They introduced her as Sister. She was tall, and as soon as she entered the room the air immediately turned stern. Not mean. Just. . . stern. The green robed teen, Rina, entered the room soon after Sister. She had been there earlier that morning, seeing to it that his readings were in order and that he was feeling okay. She contained the same aura of grimness she had that morning, only lessened.

She fumbled around for a moment before she dumped a mass of clothing into his arms. "Alright." She said with a tired sigh, "You can go now sister. He should be good to walk." Sister nodded, stood- when had she sat?- and stretched. A lion's yawn escaped her mouth and she glanced at him before walking out the door. After a moment of hesitation he stood and followed. Sister took him through brightly colored yellow halls decorated with multicolored hands. He stared at them as they passed, wondering where they were to have something so childish on the walls. The halls emptied out into a large lobby, painted different colors with different scenes. He opened his mouth to ask what they were but Sister moved briskly, marching out the door and roughly shoving open two glass doors. Triton hurried to catch up.

The first thing Triton noticed when they stepped out of the clinic was the sun. The sky was gigantic, and right in the middle of it was the sun, who shined directly above them. It was so much more beautiful, he realized, then the books depicted. The second thing he noticed were the children. They rushed past him and Sister, laughing loudly and with joy. Their wings were spread wide and stretched behind them, catching the sun rays on brown, white, and black feathers. A teen with a yellow patch on their shirt yelled after them tiredly, giving chase.

The third thing he noticed was that there were no adults. No towering figures of authority that scowled and sneered at children. No people with wings that stretch so wide they could block out the sun. He voiced his questions about this and Sister told him to shush, that all would be answered soon. He shut his mouth and adjusted his hold on the bundle of cloth he held in his arms. They continued to walk, Triton following Sister like a duckling as she led him through winding streets and alleyways lined with what he recognized as Houses from the old ages. They were incredibly different from the towering chrome spires that he was used to. Where the Spires had been tall and cylinder shaped, the houses were Short and square. He stopped to stare at one, but Sister tugged him along, grabbing him by his upper arm and harshly dragged him through the alleyways and streets.

They walked for a long time, until they reached a dead end street lined with red houses. Sister walked up to one while simultaneously fishing out a silver key attached to a string from her front. She jogged up its stairs taking two at a time, and pulled open the door revealing another door. Triton watched amazed as she opened the door with the silver key easily, and went inside. He stood outside for a moment before he warily walked up the steps to the house and cautiously stepped over the threshold.

Inside, Sister sat on an old, rundown couch with her head lolled back and her eyes closed. She had her bare feet lackadaisically propped up on an old wooden short table. The table was covered in scratches, and one of its legs was shorter than the other. A hardback book was shoved underneath it to prop it up. The book looked familiar, with a blue/green cover and acid green writing. He couldn't quite place his finger on where he'd seen it though. He made a mental note to look into it later.

A few feet in front of the short table was a large rectangular device with a black screen, which-he realized with a start- was a t.v. It was on another short table, a bigger one, which was also covered in scratches. The more he looked around, the more he realized that the whole place was much like short tables; rundown, covered in chipped paint, and practically made of scratches. It was far different from Father's accommodation. "Are you just going to stand there?" A voice said from beside him monotone and uncaring. He started, having forgotten she'd been there. Sister stared at him from where she was on the couch with a half lidded glare. She had removed her feet from the short table, and sat on the couch fully sitting up. "I-" Triton began before shutting his mouth. She sighed, stood, and slowly made her way over to where he stood.

He trembled as she approached, flinching slightly when she raised her hand. But she only closed the door behind him, which Triton now remembered, had been open this entire time. The cloths were taken from his arms and deposited onto the couch. She stood there for a moment, arms crossed, silently staring at him. After a while she yawned again, stretched her arms, and told the air, "I'm going to go take a nap." She turned around and made to leave the room through a dark hallway, which he presumed led to her quarters. She paused, though, right before she left. "Maybe you should too. " She said and then exited. After She had disappeared from sight, he moved. His bare feet sunk immediately into the plush floor, and he started at the immediate change between concrete and the softness that was the floor.

This was. . . carpet, he remembered, staring down at it. Mother had told him about it. A type of flooring used for comfort before Artiwood was invented. It felt strange. Soft, but not as soft as Artiwood. He decided he liked it. It was far better than the linoleum floors that had been in that weird hospital after all. Those had been cold. Very much so. The books hadn't told him that they were cold.

Mother would have found it interesting. She would have said "'hm, very curious.'" like she did every time he told her something new. Then they would spend hours and hours in his study room, researching it and coming up with theories until father came home and she quietly went to his side to talk about grownup things, in a grownup way. But before bed, before he went to sleep, she would come back to him and they would whisper in the quiet of his room, about new things, and new theories. They would talk about it until his eyelids became heavy, and mother's words made less and less sense.

And when he woke up, mother wouldn't be there. But it would be okay, because she would always be nearby, and ready to greet him with a smile. Until, that is, the day that she wasn't.

He suddenly felt very, very tired. He sat down on the couch, the relief on his tired feet instantaneous as he sunk into it. His feet had never been this sore in his life, he realized. They're going to fall off, he thought tiredly, as gravity pulled his head downwards. They're going to fall off and I won't be able to walk anymore. He fell asleep upon impact, a soft smile and whispered words that sent him into dreamland.