Who else could it be other than Eridel’s avatar? As mentioned before, his QOB was too high for a majority of lifeforms to withstand so it resulted in their brains removing him from their memory entirely. An automatic self-protection that most people had.

But what was Eridel doing here, walking the streets of the Elven Kingdom’s capital city? What was he plotting this time?

…

(Elven boy POV)

Gasalam sat behind his stall, watching the crowds of Elves and Fae as they went about their business. Some would veer off to different shops or stalls as something caught their attention, but nobody paid any attention to him, and on the rare occasions that they did, they would only give a forced smile or a short glance filled with poorly hidden worry.

It was worse when they walked by his stall, saw the food he was selling, got interested, only to pale in fright when they realised just who was selling. They’d then give sloppy hello’s, trying to be nice according to the Faerie code that had never been dropped, and then scurry off without a backward glance as if they were running from something contagious.

‘Idiots.’ He said inwardly, tuning out the ‘H-how are you doing, Gasalam? You surprised me’ from some random black haired Fae lady who had actually yelped out loud when she saw him. Now, more people were looking at him, showing their faces twisted with judgement and he hated it.

Okay, maybe not all of them were showing such faces, but he knew that even if they were hiding it they were still the same. They were all just wimps who were scared of what happened to him but still wanted to pretend like they liked him.

‘Losers. Scaredy cats. Fakers. All of them.’ He thought. Still though, hypocritical as it might be, he let out words that were contrary to his feelings.

“It’s okay, lady.” With a forced smile of his own. “Would you like to buy some bread? It was made with a special technique that makes it taste really nice, you should try some.”

“Ah” the lady let out a small sound and her smile twitched.

‘Hehe, got ya.’ He inwardly snickered. Moments like this were the highlights of his days. The Elves and especially the Fae always seemed to be in some kind of competition to prove who could be the kindest, most elegant, exemplar citizen of the Faerie code. So whenever he got the chance to actually talk to them it was rare for them to deny his requests to buy. After all, what was more noble than helping a struggling orphan boy by buying his sales and giving him money?

He took advantage of this whenever he could, and he had to admit that it was one of the reasons that these people were so quick to say goodbye after saying hello whenever they were ‘unfortunate’ enough to make eye contact with him, but it was worth it.

At one point, he had been shameless enough to ask for free money, thinking that these ‘noble hearted’ pricks wouldn’t find too much of a problem, but they would always give the same response, saying that it was bad to be lazy and that if they were to actually give him money, they would be feeding his laziness.

Tch. He rued the day that he decided to set up this dumb stall. If he were jobless, how could they deny his requests for money? ‘This is why 11 year olds are dumb.’ He thought. Now he was stuck in a perpetual cycle of making food every day, hoping that people would buy, only to end up disappointed more often than not.

On top of that, even in the rare situations like this, they would buy but they wouldn’t actually eat or drink anything that he sold. He still remembered the first time he actually caught someone throwing the bread that he spent effort to bake, into the trash.

He remembered the face of horror and guilt on the man as he turned and saw him looking, he remembered the flash of fury that he felt as he rushed forward to attack, and he remembered the helplessness that he felt as the man easily grabbed his wrists and tried to calm him down.

But he didn’t care. 12 year olds are so wimpy. That’s why he cried that day when he got home. He was a teenager now and didn’t care about what those losers did with his food or drinks. Throw it in the bin or eat it, he would never care. Not one bit. He got money and that's all that mattered.

As expected, the Fae lady decided to buy, choosing 2 pieces of bread AND a drink, which he secretly cheered for. He didn’t mind the careless manner in which she picked them, nope. He was earning money and that’s alllll that mattered.

“Thank you, nice lady.” He said with a better smile.

It was always best to say please and thank you. Be kind to others and others will be kind to you. That was one of the aspects of the Faerie code. It was true enough, he had learned. At least, his business went smoother when he was smiling like a nice boy rather than giving glares like he used to.

Time passed with nothing more happening and it was quite boring but he didn’t mind, he was used to it. There were even days where he didn’t get a single interaction, talk less of an actual sale. 2 pieces of bread and a drink in 1 sale at that. This was a good day!

He smiled as he thought about that.

“You should smile like that more often if you want a normal life back, boy. It’s a good look.” A deep voice spoke. The accent sounded like nothing he had ever heard before and for a moment he was stunned. In fact, merely calling it deep seemed to be a gross understatement. What was that word that those fancy pansies like to use, sonoras? Sonorous? Whatever. This man’s voice was that.

He looked up and… immediately developed a headache.

“Wha-” He couldn’t finish the word before his vision faded and he passed out, but before he did, he caught the sight of 2 golden eyes.