The Rubbish Realm

Chapter 2

Chapter 2
He was shaken awake. Ugh, my alarm clock hasn’t even gone off yet! Then, suddenly, he realized - he had been shaken awake! He wasn’t alone! He might not starve after all!
“What?” he asked, still somewhat drowsy, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
“What are you? How did you get here? How did you survive the rubble? And why are you wearing such odd clothing? Don’t you know it’s cold out here?” It, whatever it was (he couldn’t see clearly out of his half-awake eyes), bounced up and down energetically.
“What am I? I’m… human.” Clyde was puzzled. He had thought that was pretty obvious. “What are you?”
“I’m an elf. A small elf at that. My name’s Lysander. What’s yours?” Lysander was about the size of a nine-year-old, with the pointy ears one always thinks of when one thinks of elves, incredibly pale skin, and bright green eyes that, though childishly energetic, seemed to look straight into one’s soul.
“I’m Clyde.” He was starting to warm up to this elf, especially since he was his way out of the rubble. He decided to pose what was, to him, the obvious question: “Where am I?”
Lysander looked at him, mouth agape as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but didn’t answer, his piercing eyes boring their way into Clyde’s skull.
“Did you hear me?” Clyde squinted, flummoxed.
Lysander grinned mischievously. “You’re in Perelandrea, the world inside earth. We have magic here, is it true you don’t have magic up on, oh, what was it called, yeah, Earth?” Lysander was grinning wildly, like this was the most fun he had had in a long time.
“Yeah, we just have technology. Are elves… common here in, what was it, Perelandrea, you said?” Clyde looked away subtly, trying to avoid Lysander’s intense gaze.
“Yeah, somewhat.” Lysander nodded thoughtfully before pausing abruptly.
“And?” Clyde prompted.
Lysander snickered before sobering. “But how did you get here? Where did all this rubble come from? And what happened to the sky?”
“”That’s what I was wondering! I just woke up to this, and the rest of the neighborhood seems to all be dead.” Clyde frowned resignedly.
“How… annoying.” For the first time, Lysander seemed to be at a loss for words. “Was your family with you?” He sat down to get a better look deep into Clyde’s eyes, or so it seemed.
“My family was already dead before this happened. Car accident.” Clyde’s already frowning face fell yet further as he sighed. He was reminded of that far too often, ruining all his efforts to forget that terrible day. In fact, come to think of it, he figured, it was probably worse than this one.
“What’s a car?” Lysander probed. He didn’t seem to notice Clyde’s downcast expression, or perhaps he just didn’t care. But Clyde didn’t like to be one that made assumptions, so he didn’t mention it.
“Umm… it’s a… transportation vehicle that can go really fast.” Clyde felt bad for dictionary writers: definitions are nearly impossible.
Lysander nodded thoughtfully, his face brightening as he realized the possibilities with that. “Fun! You use them because you don’t have magic up there, right?”
Nothing quite like children to brighten up your mood, Clyde thought, finally sitting up. “Yeah. Can elves just teleport yourselves around? Is that how you got through the rubble?”
“If only it were that easy! No, we have to walk pretty much everywhere, which is why we wear such high-quality boots.” Lysander lifted his foot in order to show Clyde his nice leather boots.
Clyde hadn’t noticed the boots, so he said as such. “I hadn’t noticed those before; that adds up. But why don’t you use magic?”
Lysander shrugged. “Most of us can’t do much magic at all and even those who can don’t. It’s really tiring and more than a little erratic.”
Clyde sighed - that would have been such an easy way out. It’s hard to hope when even magic isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Lysander just shrugged and sat there, enjoying the awkward silence while Clyde sighed and slumped upon the rocks, grimacing a bit as one bit into his back.
Finally, Lysander put two and two together, though he very well might have had it all together before and just not said anything for the sake of the awkwardness. “So, in other words, you’re stuck here right now? I could help you with that.”
“Yeah, thanks! But… how?” Clyde tried to force some happiness into his tone, but he couldn’t overcome the fact that he wasn’t in the mood for it.
“Here’s an extra pair of boots for you… and here’s the coat. Good thing I packed extras!” Lysander grinned mischievously as he pulled out a pair of boots his size and a coat that looked far too small for Clyde.
“Thanks?” Clyde mentioned as he noticed the far too small garments. How in the world was he going to get them on? Couldn’t Lysander see that they were far too small?
“Try them on!” Lysander bounced up and down energetically while still maintaining a smug grin as if he were hiding something.
Clyde hesitated before trying them on, sure that they’d be far too small, but when he put them on, they fit like they had been made for him.
Lysander noted the surprised look on Clyde’s face and broke out laughing. “It’s magic clothing; it fits everyone who wears it as long as I want it to.”
“Wow.” Clyde’s jaw dropped. “How?”
“Magic. Let’s go!” Lysaner rolled his eyes at Clyde before running through the rubble with a sudden burst of energy, leaving Clyde to run to catch up, laughing.
“Did - you - do - this - yourself?” Clyde managed, gasping for air as he sprinted at top speed through the ruins, the magical boots protecting his feet and keeping him balanced. If not for them he would have tripped quite a few times by then.
Lysander grinned proudly. “Yup! It isn’t very hard, once you get the hang of it.” He didn’t seem tired at all and was still happy even though the rubble still reached to the edge of both of their views.
Clyde found himself wishing he had the hang of it. That would be epic! he thought to himself as the momentum provided by the magical boots let him catch his breath. “How much longer will it be until we’re out of the rubble?” He couldn’t help being worried even with Lysander’s brightening mood, and his face fell into that resigned frown that had been all too familiar recently.
Lysander stopped abruptly, going from a dead sprint straight to standing still in a matter of moments. He reminded Clyde of his often over-caffeinated cousin Blake, who was always full of energy and often perplexed him, as, of all people, would be the person who needed coffee the least. And just thinking about him brought back a flood of nostalgic memories, causing him to stop as well, and he was only barely able to keep from crying. “And how big was the destruction? Was all of Wisconsin taken out?”
Somehow, Clyde had managed to dim even Lysander’s mood with his brooding, causing him to turn completely around and walk up to him before pausing with a puzzled expression. “How big is Wisconsin?”
Clyde facepalmed, realizing he had forgotten that Lysander wasn’t familiar with his world. “It’s…” He really didn’t know how big it was, or how to explain it in terms that Lysander would understand. “a pretty big region.”
“That’s remarkably vague,” Lysander muttered to himself as he fiddled with his fingers, seemingly bored. “I don’t know. It seemed like a pretty big hole in the sky, so it very well could have been a very large region, but I’m not familiar enough with your land to know how big Wisconsin is.” He squinted into the distance straight up while he tried to estimate with his hands energetically. “The destruction is definitely bigger than a city, though. Luckily, we won’t be running the entire distance, as I know where a portal is we could take to get to a region that looks far nicer.” He smiled sadly. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose friends you’ve known for a while, and, judging by your beard, friends you’ve known for longer than I’ve been alive. But, at least, you’re not alone anymore.” Punctuating his response, he hugged Clyde with all the strength of his small frame, which was a surprising amount.
All the events of his roundabout day were, once again, too much for Clyde, and he broke down again, crying into Lysander’s shoulder. He’d only known Lysander for a couple hours, yet he was already his best friend in the whole world. It was rather tragic, if you think about it. It was also really tragic even if you don’t. He was hit with an intense longing to suddenly wake up and realize this had all been a terrible nightmare and he could go about his normal life again. But he knew it hadn’t been, his hunger and pain from the various nicks and bruises throughout his body assuring him of that. He finally composed himself slightly and looked up gloomily just to manage, “Nobody else survived, right?”
Lysander, slightly overwhelmed by this outburst of emotion, but still rather empathetic for his small age, and even more remarkably so due to the fact that he had just met him, mumbled, loud enough for Clyde to hear, “Yes. It’s a miracle even you did.”
“Why? Why me?” All Clyde wanted to do at the moment was jump off of a bridge, but, everything in view having been rubble-ified, there was none to do so with. He couldn’t decide whether that was a relief or just even more depressing.
Lysander looked right into Clyde’s eyes with that piercing gaze of his and stated “I don’t know. Probably neither of us ever will. But things are as they are - sometimes, all you can do is the next right thing, which is never jumping off of a bridge.” He spoke with remarkable wisdom for his young age, leaving Clyde with no options but to wonder how he knew what he had been thinking, collect himself, and continue on their way, Lysander taking a slower pace this time.
Clyde smiled weakly, deeply grateful that Lysander was there and that things weren’t all bad. “How did you find me in all this rubble?”
It seemed as though Lysander was trying to be as confusing as possible when he answered, “Luck,” more than a hint of a grin reappearing.
“Bro.” Clyde couldn’t repress a smile, before coming to a realization. “How did you know I wanted to jump off a bridge?”
Lysander smiled back genuinely. “I found you for the same reason why you survived: you have a luck affinity.”
After all the other confusing things that had happened to him that day, learning that he had an affinity was the least of his worries, but it still piqued his curiosity. “What do you mean I have a luck affinity? I wasn’t very lucky up there!” he said, pointing to the hole in the sky rather disheartenedly. “Also, what is an affinity?”
Lysander had expected this line of questioning. “Here, everybody has an affinity for something, related to some sort of emotion, usually. Unless you’re really unlucky. There’s a few people who don’t have any, but they usually work the hardest to try and make up for it. Most don’t do much at all, for example, most people with an anger affinity are just even-tempered, but some lucky people get more powerful affinities, like natural talent at damaging magic or the ability to inspire anger in others. The better they are, the more uncommon they are. And you can tell which one they have by their eye color.” Being a rather excitable person, he had started to ramble, grinning widely. “I can tell yours is luck because you eye color is yellow, which means that you have a happiness affinity, and it’s bright, which means that it’s powerful, which is lucky in and of itself, and you’ve been getting really really lucky lately, which is why I know you have a luck affinity!”
The difference between the two was astounding: Lysander looked like he was having one of the best days of his life, and Clyde looked like this day was easily his worst of his entire existence. “But yesterday my eyes were dull green!” Clyde’s voice wavered, though he was grateful for the slower pace. “Nobody has yellow eyes on Earth.”
Lysander turned to face Clyde, walking backwards so he could keep going in the direction he had been going in, his magical boots letting him keep his balance. “Maybe they only work in Perelandrea. That would make sense since you don’t have magic on Earth.” He spoke faster and faster as his features brightened more and more. “But yeah, your luck affinity is probably why you survived the fall; it would have kicked in the moment you entered our sky.”
“But why didn’t anybody else have a luck affinity who fell? Why was I the only one?” Clyde refused to give up on being languid, repressing Lysander’s infectious cheerfulness.
“Some probably did, but it was still incredibly lucky that you survived, even with your luck affinity. The spot where you ended up is the only spot I’ve seen so far with enough flat space to keep anybody alive, especially for anybody as tall as you, and you were really lucky that I heard you yelling so I could help you get out.” Lysander was, rightfully, quite proud of himself, at least until he hit a rock that was too high for even his magical boots, and he tripped backwards, falling behind the rock. “Oops.”
Clyde chuckled tiredly. “Are we there yet?” All he wanted to do right then was collapse, his legs threatening to give out on him any minute, even with the boots’ assistance.
There was no response from Lysander, nor did he appear from behind the rock.
“Lysander? Are you okay?” Clyde ran up to the rock and looked behind it worriedly, but Lysander was not there. “Lysander? Lysander?” Clyde was starting to get desperate and started to think he had hallucinated Lysander’s existence at all, or, more likely, that he was actually dead and this was what purgatory felt like. It would explain all the rubble and the hole in the sky, after all even though he wasn’t Catholic.
Suddenly, Lysander reappeared, right where Clyde had been looking. “You called?”
Clyde fainted with shock and exhaustion.
“Well, I didn’t know the portal was right there!” Lysander exclaimed apologetically, shrugged, and then, with remarkable strength for his small size, dragged Clyde into the portal, apologizing each time Clyde’s head hit a stray rock. “Sheesh.”