"Hey… are you okay?" Arsh said as he bent down. The child slammed into him so hard that Arsh thought the boy might be injured.
The boy lifted his head and looked at him, but instead of answering the question, he just kept staring at Arsh with a wide smile on his face.
"I guess you're okay," he said as he picked the child up. The child was small—too small to be wandering the streets alone at this hour. Judging by the clothes, it was also clear that he wasn't homeless.
"How old are you? Where are your mother and father?" But his questions continued to go unanswered.
"Does he not know Eldoran?" he muttered to himself as he looked around.
The streets were crowded, but most of the people in this area seemed to be adventurers, pirates, and merchants rather than local families with children. Though the child didn't seem Eldoran either. Finding the child's parents like this was impossible. He couldn't leave him here alone either.
On top of that, he hadn't been able to contact the girl for a while, and the only thing she had said was to keep the child.
When he turned around to go back to Juan with the child in his arms, someone grabbed him and threw him aside, sending him crashing onto his back.
He immediately looked at the child, but thankfully the child seemed unharmed. But he was staring fearfully at the group of men who had thrown them.
"You dare steal our property!" one of the men shouted.
Arsh hesitated for a moment and looked between the child and the men, searching for any resemblance. He also tried to recall the Eldoran word for "property."
If they were referring to the child like that, it was impossible that they were his family. Besides, they looked far too ugly to be related to such a cute child.
"Property? What the hell are you talking about?" Arsh shouted back. These men had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and were talking nonsense.
"That kid belongs to us."
"Oh, these must be slave hunters. There are five of them. Taking them down wouldn't be hard... but I have a child with me," Arsh said to himself.
Because he was speaking in his own language, the men in front of him seemed to grow angry. The people around them seemed to understand what was happening, but instead of intervening, they watched with anticipation, as if an entertaining fight was about to begin.
"This one also has a good physique, and his face tells me he's not that old. Maybe I can sell him too," one of the men laughed before shouting, "Catch him!"
When one of the men lunged at him, Arsh managed to kick him without letting go of the child. He didn't dare put the child down in the middle of this crowd, and that made his movements slower and clumsier. Still, luckily, his kick landed in a perfect spot, the man collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
Unfortunately, when the other three men rushed at him one after another, there was no way for him to dodge this time. An elbow slammed into his face.
He staggered backward, but still refused to let go of the child.
"Grab those slaves!" the same man shouted again.
Just then, another voice pierced through the men's shouts and the rumbling crowd. When Arsh heard it, he felt a brief sense of relief. Now, he could finally step aside with the child and join the crowd to watch the show.
"Slave... did you say slave?" Juan said.
He wasn't actually shouting. But his voice was loud enough to silence the surroundings, and enough to make the hot Eldoran air feel colder.
When the men turned around to see who had spoken, they found themselves face to face with Juan.
Juan, however, was looking at Arsh instead.
"Did they do that to your nose?" Juan asked, his voice sounding calm but carrying a distinct threat.
"Yes," Arsh replied. His nose had actually started bleeding before, but that didn't change the fact that the men had just thrown an elbow into his face.
What followed was a brief show. Amidst the men's shouts of "Who the hell are you?", Juan broke their hands as if snapping toothpicks. Even without using his siuni, and even if he didn't have siuti, he was a powerful man.
"We swear, we didn't kidnap him! He was just wandering around here all alone. After following him for a bit, we realized he had no one... His hair color is so unusual. We thought we could get good money for him if we sold him at the slave market!" the men began to wail. Although this wasn't the reason Juan was beating them, they had completely misunderstood. But when Juan looked over and saw the child in Arsh's arms, it didn't take him long to realize what was going on.
After beating the men up a bit more, they left with the child.
"Hey, little guy," Juan said, taking the child's hand. "Why is he so tiny?" The boy hid his face in Arsh's neck.
"Of course he's small, he's a child."
"But isn't he a bit too small to be out on his own... How old do you think he is? Two or three?"
"Probably... What should we do? Can we find his family?"
"...I would say let's go to the police, but the police here are no different from pirates. Children like him always end up in the slave market... I've never seen anyone with this hair color before, so maybe it'll be easy to find his family."
"But we don't have time for that. We need to return to Pirene tomorrow morning," said Arsh.
"Alright… then you can stay with us tonight, and tomorrow as well. Hmm… he seems to like you," Juan said, taking a fragrant fruit from one of the paper bags in his hand and gave it to the child.
...
The green-haired child was with them on the boat. They didn't have anywhere to leave him. He was too small to be left alone in the room at the inn. He hadn't left Arsh's side for a single moment since last night. Juan even had to hold him when Arsh went to the bathroom.
Now, he was sitting on the floor of the boat, holding onto Arsh's leg with one hand while eating the snacks Juan had bought for him with the other.
Last night, he suddenly heard the girl's voice again, but it was only momentary. After that, she went silent. Even though he tried to contact her after Juan and the child fell asleep, it was all in vain.
She had told him to keep the child. He didn't know why she had said that, but it was obvious there was something strange about the boy. Still, he was grateful that Juan hadn't rushed to find the child's family right away and had instead allowed them to bring him along.
When they arrived in Pirene, they found the fisherman at the pier again. He was sitting all by himself, mending his fishing nets. Unlike yesterday, he welcomed them with a warm smile instead of strange looks.
"Welcome! Oh, we have a little guest today as well. Come on, let me take you to Old Milor's house," the man said.
Leaving the pier, they walked back along the same paths they had taken the day before and arrived at Old Milor's house.
Old Milor was indeed an old man. Just as the fisherman had tried to describe on the way over, he was old enough to be growing his teeth for the third time. Wrinkles and sunspots covered his entire body, and only a few strands of white hair were left on his head. Yet he still had a straight posture and a strong, booming voice. The fisherman said that the old man would go out to walk around the island at sunrise every morning and only return to the village around midnight.
"I haven't seen anyone except the villagers for a long time. It's nice to see new faces," the man said as he welcomed the visitors into his home.
After a short conversation, they finally reached the topic they had come for.
"So, I hear you're looking for Seyra's gift. I'm not really interested in it, but I have seen the worms that guard it. I've seen them. I was already an old man back then, just waiting for death—who knows how long ago that was. His father was a still a newborn at the time," he said, gesturing toward the fisherman who had accompanied them. Arsh couldn't tell if he meant this literally or metaphorically. The fisherman already looked like he was in his sixties.