8. Cousins of the Elite Rulers

 

A day before the Universe knows about Quents inheritance 

I've often made a fool of myself for protection, it helps cover my unavoidable knowledge of my mission. This enabled me to be seen as a harmless soul, and I am one, just not the one I present to be. My family is of the Remelan bloodline, making us cousins to the Larferna Royal family. 723 years ago, Earth was dying due to over population, so when 80% of humanity left Earth, our world slowly started to heal on its own. The remaining 20% was instructed to pro-create and work jobs that only benefited the world. Meaning usage of wood, oil pumping and many other Planet destroying jobs were banned. Then roughly 500 years later, about 21 abnormal trees started to sprout all around Earth, they were a shock to the whole Galaxy. I don’t know the exact height and why its still alive, but only one of the 21 trees managed to reach up to space within 200 years. The rest of the 20 trees only reached up to roughly 3000 feet. The one in space is the one they call the Larferna tree. For distant reasons, the Larferna family has owned this tree since the day it sprouted, and these are the trees responsible for Earth’s fast recovery. What an honour to be their cousin right? 

"Octlyn, can I speak to you about tomorrows shift?” asked Kerra.

“Sure,” I responded, while watching the people that we had just shared brief understandings pour out of the room.

“I want you to show Quent around the restaurant tomorrow, give him the role of kitchen assistant. I will give him a real title once we’ve established how he works.”

“Insulting assistants now?” I said, surprised. 

“I've had s**t experiences with those types,” teased Kerra. 

“Their whole job is based around helping people, being selfless and getting payed for it is a great job” I said. 

“I want you to call Quent, by Quent.” 

“Obviously,” I said. 

“I know you love your nicknames but for once, just ignore giving Quent a nickname,”

“I wasn’t going to anyway, Quent’s already a f*****g nickname.” 

She waved me off, “goodnight Octlyn.” 

“Great-night,” I mumbled sarcastically, then left the room. I walked to my locker and picked up my bag, then I nicked some dragon fruits from the kitchen counter, and exited out into the dark a*s forest to see Quent standing there, alone. 

“Hey, Quent, why so solemn?” I asked. 

“Um, I forgot to bring a tor�"”

“Torch?” I broke in, “I did that the first time I worked here. I had to walk in the dark, fell twice and skinned my knee.” 

Quent gave me a subtle chuckle and excused himself for laughing at my accident. I couldn’t help but say, “Well, good luck walking in the dark, my friend.” I took out a torch from my bag and walked away from him while trying to hide my laugher. After a few steps, I turned back to see that Quent was just smiling at the floor, accepting the situation without compliant. 

“I’m joking, Quent, what way you headed anyway?” I asked politely, he looked up.

“Just south that way,” he said softly. 

“Same here, care to share some of my light?” I offered. 

“If that’s okay with you?” 

“I wouldn’t have asked if it bothered me.” I tried to give him my best apologetic smirk, and then we headed towards the pitch black forest. 

Quent’s been walking with his eyes down ever since we’ve entered the woods. Is it just plain shyness or what?

“What’s on the floor, Quent?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep looking at the floor, if you're seeing something I can’t. Share the info at least.”

“It’s windy, and lowering my eyelids helps with the shielding of it. Allowing I to blink less, and if the wind does get under my eyes, then blinking would be much faster because my eyelids are already lowered. Saving me time with added efficiency.” 

I started keeping my eyes lowered too, and mentally gutted myself for thinking the common. 

“I’ve tried to influence Kerra to install street lamps but she just waved off my suggestion like always. I mean, I said it’s not just for staff use but for our late customers as well.” 

“Have any customers complained about the situation before?” asked Quent.

“A vastly of times, but Kerra just said she couldn’t afford it.” 

“I’m guessing she’s trying to lure in investors?”

“She’s taking her time luring then.”

“How long has this gone on for?”

“Since they opened, about three years ago.”

“Ah,” he replied, then we paced in silence for a while, it wasn’t uncomfortable but I do wonder why he’s so quiet. He hasn’t asked me a small talk question yet, such as, where are you from? You like it here? How long have you been working at Kerra’s? S**t like that. His silence is freaking me out because it makes me feel like I’m not interesting enough to talk to. I know I sound a tad bit self centred, but acknowledging my selfishness does f**k all to my overall personality, personally speaking here. So I decided to start the small talk myself, to force out some of the tension. 

“So, what you got planned for tonight, Quent?” I asked cheerfully. Did that sounded too forced?

“Think I’m just going to search online for a decent torch.”

“You can borrow mines until you get one?” I offered. There was a tedious pause before Quent spoke up, “Its cool man, I’ve got access to half-day delivery service. What about you? What have you got planned tonight?”. 

“I have to go pick up my new automated carriage from the local bike stables first, then I think am going to go for a wee cruise in it.” 

“Any idea where you’re going?”

“Don’t know yet, any suggestions?” while hoping he’ll say no, he shrugged and replied, “None… Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said it with relief. “I think you and I should fill ourselves with the knowledge on suggesting places to go, just in case some hotties ask us for locale suggestions. And in order to expand our suggesting skills, we need to explore.” There was a brief silence and I thought to myself if maybe that was too much? I couldn’t let it go so I asked again, this time more bluntly. 

“So you coming or what?”

“Sure,” snapped Quent. Relief flooded me, then I replayed his ‘sure’ in my mind and I recognised that there was a mix of excitement and a sick desperation in his voice, which gave me a 100% understanding that he does in fact have an interest in being my friend. He was just shy all along, how could I be so stupid! My disguise as a fool is starting to consume me… 

As we neared the outskirts of the forest, we finally arrived to where my new bike carriage is stationed. “Mr. Harpre?” I shouted.

“Aye, what you want noe? Your bike thing eh?” he replied. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” I said. 

“I had to stay overtime just to give you this damn bike carriage.”

“Guess I’ll have to tip you then, eh?”

“Well, it could go towards me pension.” 

I handed the stableman the money I owed him, and he started to bring out my new carriage.

“Al-right thanks,” I said, as I turned away from Mr. Harpre.

“Quent, hop on my carriage mate.”  

We started to roam about Derutin City, starting simple conversations and not finishing them, we both knew it would ease the tension and help get a simple understanding of each others vibes, but it was starting to get a bit tedious, so I decided it was time to move onto deeper stuff. He was still tense so I thought maybe I ought to give him something to relax. 

“Have you ever been to Mount Nuru before?” I asked.

He shook his head. 

Its like talking to a dog, speak boy! I smiled and said, “You’ll see it tonight.”

He nodded again. 

The road up Mount Nuru was interesting, as always, even without the conversations one would expect from a newcomer. Quent simply shared no input of the eeriness, didn’t complain about the bumps we cycled over, nothing. We eventually made it to my secret spot. I walked out of the carriage and grabbed something inside the wheels and came back in. I unwrapped the bag which revealed happiness upon those capable of smell. I took one out and lit it, had a few draws and instantly became an alternate self. 

“You want some?” I offered.

He shrugged. “What is it?”

“These go by a vast number of names, I nickname them sticks of joy.”

“What can they do?” I just told you, they give you joy…

“They make things that don’t make sense, make sense,” I said instead. 

“Like a brain boaster?” 

“Yeah! But the effects vary for different types of people.”

“Such as?” 

“Weed can be used as a tool to help analyse or get a feel of what type of person you’re smoking with. For example, musicians that get high usually leads to a creativity boast through music. Same for writers but in literature form, but what if a violent maniac smokes it?”  

“A boast in creativity for hurting humans?”         

“Quite possibly,” I answered, and continued. “The law makers that claim weed is bad for the human soul, should alert you to think what type of person they are for saying such a thing. Because they must have had some pretty bad experiences with it, in order to go through the trouble of banning a plant that could most likely do no harm to harmless minds. If you prepare your brain to allow in a certain amount of fun, then smoking weed should definitely enhance it.” I took a drink of water then.

“What type of effects do you think I would get?” Quent took a drink of water also.

“It enhances your mood, so if you project negativity from a daily basis then you’ll most likely get a bad trip. If you are positive and open minded, you’ll have a higher chance of getting a fun high.” I raised the joint in front of him, “I happen to get extraordinary magnanimous when I smoke it.” Quent took the joint from me gently and inhaled it lightly, and blew it out suddenly. 

“It only works if you inhale it, Quent.”

“I’ll try again.” This went on for a while to the point that I was actually starting to sober up, and I understand that he’s new to this, so I remained patient. You can’t rush these things because it can lead to a bad trip, and that could put him off weed completely. 

“I’m sorry for wasting the joint,” said Quent. 

“Don’t be man, it’s a very common situation for beginners,” I tried to give him a comforting smile but it didn’t seem to convince him. 

“I was quite nervy when I first smoked it, because I was asked to inhale something that I had no experience with. I’ve heard some decent and s**t stories about what the side effects are, and I was petrified that I would walk away with a bad one.”

“What story did you walk away with?” 

“I believe in balanced friendships, Quent. We can trade stories, but you don’t have one yet.” I grinned and handed him a new joint. “Time you create one.”