Another story, another round of experimentation. Curious to hear feedback on this one. Wonder if it needed more of a character arc, but I think it works well as is(?). Meh, as far as first tries go, I'm happy with it. 🙂
Initiation | A Glint Amongst The Rubble | The Ringing Harbinger | For Duty Untold | Heavier than any Burden
Brick swept the leaves as he was wont to do.
He liked to work. Work was good. It made you forget you lived on the Outside. But Brick rarely cared about that stuff anyway. The repugnant air did not bother him in the slightest - he had lost his sense of smell at an early age. Brick loved it here, and he loved his broom.
Simple work for simple folk. Brick had no delusions about who he was, or what he could become. Life was simpler when you understood yourself - at least Brick thought so. So he stuck to what he knew, handling his broom with stark efficiency.
Sometimes, if you were too fast with your sweeps, the dust caused by foot traffic would be swept in the garden. Said dust would mingle with the plants and contaminate them. Granted, the plants themselves were contaminated, but that's beside the point.
If the trajectory of your sweeps was not measured, you could leave unwanted tracks. Mr. Walton hated that most of all. But that never happened to Brick, he was always calculating with his strokes. And you had to be, for if you misjudged the angle of -
"Hey, Brickster! Handling that broom with care, buddy?" A youth sauntered his way towards the shop. Brick forgot his name.
"With care, sir." Brick bowed his head respectfully.
"Good stuff, good stuff." The youth clapped him on the shoulder. "Is your master around?"
"Mr. Walton is present, sir." Brick nodded happily. New customers were always good.
"Good stuff. Hey! You missed a spot right there." He clapped Brick's shoulder again. "Don't slack off now, Bricky."
"No, sir. Thank you, sir." The sir was kind to try and help Brick, but Brick left that spot to pile up a bit more, so Brick could sweep it all at once.
That spot was tricky, you see, since it was close to the sulfur fumes. If Brick swept it too often, the broom strands would slowly gather sulfur sparkles. Soon enough, sulfur would cover the entire walkway. He told as much to Mr. Walton once and Mr. Walton agreed. He even gave Brick an extra loaf for that day. Mr. Walton was smart.
" - and I'll see you tomorrow then." The young sir was leaving. He seemed happy. "You too, Bricky! Good job today, keep it up!" he waved as he left. A nice young sir, that one, didn't hit Brick once.
Mr. Walton beckoned Brick to join him at the shop's entrance. "You see that prick again? You tell him I've gone Inside to grab some supplies, yea?"
"Yes, Mr. Walton." Brick bobbed his head.
"You believe that prick? Told me you were slacking. Had to explain to him that if you swept too often near the sulfur fumes, the whole place would be covered with the stuff. What an idiot."
Bricked bobbed his head.
Mr. Walton looked at Brick then, his lips formed a line and he spat. "You're a good kid, Brick. Don't let pricks like that keep you down, yea? These guild pricks make themselves out as if they are saving the world. Yet they send that prick here begging like an Insider."
He spat again and entered his shop.
Brick swept the newly acquired dust created by the youth's feet. He did not understand Mr. Walton's words. He learned at an early age that if you just bob your head, most people will leave you alone. Most people, not all.
Brick soon heard a familiar sound - the wagon, it was back! On one hand, he was happy that Mr. Walton's business was doing well, on the other...
"Brick for brains, still sweeping." The wagon driver shouted as he was dismounting.
"Yes, sir." Brick bobbed his head.
"Atta boy." The man bumped Brick on passing, then kicked the pile near the sulfur fumes. "You missed a spot." The men that joined him, carrying boxes from the wagon, sneered at Brick. Why? He'd never seen these people before...
He stood there, waiting. There was no point in using his broom now, better after they left. Instead, he focused on his breathing. His little brother's words came back to him as they were wont to do.
People look at you weird because you keep taking deep breaths. The air Outside is putrid, Brick. Your loss of smell is a gift. And whenever you're mad, just focus on that - on your breathing. If anyone says anything, just know you are enjoying life on the Outside way more than they are. And how can enjoying life be a bad thing, mm?
Unlike Brick, his brother was smart, so Brick payed close attention when he spoke. Brick missed his brother. He remembered that entire conversation, one of the last ones they had - he repeated it in his head so often that he could quote it word for word. He followed his brother's advice now.
The purple sky started getting that characteristic green tint that meant night was coming. Brick waited for a long time for the wagon men to leave.
"I expect thrice the price next time we meet, Walton." The man was saying, Mr. Walton on his heels. "You have thrice the product I expect, cough, that should mean thrice the profit, cough." He turned to Brick. "You more busted than usual, kid? Walton, he's just standing there! If you pay people for just standing around I might send you my son. King knows the oaf needs some motivation."
"You do your job and I'll do mine."
"Except you aren't doing your job." The man kicked at the sulfur pile, again. "Look at this place, it's filthy!" He spat at Brick's feet. "There boy helped you out. Walton, where's my coin for cleaning your sty?"
"Look here, Sting. You can't -"
"Bah!" The man threw his hands in the air and was soon gone, his goons following quick behind.
"I-I'm s-sorry M-Mr. Walton." Brick tried to keep his tears from spilling.
Mr. Walton shook his head, spat, went inside. It didn't take much for Brick to calm himself this time around. If Mr. Walton was mad with him, he would say something. Mr. Walton took good care of Brick.
"Brick! Get in here!" That was Mr. Walton from inside the shop.
The place was the same as the last time Brick visited. Only with more boxes. The shelves seemed emptier than usual as well. The green light coming from the window made Mr. Walton's face look like the ogre from one of Brick's favorite stories. He approached Mr. Walton at the counter, a pile of blue sparkles laid on a blanket before him.
"Sniff this, yea?" Mr. Walton gestured at the sparkles.
Mr. Walton knew full well that Brick... could smell the sparkles? His excitement got overridden by fear however, as he took a step back. "Mr. Walton, that's awful."
"You can smell it from over there?" Brick nodded. "King's balls, I swear. My Pop was right, when you deal with an Insider you deal with the devil." Mr. Walton sighed. "If it's not one thing it's another, yea? As much as those guild pricks annoy me, they're the only ones giving a damn about the Outside. And if I sell them this..."
Brick was covering his nose now, the smell intensifying. "That's... awful... Mr. Walton..."
Mr. Walton looked at Brick like a cat might a bright spot. Then, he looked down and covered the sparkles with the blanket. Sure enough, the smell subsided.
"I don't care what those pricks say. Your nose is a blessing from the King himself, Brick."
"My brother said the same." Brick nodded.
Mr. Walton looked at Brick for a long moment. "What else did your brother say?"
"Enjoying life is never a bad thing." Brick nodded twice.
Mr. Walton chuckled at that. "He wasn't wrong." He was quiet for a time, and Brick started to wonder if he had done something wrong. "Life. What life have we seen from the Inside? The gall of those people...
"Brick. I'm about to do something really stupid."
"But you're smart, Mr. Walton."
"Ha! You need to meet my wife then!" Mr. Walton was smiling, but he seemed sad. "This place might not be safe for you anymore, yea? It might not be safe for me either after tonight."
"I'm happy here, sir."
"Humph. Will you be happy if they hurt you?"
"No..." Brick stared at his feet. "Will they hurt me?"
"I don't know..."
"Then Brick would like to stay, Mr. Walton." And Brick felt something stir inside him, "My...my brother used to say, that you should stay where you're happy."
Mr. Walton exhaled. "That brother of yours is a cracked alembic if there ever was one." He tapped the counter. "Fine. You might be right. Those pricks might find you anyway... But we'll have new rules from now on, Understood?"
Brick bobbed his head. It thrilled him Mr. Walton wasn't getting rid of him.
"We'll talk tomorrow then." And Brick left the shop.
The walkway devastated Brick. It looked as if it was morning, and yet it was night... Brick really hated those wagon folk, but he didn't dwell on those thoughts. He had a job to do.
Brick picked up his broom and started sweeping. As he was wont to do.
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