The Four Chimes

Chapter 3 - ARI

I dragged myself into my apartment on the floor above a sketchy "Outer Island" restaurant. It was really just a tourist trap; they cooked up some random exotic-sounding fish, tossed in a soup or a salad, and called it a day. People literally ate it up. Outer Island cuisine here in Psara!, said an obnoxiously bright banner out front. As if anything could match real Outer Island food. Ten years ago or so, my dad was in charge of a huge seaport being built on the biggest Outer Island. I was really pissed at him for leaving for a whole six months, but when he got back, he brought Kurie and me a box full of food he brought back from his trip. I still remember every single thing that was inside. Bright pink fist-sized fruits that tasted sour when you bit into them and sweet when you swallowed them down. Tiny green leaves that tasted like salt. A fish so big, he could only bring back the bottom half because the rest wouldn't fit. I remember him telling me to slow down on the fruit, but I didn't listen. I ate so many that I got sick. I'm pretty sure I finished my last piece of fruit before Kurie even finished his first. Kurie was always like that. Savoring every little bit. Now I wish I had saved one. Dried it up and put it in a jar. Just as a reminder it was real.

No one really knew what went on in the Outer Islands, not even the other Outer Islands. They were a weird place, little specks of land surrounded by miles and miles of ocean. Some said the people there never die. Others said they don't even have to eat or drink; they just do it for fun. All I know is that they have really good food. And that they have a huge seaport now.

I opened the door to my room and walked in. I was so tired that I didn't even notice my brother sitting on my chair by the window. "Hey, Riri," he said.

"Hey, Kurie."

"Sorry for barging in. It's just that your bedroom window has a better view of the sea than mine, and you know how much I love watching the ships."

I walked over to the window. It was a slightly overcast day, and you could barely see most of the ships through the mist. "Look at that one," I said, pointing to the far left of the window.

Kurie leaned over. "Oh, yeah. That one's interesting. It's so big, it almost looks like an island."

"It's weird, that's what it is."

"It must be one of the new royal ships they're testing out. It looks like a model B-2."

"How do you know so much about ships, anyway?"

He smiled. "Your biggest hobby is moping about how much you hate everything and you're still going to criticize me for mine?"

"Touché."

"You should try watching the ships sometime. And not just to humor me. The harbor always looks beautiful this time of year."

"Maybe I will."

"I hope you do," Kurie said, diverting his attention fully to the ships on the horizon.

I looked around my room. It was pretty small: just a bed, a chest of drawers that doubled as a desk, a small bookcase, and the chair Kurie was currently sitting on. It wasn't much, but it was what we could afford. Psara seemed to be getting more and more expensive as the years went on, and Kurie and I still got paid the same wages. To be fair, he was pitching in more than I was; he worked as a magic healer, and Lhartaon always needed more of them.

"Hey, Ku!"

Knock knock knock.

"Open up!"

I sighed. Couldn't they at least use the doorbell?

"Hey, Riri. I gotta answer the door. See you, bro."