Chapter Text
“Hey, Red!” Buck calls out to the old man by the docks. He's probably far too chipper for 5AM Prometheus standard time.
The sun was rising up, unblocked by any cloud, painting Sobunar's Sea in a mesmerizing orange glow. He thinks the docks look picturesque like this—unburdened by a yet-to-start work day and goings-on here in the Autumn Island.
Red rises up to his full 5’4” height and audibly grunts making him chuckle. “It’s too early for you to be this chipper, Buck,” the old man says as if he read his mind. Well, you can't blame him. He has a good feeling about today.
“Never too early for enthusiasm, Red.”
The Arakki goes back to wrangling his fishing net into his small boat. “What do you want?”
He leans on the boat, partially sitting on it, trying to grab Red’s undivided attention. “You wound me, old man,” he says, jokingly clutching his chest, “do you know anyone who needs an extra set of hands?”
“You live in Arakko now. You best know there’s work for everyone,” Red barks and shoves him off the boat.
“Yeah, but who can give me the kind of work that’s more permanent?”
Red stares at him, “Don’t they tell you where you can find jobs in Immigration?”
He sighs, “Yeah, in Arakko Prime and the Diplomatic Zone. But I came here to get away from the big cities.”
“Try the Morrowlands. I heard a new factory for nonstop yappers just opened up.” Red pushes his boat into the waters and picks up his oar.
“C’mon, Red. I’ll owe you a marker!” he pleads with his best pouting puppy-dog impression even though the Arakki has his back to him.
The old man sighs in defeat, “Go to the Palace–”
“I thought that was off-limits?” he cuts Red off in shock.
“Do you want a job or not?” Red questions with a scowl and he just nods. “Go to the Autumn Palace and tell the Master there—Robert—tell him the Fisher King sent you. Then tell him what you want.”
“Wow! Fisher King… Mighty title, Red. What haven’t you been telling me?” he jests.
“Just go before I hit you with my oar!” Red says, bemused. The old Arakki paddles his boat to deeper waters as Buck watches. There’s a story there but he knows Red won’t just open up to a random Earth man he’s only known for a week.
Buck doesn’t go to the Palace right away. He knows where it’s at—he’s seen it when he first arrived and the locals told him never to approach the ominous place.
The Autumn Island is as big as Los Angeles but isn’t as industrially developed. He’s heard in immigration that the place resisted the urbanization attempts proposed by those from Port Prometheus. And from his talks with Red, the only real industry centers are the canning districts in the East coast and the touring camps in the North. The West coast where he's currently at, is a protected zone for some reason—he’s never really got a straight answer from Red or the locals. And the South is the only legal entry point for first time immigrants and tourists which needless to say is filled with small tourist trap-y pretend villages.
He decides it’s better to look around first, go to the places he hasn’t seen in the few days he’s been here.
He used some of his savings to buy a secondhand carriage when he got to the island. It isn’t an actual carriage. It’s actually a car developed by Arakkii that vaguely looks like a jeep. It was pretty pricey but he thinks it was worth it since he couldn’t bring his actual jeep to the red planet.
There are few highways in the Autumn Island. Most of them connect the South port to the East districts. The one he’s in now, goes straight to the canyon up North. Just a few miles in, he sees nothing but farmland that goes on as far as his powers reach. An endless stretch of ancient crops reintroduced to the now because of Arakko’s return. It’s barely past morning but everything is awash in warm orange-y hues, far-different from the cool greens of Earth. He just takes it all in.
Crossing the border to the North, he passes by the massive signboard pointing to the Northern canyon. For some inexplicable reason, from the moment he woke up today he was drawn to it. So, to it he goes.
Once there, he doesn’t bother joining any of the tour groups. If he's going to live in Arakko, he’s going to live like an Arakki.
He leaves his carriage at the tourist center and the Arakki canyon rangers brief him about prohibited zones and accident prone areas. In the past decade or so, the Arakkii were no longer averse to the concept of help. And because of that, they give him a radio he can use if he gets stuck in a situation beyond his capabilities. They normally don’t allow Earthlings without a tour group but since he’s a registered mutant, they allow it.
The young man by the desk kept reiterating that he should always ask for help to the point it annoyed him. But he didn’t let it show. The kid was just doing his job and since the kid was obviously Arakki—it might’ve taken a great deal for him to learn and say that help is a good thing.
It's midday when Buck decides to stop and rest. There’s a small river at the bottom of the canyon and some trees that can provide enough shade from the high sun. He uses the equipment given to him by the rangers to filter out the river water—and boy, does the water taste good. He compares what he knows of the mineral water he normally buys back on Earth to the natural one he just filtered. The unique composition gives it a distinct taste that borders on metallic but a bit tangy. He likes it.
He hears rustling and some stunted footsteps coming from his right. A young boy, who looks far too human and holding on crutches, wearing red-rimmed glasses, smiles up at him. His first thought is why was there a kid here? Could he have been separated from one of the tourist groups earlier? But he saw all of them and he never forgets people and the boy definitely wasn’t there.
“Hi!” the kid says, approaching closer. He doesn’t miss the way the kid stares at the bottle of filtered water in his hand.
“Uh, hello…?”
The kid couldn’t have been any older than eight. He looks around to look for any other adults that the kid could’ve been with. The Arakkii might be an abrasive and combative group of peoples but because of their history, they were fiercely protective of their young. It’s either this kid isn’t Arakki or he got lost.
“Can I have a drink?”
He hesitates a bit, unsure what the proper protocol was, but the chapped lips of the boy compels him to hand over the bottle. “Uh, sure!”
“Thank you,” the boy says shyly. He was surprised when the kid’s crutches float in the air when the boy reaches for the bottle. Definitely not human.
“That was refru-refreshing!” the boy exclaims after drinking everything. “My name’s Christopher. What’s yours?”
Christopher was definitely an Earth name. Maybe the boy’s from Earth like him. “Buck. My name’s Buck,” he answers, smiling. There’s something endearing about this kid’s boldness that the oddness of the situation is lost on him.
“That’s a funny name.”
“Well, I’m a funny guy.”
The kid—Christopher laughs and it’s the best sound he’s heard since he moved here.
“Christopher!” calls out a gruff voice.
They both turn to the direction of the voice. He sees a man, only slightly shorter than him, running down the slope by the canyon wall. When he gets closer, Buck sees that the man’s skin and flesh are translucent, letting his maroon bones peek through. Pitch black circles, the same color as his gorgeous hair, frame his stunning hazel eyes. The man reminds him of the Santa Muerte depictions back on Earth.
When the man reaches them, he stands behind Christopher, placing protective hands on the boy’s shoulders. “What did I tell you about running off like that?” the man tells Christopher.
“I was thirsty, dad!”
Christopher’s dad looks at him with furrowed brows, “And what did I tell you about taking things from strangers?”
Christopher tsks, “Dad, it’s okay. I looked through Buck’s head and he isn’t a bad guy!”
Both he and the other man are alarmed by what Chris said. If Christopher wasn’t a literal child, he might be fuming with anger right now. Buck can do something similar and he’s spent his whole life trying to avoid prying into people’s thoughts. Chris might still be learning—both how to control his powers and honor people’s boundaries.
“I am so sorry,” the dad apologizes, clearly unsure of what to do.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he placates the guy with a smile. “Kids, right?”
That earns him a breathy laugh from the man and he thinks that’s the second best thing he’s heard since he got here. “I still apologize. Christopher’s still learning.”
The man extends his hand, “I’m Edmundo by the way.”
He shakes the offered hand, “Nice to meet you, Edmundo. I’m Buck!” The name sounds vaguely Earth-like to him but it was also from an old language that he’s unsure of. For all he knows, it could be a same sounds, different meaning situation. That happens a lot in different languages. Pretty funny how often it happ—
“No, my dad’s from Arakko, alright!” Christopher interrupts his personal musings by apparently reading his thoughts and answering out loud.
Edmundo catches on and apologizes again. He can’t say he’s surprised though, if the past three minutes were anything to go by.
“Like, I said. It’s okay. I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t thinking it, I probably would’ve said it. And that would’ve been even more embarrassing,” he says with a wink to Christopher. The kids giggles and it seems to calm his dad’s nerves a bit.
“Why are you here though? We passed by some tour groups awhile ago—are you lost?” Edmundo asks.
He should answer honestly. “Uhm, well, I just moved to the island from Earth. I figured if I were to live in Arakko, I should live like an Arakki. Independent and strong. So, no, not lost.”
Edmundo purses his lips and simply nods, “Well, you’d make an Arakki yet, Buck.”
“I think he’ll be a great Arakki!” Christopher shouts, earning laughs from both of the men.
“Kindness is a form of strength, Earthman,” Edmundo starts with a smile, carrying Christopher. “Keep it up and you’ll have a place in the Broken Lands.” The father and son start floating up and Christopher shouts one last goodbye at him. He waves farewell animatedly much to the kid’s amusement.
The whole encounter leaves him feeling elated and happy. He hopes to meet the beaming boy and his gorgeous father again in the future and hear their beautiful laughter. Right now, he needs to find his own way back to the tourist center.
He has to set aside his trip to the Autumn Palace for tomorrow. Red will definitely hit him with his oar if he finds out he skipped on a potential job application over trekking. But hey, meeting Christopher and Edmundo might make getting hit worth it.
Scratch that. It’s definitely worth it.