Mayhem
Chapter 3: The Steampunk King: Sphere of illusions
(From Leon's perspective)
—I wrote my story, — said Marcel, bursting into the common hall.
Everyone immediately looked at him.
I was lying on the floor, covering my face with a newspaper. Of course, that didn't stop him; he came straight to me.
—As my best friend, you will have the honor of reading it first, — he declared.
—Not the best reward, you know, — I replied. —But fine, give it here. I've got nothing else to do anyway.
The story wasn't long, but even in those five pages, he managed to stuff so much unnecessary stuff that I genuinely admired it.
—It's been a while since I read a good story, — I said, handing him back the pages. —I hope I'll read one soon.
On Marcel's face, pride appeared first. Then he understood. And he laughed himself.
—Come on, I just started, — he said.
—Listen, for objectivity, others should read it too, — I added.
Besides us, there was only one guy our age sitting in the common hall. Hearing this, he silently stood up and left, as if nothing had happened.
Marcel and I exchanged glances and laughed.
—Poor guy, — I said. —He got scared. Anyway, better read the newspaper. By the way, they wrote about us there.
—Seriously? — Marcel was surprised. —And you're only telling me this now?
I lowered the newspaper, showing the headline:
"Three teenagers, trying to catch two thieves, accidentally killed both and burned down the market."
—Are they even normal? — Marcel indignated. —At least they didn't print our faces.
—And when did we burn down the market? — I added. —Only a couple of stalls caught fire. And I put them out myself.
—And we didn't even touch the thieves, — he continued. —One killed the other there.
—Well, that's the press, — I shrugged. —You don't expect anything else from them.
We laughed a bit more, then went outside.
It was approaching six in the evening.
We went out onto the street.
On the roof of one of the buildings was a stop for air sailing ships — the public transport of the City of Winds. We boarded one of them and headed to another district, known for its street food from all over the world.
The buildings here were low, from two to four stories. But above the city towered dozens of huge windmills. Because of them, air vessels flew significantly higher than the roofs.
We landed and went to look for somewhere to eat.
The district turned out to be noisy and lively. Narrow streets were packed with colorful stalls. Some pulled with such a smell that saliva immediately flowed, from others you wanted to stay away. The streets shone with lights: lanterns hung on buildings, stretchers, and even right between the roofs of buildings.
Suddenly, an old geezer called out to us with Marcel.
—Hey, kids, — he said in a hoarse voice. —Won't you help me move the tables? In return, I'll treat you to free meat soup.
We exchanged glances.
—Free is free, — Marcel shrugged.
We agreed.
The old man led us after him. He turned out to have his own restaurant, located in one of the buildings. The place looked expensive: clean floors, heavy wooden tables, neat lamps. Too neat.
We moved a couple of tables and chairs from one place to another. Why, I never understood. Essentially, nothing changed. But we didn't ask extra questions.
—Sit down, — said the old man. —I'll bring you soup now.
He went to the kitchen.
We sat at the nearest table. Though we could choose any — the restaurant was absolutely empty.
—Doesn't it seem strange to you that there's no one here? — I asked.
—It does, — Marcel replied. —Very much so.
But we didn't attach importance to it.
The old man returned and placed in front of us two portions of meat soup, a carbonated drink, and two kinds of salad.
The food turned out to be unexpectedly tasty. So much that I forgot about everything else for a while.
While we were eating, the old man approached the table again and placed in front of us a sphere about the size of my fist. It stood on a small platform of black stone.
—What do you think of this sphere? — he asked.
—Looks ordinary, glass, — I replied.
—This is a gift from me to you, — said the old man and placed it exactly in the center of the table.
After that, he turned around and left through the main door.
We finished the soup and decided to wait for him to thank him.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then half an hour.
He didn't return.
—He's not coming back, — said Marcel, exhaling heavily. —Something's wrong here… but I can't figure out what.
—Yeah, — I replied. —Let's go. We'll thank him another time.
We stood up and were about to leave, but Marcel suddenly stopped.
—Oh, almost forgot, — he said and took the sphere.
We returned to the orphanage and went to bed.
The next morning started as usual.
The alarm clock rang, and everyone, getting out of bed, went to wash up.
I was leaving the room one of the last and noticed that Marcel was still sitting on his bed.
I came closer and immediately understood that something was wrong with him. His gaze was strange, unfocused. Confused.
I had never seen him like that before.
—Marcel.
He flinched, as if I had pulled him out of another world, and only then looked at me.
—Are you okay? — I asked.
—Yes… everything's fine, — he replied and stood up sharply. —Let's go wash up quickly.
—Yeah, — I said and followed him.
During breakfast and classes, Marcel behaved strangely. He stared out the window for long periods and didn't notice anything around. Neither the teachers' questions nor the classmates' conversations.
After classes, we returned to the orphanage and changed. The whole way, we didn't say a word to each other.
—So, shall we go to Mr. Charles? — I asked.
—Go alone today, — he replied, without looking at me. —I'm tired. I need to sleep.
—Okay, — I said. —But if there are problems, tell me right away.
—Yeah.
As I was leaving the room, I glanced: Marcel was already lying on the bed, clutching the sphere in his hands. That very one.
When I returned, it was already around eight in the evening. Marcel was still lying.
—Did you sleep? — I asked.
—Yes, — he answered shortly.
—And did you have dinner? — I asked.
—Yes, — he replied.
—Maybe come down to the common hall? The guys are worried.
He sharply raised his gaze to me.
—Leon, mind your own business. Leave me alone, — he said in a raised tone.
—Why did you yell at Grandma Rita when she came to check on you? — I asked. —The guys told me.
—I'm not in the mood today, — he said and covered his head with the blanket.
—Okay, — I said calmly. —When you want to talk, I'll listen.
I left. Pressing him now was useless. It could only make everything worse.
The next day, Marcel didn't go to school. He didn't even get out of bed.
When I returned after classes, he was fast asleep. I tried to wake him; he opened his eyes for a second and fell back into sleep.
In the evening, returning from the part-time job, I saw the same thing.
Then I understood: we can't wait any longer.
I burst into the room sharply and started rummaging through his things. He didn't even wake up from that.
And there, in his backpack, which was lying next to his bed, I found a whole pack of pills. It was sleeping pills. I got furious.
I yanked the blanket off him and saw the sphere in his hands. He was clutching it to his chest.
I tried to snatch it.
Marcel woke up sharply and hit me in the face.
I hit him back.
I snatched the sphere and threw it against the floor with all my strength. It didn't crack. Not a single scratch. It was either very durable glass or some other material.
Marcel lunged at me and bit my hand with his teeth. I screamed in pain. Blood immediately flowed from me. I got even more furious.
He backed off, as if coming to his senses, but I knocked him to the floor and started beating him.
The guys burst into the room and pulled us apart.
—Let go… I won't do it anymore, — said Marcel and left.
—What happened here? — asked one of the guys.
—I don't know yet, — I replied.
They washed my hand and bandaged it. At that time, Marcel was silently taking a shower in the neighboring stall.
When I returned, he was sitting on his bed, staring at the floor.
—Have you calmed down? — I asked.
—Forgive me, — he said quietly. —Let's talk tomorrow.
—Deal, — I replied.
Then went to sleep.
...
The alarm clock woke me. The room was already flooded with bright morning sunlight, and the curtain by the window swayed from a light breeze. This was my room — spacious, with new, luxurious furniture.
I went down to the first floor. Mom was there, preparing pancakes for breakfast.
—Leon, you're already awake? — she said.
—Yeah… awake, — I replied and sat at the table.
At that moment, father came down the stairs. Mom put a plate of pancakes in front of me.
—Eat faster, Leon, — said father. —Or you'll be late for school.
—Yeah, — I answered uncertainly.
I had breakfast, got dressed, and went to school. On the way, I met Lily.
—Hi, Leon, — she said, smiling.
—Hi, — I replied.
—Let's hurry, we have a math test today, — she said.
—Wow, even in such a good dream there's a math test, — I said.
—What are you talking about? — she was surprised.
—Nothing. Let's go faster.
We went to school together…
...
I woke up from the alarm clock ringing. This time, already on my bed, in the orphanage.
For about five minutes, I just sat, realizing what had just happened. At that time, Marcel approached me.
—Did you see a dream too? — he asked.
—No, it wasn't a dream, — I replied. —It felt as real as real life.
—And how good was it? — asked Marcel.
—I would want to stay in it forever, — I said. —Do you have any sleeping pills left?
—I threw them out yesterday, — he replied. —And I haven't touched the sphere since our fight, though it was hard.
—Did you see a dream tonight? — I asked.
—I didn't sleep tonight, — he replied. —We need to destroy this sphere as soon as possible.
—Why? — I asked.
—You understand yourself that it's dangerous. It's worse than drugs, — he replied.
—And where is the sphere now? — I asked.
—Isn't it with you? — he asked in return.
—No, — I said. —I thought it was with you.
I jumped up sharply.
—We need to get it back as soon as possible, — I said. —I have to go back there, to my family.
—Leon, I won't let you become a victim of this sphere, — Marcel said firmly. —And I won't touch it myself anymore.
Deep down, I understood that all these dreams were just illusions. I shouldn't give in to them.
—Sorry, Marcel. I couldn't help you in a difficult moment, and now you have to help me.
—No, forgive me for not sharing with you earlier, — he replied. —I have a theory.
—And what is it? — I asked.
—I thought about it all night. That black stone on which the sphere stood… What if it's exactly that which neutralizes its power? I remember that the old man didn't touch the sphere itself, but held exactly that stone.
—Most likely, you're right, — I said. —We need to find the sphere as soon as possible and check it. But remember: don't let me touch it consciously, and I won't let you do the same.
—Deal, — he said. —I think we should start with this room.
—Then wait until the others leave for school.
—Good.
We waited until everyone left and started inspecting the room. We checked every corner and found nothing. Then we rummaged through the other guys' things, also without result. We searched the entire orphanage, but there was no trace of the sphere.
—I checked the common hall, it's empty there, — I said.
—I inspected the kitchen and bathroom, nothing there either, — Marcel replied.
We sat and thought.
—Maybe eat something? — he suggested. —It's harder to think on an empty stomach.
—Yeah, worth eating… wait! — I stood up sharply. —We need to go back to that restaurant.
—Exactly, — he nodded. —And eat in that district too.
We headed there. During the day, the district where the old man's restaurant was located was not as lively as at night. We snacked at one of the counters and approached that very place. The restaurant was closed.
—Let's wait, — said Marcel.
—Yeah. Find a more comfortable spot to watch, — I replied. —I feel we'll have to wait a long time.
We settled in one of the alleys and started observing. But, sitting until night, we didn't see the old man. The restaurant remained closed.
We returned to the orphanage and went to bed.
The alarm clock rang. A new day began. I got up and immediately approached Marcel.
—Did you see a dream? — I asked.
—No, I didn't, — he replied. —So our theory is correct?
—Most likely, — I said.
Yesterday, while watching the restaurant, we assumed that the sphere's influence has limitations. We concluded that if you don't touch it for a certain time before sleep, it won't work. Today, it seems, our theory was confirmed.
For another couple of minutes, we pretended to talk about something and discreetly observed the guys' behavior, then went to wash up. After taking a shower, we stood at one sink brushing our teeth.
—And Ryan still hasn't gotten out of bed? — asked Marcel.
—I didn't see him here, — I replied. —Most likely, he's still lying.
—Then we need to talk to him seriously, — said Marcel.
—Yeah. For now, act normal. Wait until everyone leaves, — I said. —Most likely, he won't go to school today.
—Sometimes it seems to me that you think I'm a bit dumb, — he said.
—Why do you think that? — I replied. —"A bit dumb" is still too soft for you.
He cupped water in his palms and splashed it right on my pants.
—Oh, Leon, forgive your dumb friend, please, — he said playfully. —Now everyone will think you wet yourself in your sleep.
And indeed, he splashed water in the most inappropriate place.