Morning had arrived yet the sun remained absent. Passengers lined up to climb aboard a ship, their faces on par with the sky.

  They paid no attention to the loud scene next to them between a young man and woman. Both had unusual white hair and a mocha complexion.

  The young woman carried a bag and a smile with a demeanor as cool as the morning. The young man carried an emotional mess, he tried to pull her away from the brow.

  The lady tugged back a little. “It’ll be fine Quin.”

  “No it won’t sis!” the young man hollered, his face red and scrunched up. He gripped her shirt. “Please don’t leave! I can work back the money and I won’t get hurt ever again! I promise!”

  From head to throat to heart, Quin ached. None of the people who crossed the brow gave notice to the affair, their faceless expressions were colder than the harbor breeze.

  The woman retained her smile as her hands wiped tears and salt off her brother’s face.

  “I toooold you, it’s not your fault. If I go to the academy and explain my case, they’ll let me in,” she reassured as she held Quin’s hands.

  Quin remained unconvinced. Cold blank eyes betrayed her warm bright smile. Her eyes looked through him, equally devoid of color like the morning.

  He never saw his older sister like this. His brain told him not to let her board the ship; he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

  Quin closed his eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t leave. I don’t want you to leave. I’ll make this right. Please don’t leave.”

  Even when the pleas turned to prayers, it wasn’t enough. Quin opened his eyes to see his sister gone, already on the ship, already on the move. He pursued after her with nothing else on the mind.

  His chase came to a sudden end when his body made a sudden plunge. The freezing waters were enough to shock his whole body awake.

  Before he knew it, Quin found himself and his floor mat bed soaked. The ship that hovered above him, changed to a scruffy old man with an empty bucket. The open harbor that surrounded him, turned into a small cramped room filled with shoes. Quin’s eyes zipped everywhere, his face completely blank.

  “Oh sorry didn’t mean to bother you. But since you’re awake, you might as well get to work,” the man said before he shuffled away.

  Over two years had passed since that day. Quin never had a dream like that up to that point. Left to himself, he took occupation and residence at a shoe shop. Mostly devoid of sunlight, he spent his days there as a cobbler.

  A toil on the joints and the nose it was, but people like him only had slim options. No family, no wealth, no connections. His only inheritance, shame and mockery.

  “So what are we doing today Miro?” Quin asked with a dryer shirt.

  Miro threw a boot with force. “Every morning you ask the same damn thing and every morning I tell you the same damn thing: fix some damn shoes,” he said as he went back to stitch leather on soles.

  A rough life turned Miro into a rough man at least to interact with, but not rough enough to leave a kid close to adulthood out on the road.

  In repayment, Quin followed whatever request Miro had for him, mostly to just repair shoes as Miro preferred to make them.

  Time traveled no differently than usual in the small cramped shop. The front door opened and smacked the bell out overhead. The light that entered, brightened the shop but the lady who entered, brightened Quin’s mood.

  Her violet blouse added lively color to the aged shop. The lemony pine perfume she had, brought a refreshing scent that nearly put Quin in a trance. When she walked up to the counter and her hazel eyes met Quin’s, his body felt lighter than smoke.

  Bliss turned to sweat induced anxiety. She entered as a customer which meant he had to approach her like a customer. He wanted to hear her soft and melodic voice, he couldn’t care less about his own.

  “H-h-hi Aesther,” Quin stuttered as he dashed to meet her.

  “Hey Quiin. I’m here to pick up the boots. Are they ready?” Aesther asked, her smile and dimples on full display.

  “They are now. No thanks to that guy,” Miro said as he handed the boots over.

  “I would have fixed them in time.”

  “Yeah, in time for my funeral.”

  Aesther chuckled. “Thank you so much. Now Papa can enjoy the festival before he leaves.”

  The city swept itself with festival preparations for the next evening and Quin promised to have the boots ready before then. He barely succeeded thanks to Miro’s reluctant help but Quin aimed to have two pair of shoes ready for Aesther.

  Though relegated to fix footwear forever, when he had the time, he worked on something special for someone special.

  Off to his right hidden in his little corner of the shop, a small pair of sandals waited patiently to be gifted.

  Simple and unassuming, comfort stayed foremost on Quin’s mind when he crafted them. It had smooth leather straps and a sole that left no sound with every step.

  They filled Quin with pride and accomplishment. The dye finish gave them more of a reddish purple look instead of violet, but the sandals had been finished and the chance to present them, presented itself.

  Quin quickly dashed to his room before he came back. “Um Aesther? I have something else for you if you-”

  “See you later Quin. Thanks again,” Aesther said as the front door smacked the bell after her.

  It took a dozen steps to his room and back, but Quin’s body reacted like the travel took a thousand. For all the many people that lived in the city of Sirqu, only Aesther gave him such strong feelings.

  For starters, whenever he saw her, Quin’s heart constantly attempted to break out from his chest. Her laughs highlighted his day; the image of her jovial face burned into his memories. His thoughts went on the move and got stuck simultaneously.

  Even in her absence, the sweet scented perfume she wore played games in the olfactory.

  In short, Quin couldn’t get Aesther out of his head. Wherever the imaginations went, she followed.

  That’s when Quin had the idea for the sandals but it wasn’t long before he realized a central flaw with the plan.

  At best, one would identify them as acquaintances. They’ve only known each other for a few months and their conversations have been cordial and on the move.

  Only when her father needed a cobbler did Aesther found out about Quin’s job, the same time he discovered Aesther belonged to a merchant family.

  Regardless of the gesture, a handmade gift for a stranger was...strange. He felt fairly certain she wouldn’t dislike him for the sandals but he really wasn’t sure how Aesther would react.

  Quin kept the thoughts in his head and with a work day to ponder it, he decided to go for it. When his part of the shop turned to the tidy part of the shop, he inched himself close to the door. With him a box, sandals inside.

  He clutched them close in his arm then took a long breath. A second later, he pushed the door open. Out he stepped into the wilds of Sirqu.

  His eyes quickly loss against the big bright beams. Once he adjusted, a tower consumed his view. One of four across the city, they stood above every other structure.

  Only the top floor had windows. No walls had doors; the only entrance and exit stood on its roof. Quin always took a second to peer up at the tower and wonder what occurred within its halls.

  For curiosity’s sake, Quin wanted to see the inside just once but unless he could fly, he had no chance. It would always elude him.

  Still busy under the afternoon sun, ordinary people filled the hilly roads as they traveled to or arrived from wherever. People greeted and people shouted. Another ordinary day, but alongside the ordinary, stood the extraordinary.

  Small shadows dashed over Quin’s which clued him to people above who walked on thin air.

  Screams brought Quin’s attention back to the surface. A runaway handcart darted toward an unsuspecting passerby. Fortunately, the cart collided with a wall as it didn’t so much miss the lucky soul as much as it passed right through him.

  Back to their routines went the people. The man gestured and yelled with force up at the crew responsible. Quin himself moved on.

  Once he saw the harbor, he knew he would find Aesther. That’s when he ran into another acquaintance.

  “Quin? Is that you?” a man with long hair and a scruffy beard asked as he approached Quin. “Oooh, it is you. How’s it going? It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

  “Not really. It’s only been a few days,” Quin said with a drooped face.

  “Look Quin I’ll be frank, we need you back. There aren’t any couriers like you.”

  “C’mon Lymon, it’s been two years.”

  “You’ve been a courier half your life. I know running’s still in your blood.”

  “Even if it was, what do you think I can do now? I’m not the same as I was then.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’ll have some rust, but I’m sure you can shake it off like a wet hound.”

  Quin rolled his eyes before he turned away. “I have to go Lymon. I’m looking for someone.”

  “Looking for someone? Ah, so you haven’t closed the door all the way,” Lymon mumbled as Quin departed. “Alright I’ll leave you to it, but I know you Quin! You’re not one to stay in one spot!”

  Lymon had “stumbled” into Quin’s orbit multiple times recently. Small talk dominated the conversations early on but not long after, it veered to his courier past.

  A strain on the heart in more ways than one, he missed certain aspects of his old job. It all ended when he missed his footing.

  On a fateful windy day while out on a run, nature jettisoned Quin off a narrow road. He fell down a ravine and his leg shattered.

  Only the price of recovery matched the steepness of the fall. By the time he could walk on his own, he ended up all on his own.

  The moment contributed greatly to his newfound aversion to heights.

  The harbor district of town laid beneath Quin’s feet. He felt closer to Aesther and clutched the box tighter.

  His heart matched the pace of the busy fluid crowd. As he lightly bumped his way down a road, another figure of his past bumped him to his back.

  “Oh hey old pal. Long time no see,” a red headed man said with a crooked smile. “Didn’t mean to bump into you like that. Here, let my friends help you up.”

  Two bald guys pulled Quin off the ground, each one had identical blank faces. Of all the many people that lived in the city of Sirqu, Quin wanted to meet this person last of all.

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  “So where you’ve been all this time?” the red head asked with open arms. “Never mind that, lets hang out. Catch up on some old times.”

  “Oh uh I can’t. I have somewhere to be,” Quin replied as he looked away.

  “Oh don’t be that way. I insist.”

  Led through a narrow lane, the red guided Quin to an open dirt yard where they faced buildings’ back. There, a casual meetup turned to a casual beat up.

  The red struck rapidly as he switched from left to right, across Quin’s face and torso.

  The bald twins stood behind and watched. Quin’s body bounced off the wall with each punch; the box knocked off to the side. Unable to take any more, Quin slumped down.

  The aggressor massaged his hands. “We haven’t seen each other in months and when we do, you blow me off with some ‘I have to be somewhere’ crap? Where exactly are you going cuz it sure as hell isn’t up.”

  Fully enveloped in pain, Quin used the ground to help him reach the box. His harasser punted it across the yard. Out came the sandals, exposed to the elements.

  The assailant smirked as he hunched down to Quin. “Or maybe it’s been long enough that you forgot. Here, let me remind you.” He punched the ground next to Quin’s face.

  Quin’s eyes and mouth stretched far and wide. A plethora of scenarios took over his thoughts. Not a single one played out pleasantly.

  The red got face close to Quin. “You only have yourself to blame for this life you live right now. I could end that Yerp life of yours and the world will simply pass by, a fair exchange after what you’ve done to mine.”

  Quin’s responded with fast breaths.

  “So you better know your place before I lose my forgiving mood.”

  Quin knew no safe place existed when he neared red menace. People called him Orpes and both labored for Lymon. But then Orpes stood out and stood on Quin’s life.

  For over two years, their meetings transpired in this manner. They always concluded with Quin on the ground as he tasted his blood, caught whiffs of dirt, and heard muffled laughs.

  Orpes felt a tap on his shoulder. One of the baldies tilted their head where he discovered another spectator up on the roof.

  They were shrouded in a black cloak that fell past their knees in the back while two clasps fastened it at chest level.

  Unmoved, they stood as still as a statue. Their eyes behind a mask remained fixed on Orpes. Even with city activity heard in the distance, the dreadful silence couldn’t be drowned out.

  Finished with the unsettling standoff, Orpes and his gang backed off.

  “C’mon we’re out of here,” Orpes said as he walked off. “Don’t be a stranger, friend.”

  Two types of people existed in this world. Quin, like most people were healthy, active, and average. Perhaps skilled or talented, but naturally average.

  The other type couldn’t be more different. Much more than natural. Much more than active. Much more than average. With only their bare hands, they could manipulate the wind, the shadows, or even the soul.

  They were the Sentar’i. People who stood out from everyone else: the Yerps. Whether they walked on air, turned intangible, or crushed the rocks beneath them.

  To any observer, it was obvious they were a Sentar’i. When it came to Sirqu, nothing was more obvious than the cloak wearing folk.

  Some wore masks, most of them didn’t. Most wore black cloaks, others red or blue.

  It seemed the only thing that really differentiated one from another were the litany of designs on their cloaks. Zigzags, shapes, or just a plain hem, Quin couldn’t find any other way to tell them apart.

  As he retrieved the sandals, Quin looked up at the cloaked figure, who still stood and still stared. It boiled his blood.

  Despite their fearful appearance, they supposedly stood as the good guys. Tasked to keep Sentar’i like Orpes in check, they instead did little to curb any harassment.

  How could they call themselves “protectors of the domain”, Quin thought. As the cloaked figure turned away ready to depart, his frustrations came out.

  “Heeyy!!” Quin blurted. “Aren’t you supposed to preserve the peace?! Aren’t you supposed to keep everyone safe?! Why didn’t you do anything? What are you guys even good for?!”

  The cloaked figure immediately descended off the roof. A woman of slim frame in black tights and a white shirt, her cloak spread out for extra intimidation. Quin only had time to appreciate her drop before he was face to face with peace.

  From behind her back, she produced a staff and before he could react, it was pressed against Quin’s neck. Gasps and flails followed before she relented.

  As he caught his breath, Quin caught a closer look at this new attacker. Light made contact with her jet black hair. Her eyes pierced a hole in his psyche.

  “You have it better than you know, Yerp,” she said. “Nowhere else is safer for you than here.”

  In a blink, she leaped back to the roofs and out of sight. Quin was left to himself a bloodied mess. His special gift became a dirtied pair.

  Another worst day occurred, it had been many moons since the last.

  One day, Quin thought. One day he’d make Orpes pay, pay for everything over the past two years. Only a huge stroke of luck could make that happen, something that appeared nowhere in his future.

  In no condition to impress, both Quin and his present were one with the dirt. He picked up the scuffed sandals and turned back home.

  Back at the small shop, Quin was surrounded by shoes and silence. Miro stepped out, likely to have a post work drink. In his solitude, he applied water and elbow grease to the sandals then his face.

  Usually he kept his head on a swivel when he traversed the city but the length of time since his prior encounter with Orpes coupled with his sole search for Aesther, resulted in a one track mind with tunnel vision. He scowled at a nearby mirror before he banged its wooden frame.

  Being a Yerp never bothered Quin in the past. That all changed when the people he grew up with stood out especially Orpes, previously a nuisance before he became unbearable.

  As Sentar’i, they could live the lives they wanted. All Quin could do was exist.

  To aid Quin with this existence, he had an old book he kept from his old home. Loose yellow threads read, All for Heart written by Naim Noma.

  At first, the unreadable text puzzled his eyes and annoyed his mind. Over time, it spoke to him. It made sense.

  Time only assisted him with understanding. Nearly everyday, he traveled up to an arch bridge that overlooked the busy roads. There, he’d read as he watched the foot traffic of everyday people and occasional stray cats.

  This day was no different and Quin perched himself by the balustrades to engage his favorite book.

  Long past the point where he read it cover to cover, Quin scoured the book for lines of motivation or lines that related to his day. His eyes traveled in a line until one passage struck his fancy. It read:

  A tiny step may appear insignificant but

  .step one in world the cross can none

  Take heed of that small step then the

  .one without exists journey no for next

  The words floated in Quin’s head before he saw its point. His attempt to gift Aesther with the sandals made more for a leap than a small step. The smaller step would be to talk to Aesther more and improve the relationship organically.

  As he looked for more lines of wisdom, an old stain across the bottom hinge caught his attention.

  It brought back memories of his sister, the one responsible for the blemish.

  It reminded Quin of the small room they called home. The laughs, conversations, and yells of neighbors outside. The aroma of roasts and spices coming in from all directions.

  Back then, Quin tried to wrap his head around the enigmatic texts when his sister who tried to make a healing ointment, bumped into him.

  The mixture splashed onto the book and seeped through the pages where a mark remained with a minty smell he could still detect years later.

  Quin choked up on the nostalgia and memories but his breaths stopped when he saw who strolled the road below. It was her, it was Aesther.

  She lit up her surroundings with every step. The scene appeared to slow down as she sat by a fountain to rest.

  Quin had his chance to talk to her, but the sandals were back at the shop. He could go back and pick them up, he thought, but she could be gone by then, he presumed. Maybe he could tell her to wait, he reasoned, but what about the small steps, he remembered.

  “Oh. Hi Quin,” Aesther greeted.

  Quin froze at her sudden appearance. Too preoccupied with thoughts that raced in his head, he didn’t realize he had raced over to her. On the outside, he tried to keep his composure. On the inside, he tried to contain his screams.

  “You’re face.” She pointed with wide eyes. “Are you alright?”

  “What, this?” Quin winced as he touched the small scars. “Just an accident. I should have looked where I was going really.”

  “Oh. Ok.” Her bright smile slowly returned. “By the way, Papa’s happy with how his boots turned out. He seems so relieved now. Thank you so much.”

  Aesther looked up with her alluring hazel eyes; together with her adorable dimples, they melted Quin’s heart. That lasted for a split second when a patch of red appeared in the corner of his eye.

  From the same spot where he enjoyed his read minutes ago, he spotted Orpes who noticed him back.

  His crooked smile responded to Quin’s shrunken pupils. He beckoned someone over before he dashed off, no doubt to get back in touch.

  “So, you’re out for a read while walking?” Aesther asked as she lightly swiped the book’s cover. She had no idea of the tight spot Quin suddenly found himself.

  He had to think fast.

  “Uh...yeah. Actually, I’m glad I bumped into you. Are you still going to the festival tomorrow?” Quin asked.

  “Yeah, I’m going with Papa,” Aesther answered.

  “Could you stop by my shop before then. I had something else to give you but you left so fast.”

  She covered her gasp. “Really? I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to swing by tomorrow.”

  Aesther’s sweet nature put Quin in a brief daze. Reality snapped him out of it.

  In one breath he uttered, “Oh, thank you. Well I gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. See you-” Aesther couldn’t finish before Quin dashed off.

  The many faces occupied many places, neither Quin nor his pursuers could travel at a full sprint. He exploited the moment and briskly zipped across the crowd. He weaved through passerby after passerby with hopes that he lost them.

  He committed to a corner up ahead when one of the twins emerged to block him off. He had to backpedal before he hurried down an alleyway in between.

  His pace quickened, he had to get out of the alley and back on the road fast. Nothing blocked the other side. He charged on, one step bigger than the last. He had no intent to look back. Closer and closer he drew when a table appeared in view.

  Two men ahead lugged the furniture when they noticed the one man storm too late. Forced to adjust, Quin hopped over the board, his shoes nearly contacted the trimmings. He rolled to his feet and instantly continued.

  Away from the apparent deathtrap, Quin blended back in with the crowd. He used them once more to conceal his escape but another turn got blocked off.

  The next detour led him down a descending road. Quin gladly took gravity’s help and darted down the declined dirt path.

  No longer at a walk, Quin noticed fewer and fewer people. Inaudible voices faded away; he heard more of his footsteps synced with heavy breaths. The buildings shrank more and more as they spaced themselves further and further.

  Soon, trees took their place and Quin found himself alone on smaller paths. His heart sank. They led him right where they wanted. He had to disappear off the road but his lungs told him to wait. Nowhere could he spot Orpes.

  Quin hunched down, hands on knees, relieved to take a breather. He used his drenched shirt to wipe sweat from his eyes. He noticed a glare from the setting sun or rather, some reflection off of it.

  Upon a closer look, he saw one of the twins, up on a hill, the light reflected off his bald head. The high vantage point made it easy to spot Quin. He stumbled back to a sprint as he went further in the woods.

  Quin realized he hadn’t evade their capture so much as they waited for him to tire out. It wouldn’t be much longer before their cat and mouse game reached a bruised conclusion.

  He had to find a way to get them off his trail. The current trail showed him an assortment of trees, bushes, and boulders.

  A ridge split the path in two. As he stopped to consider his next move Quin stopped to consider his shirt. Deprived of dryness and comfort, he peeled it off. That’s when he had an idea.

  His idea had to be fast though, as minutes later, Orpes arrived at the same fork in the path. His eyes couldn’t pinpoint Quin, but they quickly found the divide and narrow paths. Revulsion revolved around his body at the sight.

  “Ughh, I hate these forks,” he remarked with a palm on his face. “You two, split down the paths, I’ll take the middle.”

  The twins responded in nods; each raced down a path. Orpes dashed up the divider with no concern for gravity. He took a few strides upward when his eyes at last found his target down in the bushes.

  Slightly blended to the environment, he saw a figure, lain in what looked like a fetal position. If it wasn’t for Quin’s shirt, Orpes would have zipped right by, but the sun gave him a clue.

  “Boys! Come back!” Orpes yelled. He slid down the ridge and hummed, “I found him.”

  He slowly strolled up to his “friend” who remained motionless and hunched down.

  “Oh ho! You think I can’t see you?” Orpes asked with his crooked smile. “You think you’re a ghost artist? Well then, let’s find out if my foot goes through you.”

  Orpes winded for a punt and struck his mark dead center. Despite contact with Quin’s shirt, no screams echoed across the woods.

  “What?” he uttered.

  With the twins beside him, Orpes looked closer when he realized he had been duped. He took Quin’s shirt, ripped it open, and revealed a boulder instead of a body.

  “Son of a biiitch!” Orpes yelled as he chucked the shirt deep into the greens.

  As darkness neared, Orpes reached the end of his pursuit. He and his followers turned back and left the forest to itself.

  As it turned out, Quin never left the scene. Under the bushes, he watched the assault on his shirt. Even though Orpes seemingly gave up, Quin continued to keep low, no bug forced him to flinch.

  Time reminded him of his book, nowhere to be found. Unsure exactly where and when he lost it, he had to steel his soul for a life without it.

  Before that though, he had to ensure his safety. Once the sun fully left sight, Quin made his move. Shirtless and book-less, he cautiously made his way back home.

  The shop stayed exactly how he left it. Back to safety and privacy, Quin closed his eyes and voiced his displeasure with force.

  Why? Why was the world like this, he thought. Why do awful people like Orpes get power and strength while Quin received pain and suffering? Why couldn’t he become a Sentar’i too?

  If he had strength, Quin could live a different life. If he had strength, Quin could push back at Orpes. If he had strength, Quin could still be with his sister.

  Instead, Quin had nothing. Even the one thing that retained his spirits, disappeared. All because of that accursed red.

  The door opened and the bell rang. Miro shuffled his way in. He appeared woozed from the booze.

  “Yooooouuu look like ya had fun,” Miro said.

  Quin sat by his worktable in the corner, dejection and exhaustion sat beside him.

  “O’yeah, herr.” Miro dropped something on the table.

  Quin’s eyes widened. With the help of some serendipity, his book found its way back to the table, back in his possession. Convinced he’d never see it again, elation filled every corner of Quin’s face.

  “Where’d you find it?” Quin asked in shock.

  “That girl yur afer found it. Said...saw me an’ said you left it or sump’him. You’d lose yur damn head if ya cud.” Miro blathered some more as he shambled to his room. Quin heard none of it.

  He couldn’t believe it. He embraced his book with hopes he could do the same to Aesther one day.

  The one thing that kept his spirit up had returned, all because of her. The world may have been dark for people like Quin, but it wasn’t dark everywhere.

  One place was bright, beaming, and beautiful. It was a place he wanted to be.