Zino silenced one of the villagers by holding up his hand. He had no interest in the comings and goings of peasants. Festivals were never something that held his attention, and he had never cared for company--especially the company of strangers. He wasn’t even sure they were [i]real[/i], let alone human, anyhow. The inhabitants seemed like automatons masquerading as people. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]Annoying,[/i][/color]' the agent thought to himself, “[color=eee0e5][i]Surely these cattle can’t be what Miss Three meant as my compatriots…[/i][/color]” The person continued to speak, but Zino ignored them, drowning them out with his thoughts. 

The man instead turned his attention to the market before him. A few stalls lined the unpaved road. It reminded him of the farmer’s markets that cropped up around town in the summer. Icy eyes scanned the produce; some of the fruits and vegetables he recognized, but many he did not. A strange purple berry caught his attention. It was perfectly round and covered in blunt spikes. He reached to pick it up, but he felt something tugging at his sleeve. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]What now?[/i][/color]'

Zino frowned. An elderly woman prodded him with a knobby finger. She smiled. In one hand, she held a cloth. In the other, she balanced a large wooden tray of freshly grilled meat skewers. She chimed something about the festival and wrapped the cloth around the end of a stick, lifting it to Zino. The smell of fire and cooked flesh filled his nostrils, making his stomach turn. He thought about the sound of bubbling fat, about the way skin blistered and melted away, about the distant sound of his own screaming. He snapped back, eyes wide. He slapped the skewer from her hand and shoved her away. The woman fell. 

The thud of it carried, but there was no backlash. Still smiling, the woman stared up at him; making no movement to gather her scattered goods. Zino stood with his hands out, stunned, for a few heartbeats, before he turned and walked away wordlessly, head lowered and steps hurried. He ducked behind the wooden wall of a building. “[color=eee0e5]Shit…[/color]” he breathed. Zino Bertran cover his mouth with his hand. Abjection rumbled in his gut.  He brushed imaginary lint from his shirt and straightened his tie. 

A soft, mischievous giggle broke the silence. Bertran jumped. The agent was now aware of the subtle discomfort of being watched. Eyes bored into the back of his mind. He sighed and glanced in the direction of the markets, staring up at the smoke rising from the grill. Zino looked back down at his hands, his mind racing. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]The other[/i] "mortals…"[/color]’ he thought. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]That must mean they[/i] died [i]as well…[/i][/color]’ He closed his eyes. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]I won’t let my life end in vain… Our lives...[/i][/color]’ Zino’s brow twitched, and he clenched his fists into tight balls. He could feel the weight of the mask in his pocket, as if it were calling out to him. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]I’ll find them here, and we’ll seek out the Magician![/i][/color]’

After regaining his dignity, Zino Bertran stepped out from the shadow of the building in search of the others. Something caught the corner of his eye, floating just out of sight. He chased after it, the flitting of feathers through the air and the grinding of earth beneath his feet. The agent rounded a tree, and it was then he saw them.

“[color=eee0e5]Oh.[/color]” He skidded to a halt. Zino’s eyes flitted from person to person--if you could call them that. He had followed the angel back to the group, and the winged boy now spoke to them--but the agent was too far away to make out the words. Cautiously, he approached them. It was clear that they were different from the sheep of the village. He felt dangerously exposed. His hand found its way into his pocket, fingering the mask nervously. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]It has to be them…[/i][/color]

He raised his hand in greeting, but before he could speak he overheard one of them talk:

“[color=DC143C]Tortured them till they go numb. Let them scream till they can't squeal. Gouge their eyes out, so they can’t see the life they used to love. When the world is full of death, suffer, and pains of many others. Maybe that day will be the day that I seek and love.[/color]”

His face wrinkled in disgust. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]What the hell…?[/i][/color]’ The corner of Zino’s mouth tugged downward, and he chewed on his words, sizing up the rest of them. He regretted walking over here. ‘[color=eee0e5][i]They’re[/i] freaks. [i]What have I gotten myself into? I thought they would be...[/i][/color]’ His head hung in resignation. Despite his efforts to hide his disappointment, it was written clearly across his face. 

“[color=eee0e5]Are you looking for the Magican too?[/color]”