The Outcasts

Wren

I'm not sure what a human band performance is going to do about any of our problems, but Eleanor says that the music stops for no one. So here we are.

It's been three days since the barrier broke and I answered a human's call, effectively ostracizing myself from Ocratha for the rest of eternity. The truth is, I can go back whenever I want to, but why would I? Why should I? I know what punishment waits for me. They'll strip me of my magic. Chances are, they'll exile me. There's still a part of me that waits for my brother to find me, but it's been three days, and he still hasn't. Another part of me can't blame him. This is partially my fault, and I left him alone.

The only reason I'm going to this dumb show is because, according to Peter's girlfriend, Calypso, a harpy recently crashed into her shop. Fell from the sky and crashed into the ceiling, which resulted in some interesting lies being told to the landlord. She's healing from her injuries but can walk and move about decently. The point is, I can see her after the show. I need to talk to another Ocrathan. She'll be happy to know there's another Ocrathan around. Well, not me by name. Very few Ocrathans want to speak to my mother's daughter. But an Ocrathan, at least.

I know I should be in Ocratha. The Netherlight stone's burst. I heard from a slip of the harpy's tongue. It's my job to look for it, but I'm here, like a coward. I'm here waiting to talk to one harpy for what? For proof that I'm not completely alone in a world I'm stuck in, and not completely isolated from the one I can't return to?

So here I am, on the corner of the street, watching as Eleanor's band packs their gear into a van. They're only going to the other end of town. I don't see what the big deal is.

I've already met Oviya and Peter, having lived with them for the past three days, and I've only known their other member, Hassan, for one day. I think he's what the humans call "punk", with a leather jacket and a paint-stained hoodie underneath. He has brown skin and brown eyes, with a long, dark mullet. He plays guitar, and I don't like him, because he is way too interested in Ocratha. Interested enough to keep a notepad when he talks to me.

He's doing it now, ignoring the huffing and puffing of his bandmates as they try to load a drum kit into the trunk. He taps the notepad with the back of his pencil.

"So you're a demon," he says. He's said this at least ten times already.

"Yep."

"But Ocratha doesn't have heaven or hell, right?"

Those are human concepts. Demons are born from darkness, blood, and flames. We are beings that represent excess and ill intentions. We are born from unsavory ideas and selfish acts. Those are where the first demons came to be, but now, we have families like everyone else.

"Nope," I say. "That snare is about to fall."

Hassan yelps and moves to grab it. I can't blame him for his interest, but it's annoying. I like human music and certain aspects of their culture, but I don't nag humans about it. This brings me to the part of all of this that I hate to admit: I'm sort of excited for this show. They play the exact kind of human music that I like. This might be... fun. Having fun is the least of my worries right now, but there is a small possibility that I might enjoy myself.

There's another man here who isn't part of the band. I think they brought him for extra labor. His name's Adrian, and he's short. And lanky, like he was stretched out, but whoever did it forgot to add height. He's pale with messy brown hair and thick, square glasses, and I don't understand what he's wearing. It's a black, long-sleeved shirt, but he wears a black, unbuttoned button-up over it, which is decorated with flame patterns. I don't think that this is what humans consider "cool" because every other human I've met has actually dressed well. I think he's just uncool. He's Hassan's roommate, and he seems happy to be here. He's also trying not to stare.