“I close my eyes and they’re wet with tears. The waves of the past pull me out to sea.” - The Diaries of Baylan Spear Juzo wrapped his long duster around his bony torso, crossing his arms, feigning an affectation of being cold. The wind harshly tunneled through the shop-lined street leading into the market quarters, tossing his gray hair over his head. He walked by candles burning in windows as people read, took evening elixir, and chatted with loved ones before drifting into the realm of dreams.... Juzo rubbed at the back of his neck, leaving one arm tight across his body. His red eye shifted from side to side of the cobbled street, expecting an ambush from an intersecting alley. No ambush came. Midgaard was beautifully quiet at night. The street torches burned and sun relented the last of its burning fury. Juzo liked it better this way. At twilight, no one would jump at the sight of his eye color or ask him if he needed to see the surgeon. At night, he could wave to a passing man without him staring at him like he was a display in the Artifact Museum.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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