Miss Synt ushered me out of the building, into a field full of hay bales and flowers. A few girls were sitting on the bales, weaving something together using dried grass. It was an image that could be taken out of a travelling artist's portfolio. One that I soon would be joining.

“Sit there.”

She pointed at an empty hay bale. The other girls glanced up from their crafts. Some almost jumped back after spotting me. I shrugged off their stares and sat down. Normally, I would complain about my clothes getting dirty, but they were beyond saving at this point. My white undershirt had been dyed brown and my waistcoat was so scratched and tattered that it looked like a badly maintained family heirloom.

“Have you ever woven a basket before?”

“Hah? As if I, the son of the Great Golden family, would ever partake in such peasant activities.”

I don’t believe I’ve ever even touched a basket before.

“So a Golden can’t do something so simple?”

“No. It’s just beyond us. I’m sure I will be able to do it straight away!”

Beliting the Golden family? You would be executed for making such bold statements in the city. Besides, I’ve been able to learn everything on my first try since I was a baby. My particle awareness is much higher than the average person’s.

“Fine. Here are the materials you need to start with.”

She set a box full of dried grass by my feet and handed me a needle stuck into a cotton ball.

“Wrap it like this.”

She took an unfinished basket from one of the girls and gave me a small demonstration. Her movements were swift and decisive in a way that wasted no movements.

“Did you get all of that? If not, ask the other girls. Girls, Mr Golden here has decided to work with us until further notice. Help him out if you can. If he acts up, call Zeke.”

With that, Miss Synt strolled off. She didn’t need to add that last part. It’s not like I can do anything the way I am now. Besides, I already said I would do it. There's no reason to go back on my own word. I glanced at the grass in the basket and grabbed a handful. She did it like this, right?..

“Um, you have to wrap it before you twist it.”

A girl with an oversized bow that rested neatly on her short, brown hair leaned over me. Huh? When did she get there? I’m usually able to sense people a good distance away from me. This is the second time someone has been able to catch me off guard. I wonder if my senses have weakened?

I suppressed my urge to jump at her voice and did as she instructed.

“Like this?”

“...No, not really.”

The girl ended up hovering over me the entire time. At points I would loop it wrong or forget to pass the needle through. The hardest part was the shaping of the actual basket. For some reason, when I added more grass, it became lopsided. When I finally managed to finish the basket, we both cheered. That was, until I realised what I was doing.

I dismissed my previous actions with a cough and turned to face the girl properly.

“You aided me greatly in completing this task. For that you have my thanks.”

She stared at me for a second before nodding.

“Yeah! It looks enough like a basket!”

Enough? I glanced at my creation. It had a hole at the top like a basket usually does. The bottom had a hole too but that wasn’t important. The sides also had a lot of holes…

“Practice makes perfect! You should show a lot of improvement after your tenth one!”

T-ten? I have to make ten of these? I set the ‘basket’ down behind me so I wouldn’t have to look at it anymore.

“...I’m Trist by the way.”

I didn’t feel like getting up to do a proper greeting so I held out my hand.

“Nice to meetcha! I’m Beau.”

She shook my hand so hard she almost tugged it off. Her clothes were far dirtier than the other girls who were sitting around us. I wonder if she normally does more labour intensive jobs. If that’s the case, doesn't that mean that I'm being taught by an ameteur?

“Say mister-”

There’s more? I suppressed a groan.

“Weren't you the guy who terrorised Laylay?”

I froze. She didn't let go of my hand.

“Haha… yeah…”

I looked away. Damnit. The scene that started all of thist, my weakest moment, flashed through my mind.

“Laylay’s been telling me about it! The thing is…”

In the corner of my eye she was staring holes through me with an unbreaking grin. So she knew who I was? Why was she so nice to me then? Everyone else around us had paused their tasks to watch our discussion. Do they all know? Is that why it was so quiet? If that’s the case, what are they going to do now?

“She said that you were ugly! I don’t really see it.”

She tilted her head to the side.

“...Ugly?”

Some of the girls flinched at my response. I won't pretend that I have the complexion of a god or anything close, but the Golden family pride ourselves on our flawless, shiny, skin and hair. At the very least my appearance should be appealing!

“Yep! She said you looked like a shiny ghoul!”

A few girls couldn’t suppress their gasps.

“Or a fire-fish that’s been left in the sun. Like a once precious neglected piece of cutlery!”

For some reason that last comment hurt more than the rest. I let go of her hand but she grabbed it again with both hands this time.

“But to me you look like a ligoah with overly washed hair.”

A ligoah? The hole-dwelling ball of fur? I cannot tell if that's supposed to be a compliment. She finally let go and gave me a thumbs up.

“Mr Trist Sir, you're alright!”

“Thank you?”

Following that exchange, everyone seemed to relax and went back to weaving their baskets. Some even began talking amongst themselves. Beau shoved some more grass into my hand and forced me to suffer through another basket whilst hovering a bit too close above me.

It was painful but time passed by quickly. I got better with each basket and Beau never lost energy. At one point I was overcome with a wave of nostalgia. Huh? Nostalgia? Why would I feel nostalgic for making baskets? Is it because I’m being taught? I was a child prodigy… I remember my tutors would throw away their papers when they found out that they couldn't teach me anything new.

Well… I don't hate it. So, I'll allow it. Just this once. I let out a short sigh as I finished another basket and frowned at my fingers. Beau chuckled and I glanced at her.

“Is there any problem?”

“What’re you sad about?”

“The grass is scratching my hands. They may get rougher.”

“Is that it?”

She laughed even harder.

“You’re working on a farm, Risty, your hands are gonna get rough!”

Did she just call me Risty? Is that meant to be a nickname? I shook my head. I don’t like it. Not one bit.

***

This is awful. Awfully big. Down the edge of the cliff, holes that varied in size peppered the side and stretched out further than I could see.

“And this is all their nest?”

Precisely.

“So what should I do now?”

Are you up for an adventure?

I raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

You might not believe me but… Byg nests don’t usually look like this.

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

Not that part. You might have to investigate a bit closer before I can reach a proper conclusion.

“How close?”

…The centre of the nest.

Oh…

I peered over the edge a second time. A few bygs were moving in and out of the several holes. They scaled the mud walls with ease and made new holes where they saw fit. Every so often, they would bare their metal fangs for seemingly no reason. Actually, why do they have teeth?

“Do Bygs always have fangs?”

Do you think I checked?

I guess it would be hard for a piece of metal to know if bigger worms had teeth. Though he did call himself the lord of cursed objects so maybe he was once human or something close.

“Which hole do I jump in?”

The choice is yours.

I sighed, then raised my shovel. If they ended up chasing me into a dead end, I could always dig my way out. Well, that would be my only option. I could only hope that I don't end up stumbling across some eggs or something. As for which hole to enter first. If I needed to find the centre then my best bet would be entering the hole closest to the middle.

With that, I did a small hop to wake up my joints, then ran down the wall, dodging and jumping over holes as I went. When I arrived at the centre area, I stuck the shovel into the wall and used the momentum to fling myself into a hole.

Hopefully, that was fast enough that they didn't notice. My hopes were squashed by a hissing noise that was following after me. These guys are too dedicated. Maybe I should ask them for tips.

Hey! Master! Eyes ahead! There's a fork in the tunnel!

I don't know why, but the first image that came into my mind was the fork used for eating. It must be the trauma from Penny’s etiquette lessons. Days upon days of learning the different names of cutlery, just because she caught me eating fish with my bare hands. If my body shuddered at the thought, I couldn't tell; The terrain that I was sliding down was too bumpy.

After shaking off the image of forks, I slammed my legs together and braced for impact. As my feet collided with the dirt, I bent my knees as if I was landing from a high place to minimise the impact. I lay there for a second, letting the shock from the sudden stop wash over me.

Master, from what I have observed of you, you are a human with very little reactions. However, how can it be that your face remains unchanged with the strength of that impact?

I stared at the dirt above.

“I don’t usually let things get to me.”

I peered down the two holes in front of me. They looked identical. I couldn't think for a second longer as the hissing noises had grown louder.

“Including those.”

I pushed myself through the right hole and tried to build speed again. Unfortunately, the hole ended a few steps down. I shoved the piece of metal into my mouth and slashed at the dirt above. The ceiling gave way and I shimmied through the hole. This one went far deeper in but all good things come to an end.

Once again, I plunged the shovel into the ceiling but this time, another hole wasn't found. I tore at the soil on my left, then on my right. At this point I was burying myself alive. I tilted my head back and could see the bygs writhing towards me despite the darkness of the tunnel. Have I always been able to see in the dark?

I shook my head. There's no time for such thoughts. I used the shovel to flip my body over then brought it against the ground with all the strength I could muster. The floor collapsed like it was made of sand. I went down with it.

This time, the hole was steep. So I sped up without having to do much. Since I was a good distance away from the bygs, I tried to turn back onto my back. Before I could do anything, warning bells went off inside my mind. Instead of turning over, I used the shovel to slow down.

What are you doing? The bygs will catch you!

I ignored Mister M’s pleas, even as the bygs got closer. I kicked obout in order to sense what was behind me. This caused me to slow down even more. At this point, the bygs were an arm's reach away. I couldn’t afford to slow down any further. Still…

When I couldn’t feel the dirt of the tunnel at my feet anymore, I thrust my legs down. If I had been going any faster I would have shot into the air. There was nothing below me so I slammed the shovel into the side of the wall and hung on tight. The bygs shot out and fell into the unknown. I waited for a second, then sighed. We had reached the end of the hole.

“That was close.”

Close? We’re stuck!