"That's the ship," he said, pointing to it, "That's Sparrow!"
Abijam shared a glance with the Captian and back at his father. His eyes darted as if he were trying to examine his surroundings.
"I don't see anyone on the ship."
"Oh! That's because Sparrow is docked, and Captain Jacques has no orders to go back at sea," the captain explained.
"Orders? Nevermind that. Have you seen a woman who has similar features to us? Except she has dark red hair with black highlights."
"Unfortunately, I have not, but you can ask people in town," the captain replied, pointing to the cobblestone street.
Abijam nodded and firmly shook the man's hand. He shifted to face his father as he began to walk near the busy road. His eyes practically popped out seeing the beautiful architecture ahead of him.
The rhythmic echo of horse hooves rolled through the street, harmonizing with the rumble of carriages and the hum of city life. Overwhelmed with the newfound sensations, Abijam spun in circles, immersing himself in this unexplored world.
The sound of happy children filled the air, their infectious energy lifting the spirits of those around them. Abijam strolled confidently on the sidewalk as people of all ages passed him.
Abijam observed the men in tailored suits, complete with top hats, to create a structured silhouette. The suits featured fitted jackets with broad shoulders, high-buttoned vests, and tailored trousers.
Filled with wonder he gazed upon a group of women he had never seen before, dressed in exquisite clothing. Their attire consisted of long skirts adorned with pleating or ruffled details, tailored bodices, high necklines, puffed sleeves, gloves, parasols, and elaborate hats with various head accessories.
"Abijam? Are you listening to me?"
His father's voice echoed in his preoccupied thoughts, examining the townspeople's attire. He briskly faced his father with a twinkle in his vast brown eyes. His lips curved into an enthusiastic smile.
"I apologize, Father. Have you ever visited a place as beautiful as this?"
Abijam remained silent. Ambudhi's mouth was agape but abruptly shut. Abijam felt his father's hand on his shoulder and pulled him to start walking.
"We are on a mission! Not on a vacation! You must remember that, Son."
"I understand. I wonder if Arieshell has adventures in these shops?"
"I wouldn't put that past her. Not to mention with all these wonderful smells," replied Ambudhi.
Abijam suddenly stopped walking as the irresistible aroma of freshly baked goods hit him. He couldn't resist the temptation. His senses were overwhelmed by the sweet smell that seemed to be calling out to him from a nearby bakery.
He walked to an immense window with a gorgeous manmade wooden frame stretching around the ancient building. Abijam pressed his face into the misty window, observing the sweets on the tables.
After a few seconds, Abijam glanced up at a wooden sign hanging above the door. The sign read: Bun Boutique. A slight watery liquid leaked from his mouth.
"Father! Look at this!" he exclaimed.
"Abijam, what has gotten into you," he paused, turning to the shop. "Son, remember our mis-"
"I know! I have a sensation we should go here."
He watched as Father frustratingly crossed his arms. Abijam understood he was eager to find his sister, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to taste whatever he smelled wafting from the bakery.
YOU ARE READING
The Tale Of The Siren (Slow Updates On Weekends) Rough Draft
Fantasy'Just one more question. Well, two questions. Did the Goddess ever get her voice back, and has anyone met her?' 'She did, but no one knows how. It's a mystery! The Goddess does not like showing herself to people, but she had to when it came to fixin...
