the knife with both hands and held it straight out in front of him, keeping his eyes open and focusing on where he wanted to go. Where he needed to be.

"Home..." He whispered, gently closing his eyes once again and slicing the knife through the air as if he was cutting a hole in the air itself and creating a portal to where he needed to be.

He waited a moment, then opened his eyes to see... a house? There was a room with a window. A potted plant was sitting peacefully on the windowsill.

It looked quite homey. Perhaps it was one of his neighbors' houses? Maybe he finally made it. Maybe he was finally home.

He smiled brightly, and quickly jumped through, the portal seeming to close right behind him. He then quickly stood up, biting his lip and keeping his hood over his head, slowly turning around himself and taking in all the new surroundings. No one appeared to be in this room at least. So that was convenient. He hoped to quickly find an exit so he could see if he was in his own hometown or not. But, his attention was brought back to that window where he could see the outside.

"Rain?" He questioned, wandering to the window and gently pressing his hand to the glass, watching as the raindrops raced one another down the window.

He couldn't remember if it rained or not in his home universe. It had been so long, but all of his memories consisted of sunshine and happiness. There were actually quite a few places where the weather never changed. It was quite fascinating, really.

"What an adorable little home-" He started, when he suddenly heard the sound of a simple plate dropping and shattering.

The cloaked boy quickly whirled around to see another man standing in the doorway, which led to another room that he could only assume was the dining room. The other man wore a shocked expression on his face, his mouth hanging ajar.

The cloaked boy sort of just froze up, immediately sensing power from this other person. It was... familiar. Electricity maybe? There was something static-like.

He was wearing green. Ah, the cloaked boy's favorite color! What a coincidence! 

"W-w-who..." The other man started, slowly pointing a shaking finger at the cloaked boy. "W-who are you?!"