Pearl

An Ocean of Dreams Fanfiction

The cavern was illuminated only by the pearl. It was a creamy white with tiny rainbows dancing around on its surface, making it almost look alive. The pearl floated several inches above a natural--or maybe magical--fountain of water that was fed from a stream across the cavern floor. White light bathed the cavern, constantly shifting, throwing shadows about and making tiny crystals in the wall sparkle.

"How did I get here?" Adrin murmured, approaching the fountain and the pearl. He felt as if he was in a trance, as if someone else was controlling his body. Cool spray from the fountain washed over him, and Adrin reached out to touch the pearl…

*

He blinked, slowly waking up. The air around him smelled stale, like a mixture of sweat, dirt and garbage. Light flooded over him, although it wasn’t natural. It was dim and mechanical, and appeared watery through a veil of smog. If the moon was there- Adrin knew instinctively it was night--it, too, was blotted out by the smog.

Where am I? He thought, standing up and observing his surroundings. He’d been half-lying, half-sitting asleep, maybe unconscious, in an alley. Buildings rose into the sky on either side of the alley, farther up than he’d ever seen before. The alley itself was strewn with trash and dirt, and covered in a thin film of scum. Adrin became painfully aware that his skin was disgustingly unwashed as the alley,. He ran a hand through his hair, to discover it was grimy and tangled.

His hand brushed over his ear, and a sense of shock flooded over him. His ear felt wrong, it felt… It felt round, if felt human. How… What? He thought frantically, feeling an earring in one ear. Checking the other revealed it to be just as humanoid, but at least it was without decoration.

His clothing had radically changed, too. He now wore a tight gray T-shirt, much tighter than he was used to, covered by a black leather jacket. He was wearing jeans, also too tight, with one knee ripped out.

Adrin concentrated on trying recall what had happened last, but his memories were dim and sketchy. I remember leaving the group, he thought. I didn’t know where I was going but I couldn’t stop. I remember it felt like something was guiding me… Might as well look around.

Adrin made his way from the ally to what must have been a main road. Neon signs illuminated it, and occasional cars made their way past. Other people did, too, most of them looking as lost and lonely as he felt. He was stranded and alone, and slightly scared. Realizing this must be the world Jeremy and Merene came from didn’t help at all.

His stomach rumbled. He saw some restaurants, but none he’d trust the food from. And besides, he knew he’d need money. Digging in his pocket revealed a wallet. There was ID inside, which told him his name was Adrian Kirok. How can this be? I know my name….

Another pocket yielded some of the green paper money that he knew Jeremy and Merene used. He didn’t know how much it was worth, but hoped it was enough for a meal. He was starving now, and stopped at the first restaurant he came to that looked halfway decent.

Inside, he took a seat. A girl brought him a menu. She was around seventeen, and should have been quite pretty. Her hair was black and hung to the bottom of her shoulder-blades, and her eyes were deep blue. However, she looked sad and her eyes were haunted, marring her beauty.

He ordered something large and ate greedily. Food restored his confidence. If this is Merene’s world, maybe she’s back here too. Maybe I can find her or Jeremy. A woman came to collect his payment. She vaguely resembled the waitress, except much rounder. Her hair had been permed and she wore much too much eyeshadow.

"I hope this is enough," Adrin told her. "It’s all I have."

She counted the cash and slammed it back on to the table. "It ain’t," she said. "You’re eleven short."

"I’m sorry, it’s all-"

"You can work it off in the kitchen. Jest keep your hands off my daughter. Hey, Amara!" The waitress joined them. "Take this bum to the kitchen and tell Max he owes us eleven dollars worth of dishwashing."

The girl, presumably Amara, nodded and lead the way. Adrin didn’t object, since he had nowhere else to go.

Max was a tall, thin man. His hairline was nearly non-existant, and he was constantly pushing wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. He appeared to be a cook for the restaurant, in charge of the four other people who were working.

"Hey, Max. Ma says he owes us eleven dollars and to have him do dishes," Amara said.

Max nodded and gave Adrin brief instructions. He had been working for almost an hour when a few shouts in the main room got his attention. He followed Max out to see what was happening, and the scene was unpleasant.

An unruly customer had been rather inappropriate with Amara. She was lying on the floor now, shaking in fear. Her mother had demanded the man leave, and he’s slugged her and pulled out a gun. Now, everyone stood frozen.

"You need to leave now," he said, calmly walking towards the man. The man just looked at him in surprise, since not many people walked towards psychos who were holding guns.

"I don’t think so," he said eventually, aiming at Adrin. But by then, Adrin was close enough to grab the gun in his right hand, step closer, and punch the man with his left hand. The man reeled from the blow, his nose bleeding. He backed away, abandoning the gun, which Adrin tossed to Amara’s mother.

The man bellowed with rage after a few moments, and charged towards the Elorhan. Adrin stepped out of his way casually. He turned to see Adrin leaning casually against a chair, and charged at him again. Rather than sidestepping, this time Adrin lifted the chair, swung, and connected.

The man slumped to the floor. As the people in the room stared at him, stunned, he turned and walked back into the kitchen. By the time Amara’s mother came in, he’d taken up a rag and was back to drying a load of dishes.

"You got a name, kid?" she asked.

"Ad… Adrian," he said, deciding on the Earth name.

"Where’re you from?"

"I don’t really know, ma’am," he said politely. It was partially the truth; he knew where he was from but not how he’d gotten here. And a half-lie was better than the truth, which she probably wouldn’t believe.

"Oh, one of them, " she said sympathetically. "You got a place to go tonight?"

"No, ma’am," he answered.

"Got a job?"

"No, ma’am."

She considered him. "You do now. We get lots of that sort in here, even criminals want a good meal sometimes and we got the best in this part of town. Poor Amara, she’s terrified of them- they don’t usually pull guns, though. We’re always stuck waiting for the police, and sometimes it’s an hour

or more before they show up. I’d been thinking about hiring some muscle to keep that sort away, and you certainly got muscle. You want the job, kid?"

He nodded. "Thank you, ma’am," he said.

"You got good manners, too. Call me Belle. Hey, Max-" the cook turned to them- "You got a spare couch at your place?" Max nodded. "Good. Adrian can crash at your house tonight then. See if you can wash him off before tomorrow, and maybe find some clothes for him."

"Sure thing, Belle. Me and Francie are always happy to help the downtrodden. I got a son about your size, I bet some of his old things would fit you alright…"