Beneath the Veil of Tragedy

The Feasts

After collecting his things, Clyde made his way back to the cozy room that had been temporarily his haven. The beige-brown desk table was cluttered with his belongings, and as he approached, he let his fingers glide over each item, savoring the familiarity of it all. They were all still there, intact and waiting for him. A soft smile graced his lips as his hand lifted to his neck, brushing against the delicate gold necklace that had belonged to his mother. Yet, just as quickly, the smile faded, replaced by a shadow of melancholy. Memories of recent events came rushing back, overwhelming him.

For the past few days, he had tried his best to push those thoughts aside and simply survive. One moment, he had been alone in the woods, fighting to fend for himself; the next, he had stumbled upon a family so warm and kind that it felt unreal. Yet an unmistakable feeling of being a burden gnawed at him. With their busy household, filled with children and the demands of running a restaurant, he couldn't help but feel like an extra weight they didn’t need.

Settling onto the edge of the bed—the one he suspected Yumi or Kimiko must have made while he bathed—he leaned back and let his thoughts drift. What should he do next? The question swirled in his mind, and he closed his eyes, fatigue still clinging to him despite having rested many times in the last few days.

Just then, an unfamiliar but cheerful voice echoed from down the hall, pulling him from his reverie.

“Oh, something smells yummy!”

Curiosity piqued, Clyde slowly opened his eyes and sat up, straining to comprehend the commotion as the new voice filled the space around him. He pushed himself off the bed, took a deep breath, and opened the door, peeking into the corridor.

As he surveyed the area, something caught his eye. “Hey! You must be Clyde!” came a voice that was both calming and warm. The speaker stood a full head taller than Clyde, his skin radiating a rich shade of honey. His eyes sparkled a vibrant green, conveying a sense of maturity that suggested he was likely around 16 years old, older than Clyde. Dressed in an outfit reminiscent of Mamba's, it was clear that these clothes were tailored to fit him perfectly, enhancing his confident presence.

“Yes, I am,” Clyde replied, feeling a flutter of nerves and unfamiliarity.

“Oh wow! It's so nice to finally meet you!” the boy exclaimed, his smile widening. “My parents told us you needed to rest and not to bother you.”

“I’m feeling a lot better now,” Clyde offered with a hint of enthusiasm, allowing a bit of hope to creep back into his heart.

“Great! Do you want to play with us?”

Clyde’s eyes widened in surprise at the invitation. Play? It felt like a distant memory, something precious that had slipped away long ago. As the realization hit him, a wave of emotion welled up within him, and he fought back tears.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” he managed to say, his voice wavering, betraying the joy and sadness intertwining in his heart.

“Oh no! The gods! I’m so sorry! Did I do something to upset you?” The boy’s panic was evident as he flailed his arms, clearly unsure of how to handle Clyde’s unexpected reaction.

“No, I’m fine,” Clyde reassured him, hastily wiping away the moisture gathering in his eyes. How long had it been since anyone had asked him to join in their laughter and play? At that moment, the warmth of the boy’s kindness began to mend the frayed edges of Clyde’s spirit, igniting a flicker of hope that things might, indeed, get better.

The boy eagerly grasped Clyde's hand, leading him through the cozy, house toward the living area. As they entered the room, Clyde's eyes were immediately drawn to a lively group of children gathered in a circle. There in the midst of them sat Arya, her bright smile contrasting with the other faces around her. He noted some unfamiliar faces appeared to be in the same age bracket.