"So, is it me, or are we early? Did you remember to confirm the time?" Ishaan asked, fidgeting in an awkward stance.
"Yeah, I confirmed it," Aaron replied, trying to sound composed, though his eyes flicked to his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. "And for the record, that's the fifteenth time you've asked me in the last ten minutes."
"Anyway," Ishaan said, puffing out his chest with a grin, "I still can't believe they agreed to give us a tour. Seems my charm hasn't died down after all."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Aaron sighed dryly. "Honestly, I expected them to refuse. Even if we did save them, I thought they'd just brush us off…"
The Previous Evening
"Okay… why not?" Estella finally said, after a pause that felt long enough to be weighing the meaning of life.
"'Okay' meaning… what exactly?" Ishaan asked, leaning forward eagerly.
"As it seems, we're fine giving you a tour until your parents recover," Isabella answered with a composed smile. "It's the least we could do."
The brothers blinked, stunned by the unexpected generosity.
"Meet us here at 9 a.m. sharp," Isabella continued. "We'll show you around our beloved Alzaras." She then handed Aaron a small slip of paper with her number. In neat handwriting, it read: Contact me if you feel lost. I may be able to guide you.
Today
That memory lingered as the sisters came into view, waving brightly.
Estella skipped ahead, her emerald dress with golden trims dancing with every step. A short jacket rested loosely over her shoulders, and the cello-bow pendant at her neck caught the morning light. Her ankle boots were scuffed but sturdy—clearly meant for movement. She looked like bottled energy, impossible to contain.
Behind her, Isabella moved with calm poise. She wore a midnight-blue travel dress, simple yet elegant, with a light cloak draped gracefully across her shoulders. Silver embroidery glimmered faintly in the sun, and a delicate bracelet shone at her wrist. Each step was measured, her serenity balancing Estella's storm.
The brothers exchanged a glance. Different as they were, the sisters seemed perfectly in harmony.
"Sorry if we made you wait," Isabella said softly as they reached them.
"No, not at all—we just got here a few minutes ago," Aaron replied, though his tone carried a trace of relief.
Her eyes drifted toward him. "You went for comfort, I see. It suits you."
Aaron tugged self-consciously at his hoodie sleeve, revealing faint graphite smudges on his fingers. His grey hoodie and dark sweatpants were simple, almost forgettable—but his steady eyes, scanning every detail around them, betrayed that he was far from passive.
"Thanks," he murmured, offering her a small smile.
On the other side, Ishaan gave an exaggerated bow. "You look as vibrant and colorful as ever, my lady."
Estella shot back immediately, "Why, thank you. Such a gentleman. And if I may return the compliment—your outfit is exactly like you. Chaotic energy in fabric form."
Ishaan straightened, smirking as his boots clicked dramatically. His white button-up, half-tucked, with rolled sleeves and silver chain practically announced him before he even spoke.
"So, what's on the agenda, ladies?" he asked with theatrical flair. "We're ready for this grand adventure!"
"Today, we'll take you through Alzaras's marketplace," Estella declared proudly. "The heart of our city—where modern tech meets medieval tradition."
"Then let the adventure begin," Isabella said, her smile serene.
The marketplace was alive in contradictions. Neon signs blinked above timber-framed stalls. QR codes and e-payments buzzed alongside wooden counters stacked with spices. The air was thick with roasted mutton skewers and the scent of incense, laughter blending with the calls of merchants.
Ishaan's eyes practically sparkled. "Bro! Look at those skewers—calling my name! And over there, swords and artifacts, like we're in some fantasy anime! And—holy hell—look at that street performer! Huge crowd!"
Estella laughed, matching his energy. "Looks like someone's enjoying himself."
"In India we have bazaars, sure, but this—this is on another level," Ishaan said, bouncing in place.
"Then let's enjoy it to the fullest," Estella said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the stalls.
"Be careful, you two!" Isabella called after them, shaking her head. She exhaled with a faint smile. "Rare to see someone match Estella's pace. Makes me feel old."
Aaron chuckled quietly, sketchbook balanced on his knee. "Saying that makes us sound like we're pushing fifty."
Her gaze softened as she caught a glimpse of his page—the street performer, already captured in flowing graphite strokes. "You draw?"
Aaron flushed slightly. "It's easier than talking sometimes. Been doing it for a while."
"And what started it?" she asked gently.
He hesitated, fingers tightening around his pencil. "I… felt detached for a long time. Overwhelmed. Like I wanted to vanish. Ishaan once asked me to help him draw a mitochondria for school, and somehow… sketching became a way to deal with everything. I can't say I've figured it all out, but drawing helps me breathe."
Isabella's expression softened, her voice low. "I understand. That weight—you carried it alone, yet you found your own way forward. That's strength, Aaron. More than you think."
Something shifted in the air, a calm tide rising between them. Aaron opened his mouth—"Isabella…"—but Ishaan's voice cut across the marketplace.
"Oi! You old people coming or what?"
Aaron sighed, half amused, half annoyed. Isabella chuckled. "We'd better go before they start calling us grandparents."
Aaron smiled faintly, tucking his sketchbook away. For the first time in a long while, he felt a strange calm he didn't want to shake off. Maybe, just maybe, this adventure could be more than he had ever expected.