"What did you say your name was?" asked Marin.
"Juno," he replied.
"Hmm... nice name, nice name. 'Juno' has a ring to it," Marin mumbled, deep in thought as he rubbed his chin.
Juno looked at the pitiful, mumbling old man. He raised a hand to cover his mouth from Marin's view, then turned to Asher.
"How long has he been like this?" he whispered.
"Hmm, let me think..." Asher glanced at Marin. "It started long before we met. But lately? His condition's been deteriorating much faster."
To him, it was normal. People got curious about Marin's hairline all the time.
Juno frowned, sympathy washing over him. They shared a similar predicament. Their brains had failed them—just in different ways.
Asher caught the look on Juno's face. He knew it well.
The look of someone who saw their own future reflected in Marin's bald patch.
"Can anything be done for him?" Juno asked gently.
"We've tried," Asher replied. "No results."
"Aight, I've decided," Marin said, breaking out of his thoughtful trance.
"Asher, from now on, call me Marino."
His mouth made an exaggerated "o" shape at the end, proud of the sound.
'Poor guy doesn't even know you can't just change a name,' Juno thought, glancing at Asher—who didn't even acknowledge Marino.
"Sure," Asher said flatly.
"Marino," Marin repeated, testing the pleasantness of it in his ears.
Meanwhile, Juno asked the more pressing question. "So… where are we?"
Asher had been anticipating that.
Summoning was heretical—use of Huna beyond Maya. If caught, burning alive would be the least of their worries.
He needed to test something before deciding what to do next.
"Well, I'll tell you. But first—I'm Asher. This here is Mari—Marino," he said, gesturing to Marin, who was still savoring his new name like candy in his mouth.
"I'll be honest. We're runaways. I left my clan voluntarily.
He got kicked out of his.
We just do odd jobs around town to survive and lay low."
Asher emphasized their condition, hoping the man would understand. After all who knew persecution better than his people. He wouldn't stir up trouble for them without reason.
Juno's face softened with pity, and Asher knew then—he'd struck the right chord.
'This is so sad,' Juno thought.
'Who the hell leaves two mentally handicapped people to fend for themselves?
They've even made up stories—"clans" and whatnot.'
"So, to answer your first question—we're in the outbacks of Goldburn," said Asher.
'They're even making up imaginary places now.'
"Where are you from?" Asher asked Juno.
"Uh… dibbletown." Juno gave a made up name too, they made up names for a reason maybe the names of places had elements that could trigger them.
Jinx dug his claws into Asher's pants and began climbing like a slow, sharp vine.
'Dibbletown?' Asher had never heard of it. A tiny settlement, maybe.
He didn't ask more.
'You didn't need to tell him all that,' came a voice in Asher's head.
He still wasn't used to this feeling—a foreign thought sliding into his mind.
'And do what instead—kill him?' Asher replied silently in his head.
'He's here because of you. He's probably more afraid of the Republic than you. He doesn't seem like the type to tattle.'
'Still, you didn't need to tell him where we live, did you?'
'We need to establish trust.'
'Which could've been done without giving away our location! What if he decides on a whim to talk? the council men will be knocking at our door in no time, 'Tower of flesh!' Exclaimed Marin in Asher's Head
'What if the inquisition gets intrested?'
Marin's inner voice was full of panic and complaint.
'Then how about you handle this from now on?' Asher snapped.
'What were you doing—rebranding yourself mid-crisis? And don't just throw your thoughts at me. I didn't give you my name for this.'
'Whoa, alright there, no need to be all dick about it.
Marino sounded pretty cool, you know.'
This entire argument lasted two, maybe three seconds.
It was weird—hearing someone's thoughts directly. But weirder still was the feeling that came with them.
Its like you thought of it but you know you didnt it was very unnerving.
Seeing Asher fall quiet, Juno exhaled. He needed to find his phone to know where they were or call for help which he now remembered he had droped somewhere in the van. But now he felt… responsible.He was taking care of disadvantaged people.
So he made the best decision he could think of.
"Hey guys," he said, voice slow and sweet, "wanna come with me? I've got sweet treats in the van."
'Why's he talking like that?' Marin and Asher both thought at once as Juno beckoned them forward like a hunter setting trap.
'I don't think we should follow him,' Marin said telepathically despite Asher's complaints.
Asher nodded in agreement.
Jinx, sitting at the edge of the trail, tilted his head—then darted toward Juno with feline curiosity.
And like a kite on a string, Asher followed.
'That cat is gonna get us killed someday,' Marin muttered. He knew there was no convincing Asher to not follow.
'It's alright. Jinx has a keen sense of danger,' said Asher.
'Oh yeah? And how do you know that?'
'Gut feeling.'
'You're willing to die over what might just be gas from overeating?' Marin scoffed, but followed anyway.
'That cat shoves its own face in its balls. That thing has no sense let alone anything resembling danger sense.'
Asher didn't reply.
Standing near the thing—the van—Marin felt small.
Juno, the man with the nice-sounding name, placed a hand on it and tore its maw open with a loud creak.
Marin's breath quickened. It was hot today, but the sweat clinging to him was unnatural. A musty smell wafted out as the door opened.
Juno stepped inside and stood at the top of the steps.
"Come in."
To Marin, Juno seemed like a creature that whispered sweet words and had always been part of his fear. Not directly—no—but in stories, in dreams. Its Voice like nectar that spoke words so inviting one might end up giving it his Name.
A Sharenka.
Jinx leapt in first. Asher followed without hesitation.
Inside, the structure was unlike anything they'd ever seen—impeccable woodwork, two beds on opposite ends at the back, a cabinet with a sealed door.
What was this thing?
Asher had never heard of anything of it—not even on the pages of 'Mayan Pilgrims'.