Page 22 of New World

Instead, the boy turned back to the stall, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a few credits. “I’ll take two,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The merchant nodded and handed him a pair of wrapped pastries. The boy held one out to Dorane, who blinked at him in shock.

“Are you buying me off, Legion?” he drawled.

“No,” the boy said simply. “I just don’t want to eat alone.”

Dorane snorted, taking the pastry from his hand. “That the official training manual response, or do you actually think that works?”

The boy tilted his head slightly. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Dorane’s smirk faltered. Alright, maybe this kid wasn’t as soft as he looked. Dorane took a defiant bite. “Fine,” he muttered around the mouthful. “But if it’s poisoned, I’ll haunt you.”

The boy didn’t smile, but something in his expression shifted. “Noted.” Dorane watched as the boy turned to the vendor who was watching their exchange with amusement and asked, “Is this poisoned?”

“No. It would be very bad for business if I killed all my customers,” the merchant chuckled.

“Thank you,” the boy responded before turning back to Dorane.

“Point taken,” Dorane reluctantly admitted.

“My name is Roan, by the way. I—Do you want to go somewhere—to talk?” Roan asked as they walked through the marketplace.

Dorane didn’t miss how Roan’s eyes kept scanning the crowd. He noticed that every time a Legion soldier came into view, the boy changed directions. Dorane had been in plenty of tight spots before, but sneaking away from a bunch of Legion guards with a high-ranking officer’s kid was a first.

“Sure. I’m Dorane LeGaugh,” he introduced.

“Follow me,” Roan murmured, changing directions again when a group of three soldiers came into sight.

Dorane caught on fast: this boy, Roan, was practiced at slipping away. He had no wasted movements, no hesitation as he wove them through the winding paths of the market. Dorane had to admit, he was impressed.

They crossed a narrow bridge, the wind tugging at their clothes as they stepped onto another floating island. This one was smaller, quieter. Trees with long, drooping leaves lined the edge, their roots twisting around jagged rock formations.

Roan followed a long, winding path as if he knew where he was going, and they emerged at an overlook where several low walls allowed visitors to sit and gaze out across the vast landscape. Dorane gulped when he saw the sea of floating islands. It was magical. Roan walked over and sat on the edge, looking out at the sky. Dorane hesitated, then plopped down beside him.

They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the massive moth-flyers glide between the cliffs. The creatures moved with lazy grace, their glowing wings illuminating the darkening sky.

Roan spoke first. “You don’t like the Legion.”

Dorane huffed a laugh. “Understatement of the year.”

Roan was quiet for a moment. “Why?”

Dorane turned to him, incredulous. “Are you serious? Your Legion took my planet, killed my parents, and threw me to the streets like garbage. You’re really asking me why I don't like the Legion?”

Roan’s hands curled into fists, a torrent of words behind his eyes and every line of his body, but the only words he gave were: “It wasn’t my choice.”

Dorane studied him, hearing what could have been a statement of defensiveness but instead was a startling glimpse of rage and helplessness. An invisible cage pressing down on the soldier boy’s shoulders. Dorane exhaled, shaking his head. “No. But you keep going back to them.”

Roan’s jaw tightened. “You think it’s that simple?”

Dorane shrugged. “I think you’re too good at avoiding Legion soldiers for a kid who’s supposed to be following orders. You choose to go back. Why?”

Roan didn’t answer. Instead, he watched the moth-flyers, his gaze distant.

Dorane leaned back on his elbows. “I can think of lots of reasons… but if you don’t wanna share, that’s fine. At least I got a shot at being free. What about you?”

Roan’s expression darkened.

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