Jonatan was no stranger to alley hopping, darting from one dark corner to another among the bustling early morning crowds while keeping far out of the sight of the guards. If he recalled correctly, the last time he had to run from guards was maybe six months ago when he was charged with the defacement of a famous statue of some general or another with a faded flag that just ‘happened’ to obtain a small poem about the detail in the statue’s pristine behind.

He may have suggested to do it to some drunken gnomes and laughed hysterically when he saw them carving it, but he was 99% sure that he was innocent.

He and Jasper scooted past a closed storefront, the voices of the owners growing fainter as the streets grew quieter and quieter as the guards helped the more elderly residents keep steady. Jasper was breathing more calmly, but his face was still slightly pale. Whatever memories being pushed through a crowd under threat of death had drawn up, they must’ve been scarring to the hardest of men.

Jonatan snuck a concerned glance at him, offering a supportive hand. Jasper shook his head.

“I’m fine. I’ve avoided crowds for a while, I just wasn’t prepared.” His expression remained guarded, but his knuckles were white on the hilt of his blade, shuddering slightly. Jonatan raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. He didn’t want to start a fight when as far as he knew, Jasper was the only person in the town that didn’t want him captured or dead.

“I wasn’t prepared for my first mug of Scarlet Ox, and I couldn’t remember the next week after that.” Jonatan nodded in understanding.

“I…what does that have to do with anything?” Jasper’s steely gaze broke, replaced with pure confusion.

“But that was a while ago, I only lose about a day to it now.”

“What are you talking about?” Jasper blinked, his logical mind failing him.

“That being said, I still don’t know why I woke up beside a family of sheep. Was distressing for days.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Jasper furrowed his brow, one hand rubbing his temple.

“Yeah. Look.” Jonatan pointed at Jasper’s hand. The half elf looked at his hand, confusion rising again, slowly morphing into surprise.

“Not shaking.” Jasper whispered.

“You’re not alone.” Jonatan lightly punched Jasper’s shoulder. “Besides, you look better when you’re mad at me.”

Jasper opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Jonatan had seen his fair share of people crying, sad drunks were a common thing after all. He didn’t know how to help, but if he could calm someone down, make them feel a bit better with a little tale of his own misfortunes, it would be the right thing to do.

Jonatan sat down, breaking the seal on the bottle of whiskey he ‘bought’, pouring himself a capful to take the edge off the waning adrenaline. It wasn’t exactly good quality, but he could always spice it up a bit later.

“Might as well chat for a while. Not much else to do.” Jonatan offered the bottle to Jasper, who’s expression changed yet again to alarm.

“No, we have to move before the guards find us!” Jasper hissed in a quiet yell.

“The way these town hall meetings work is that everyone moves into the square and hears the announcement, guards and patrols included. If we wait till the bell sounds, the town will be practically deserted, meaning less people to spot us sneaking out.” Jonatan took a deep breath. Thinking wasn’t his forte, but he knew the routine of this town like the back of his hand, and it wouldn’t change no matter which magically inclined lizard tried to say so.

One of the reasons they had the same mayor for nearly three decades is the ingrained stubbornness of the people, and how they’d rather start a war than let someone else try to change something that worked well enough. Jonatan didn’t always agree, but he still had a hard time admitting that most of the time, he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.

“So what’s your story then, Jas?” Jonatan put the bottle away, picking up a loose pebble and fiddling with it. “You said you were away when all this hell broke loose.”

Jasper’s shoulders sand, and his legs followed as he slithered to the ground, as if he let out a breath he had been holding for years.

“Blades sends members to foreign Gladiator rings to strengthen relations. I was the chaperone for the apprentices who wanted to watch for study. There were twenty-four of us that went on the first day. When the bounty posters went up two days later, seven of us got out the city, three escaped the hunters, and one survived the months that followed.” Jasper closed his eyes, glumness radiating off him.

“Sorry.” Jonatan couldn’t say anything to that. He flicked the peddle further into the alley, bouncing it off a wall. “You seen anyone else that survived?”

“A few. Deserters mostly but there were a few who were travelling when it happened, now hiding out. I know for a fact that Whispers still has active members, but I haven’t had the time to figure out how to contact them anywhere. I had a group of Clerics days behind me, but I shook them off in the forest west of here.”

“The only town that’s safe to travel to on foot is the one through the forest though.” Jonatan leaned on his knees, scratching the stubble on his chin.

“It’s the one I just came from, yes. It’s the only place we can feasibly go to rest up, but I don’t know where to go from there.” Jasper admitted. “I suppose the wizard from the other night has already sent word to her order, so there will be more coming for us in the next few days.”

“Doesn’t mean they can find us in the forest.” Jonatan suggested, massaging the aches from his last brawl with Sylvia. “The place may have a few thieves and angry animals, but it’s a damn sight better than staying here.”

“We have to go that direction either way. Avoiding the reinforcements isn’t so much a problem as escaping the area. Their presence will raise security, and there’s only so far we can go without needing to stop for supplies. Unless you’re hiding years of frontier survival training in your head.”

“I’m not even sure I’ve got regular survival down pat yet.” Jonatan shrugged.

“Then we’re going to have to improvise.”

“Now if you wanted that I could’ve just tipped a cow and played along to its—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” Jasper rolled his eye.

Jonatan would’ve given his own bite back, but was distracted by a deep echo in the air. One that was incredibly familiar to him, but had a depth of darkness into it now. The town bell rang out, queuing the start of the announcement that would condemn them both.

“Time to go then.” Jonatan hoisted himself up, offering a hand to Jasper. He took it with a nod, his usual hard gaze returned with no more hints of hesitation.

“Lead the way then.” Jasper nodded, colour returning to his face.

Jonatan glanced into the now deserted street, then ran towards the outskirts of the town. He knew every step, every loose brick, all the fun hiding spots from his childhood, his chest squeezed when he left them behind the first time two years ago, but now the weight on his chest was heavier than before. Heavier than he had ever felt before.

Past the bakery, now sadly empty with no scent of fresh bread wafting out. Past the old fish market that shut down years ago when the river was diverted to the other side of the forest. Under the oak tree that was apparently planted by the first mayor, its bark was brittle and grey, but it was grand and beautiful after all these years.

The surroundings grew sparser with each step, old benches long since replaced elsewhere, houses in dire need of new occupants, and grassy patches growing through the stones. Since the last war ended when Jonatan was 4, towns always seemed to have sections that were abandoned like this, visible scars left from the hell that still haunted living memory.

The pair came up to a once tall building, the bricks streaked with black char, and an old fence built around it to remind people not to try and go in in case of broken glass. It may have been old, but the fence was still standing tall at just short of eight feet tall of hard wood planks topped with worn out spines.

“I can show you—” Jonatan began, turning to look at Jasper, who was already mid run up. He grabbed the planks with an iron grip, vaulting himself upwards and gracefully landing on the overgrown weeds with a near silent step. “Or just do that.”

“Move, I’ll make you an entrance.” Jasper drew his blades, holding them deftly over his shoulders.

Jonatan did move, but instead of moving away, he reached down to one of the planks, tugged it, and it popped loose, letting him squeeze himself through with a held breath. After replacing the plank, he did a mock bow at Jasper, who simply closed his eyes, and put his swords away with a sigh.

He and Charis used to play here all the time before and after it burned down. There was always an air of mischief in hanging around an abandoned building after being repeatedly told not to do so by people who absolutely knew what they were talking about. He never could get it past his mother though. She had spent enough time around that place to recognise its rubble anywhere, especially when she created some of it by accident.

Jasper scanned the ruined building, and the high stone wall that was beside it.

“Why does somewhere so out of the way have such strong walls anyway?” He pondered, absently fiddling with his buckle.

“Something about a raving band of marauders near the founding of the village. I don’t know, I failed history.” Jonatan ran his hand over the eroded stones he once used to craft adventure after adventure with.

“Not everyone can excel at every subject in school I suppose.”

“I didn’t really go to school now that I think about it.”

“Then what did you do with your time when you were younger?” Jasper’s face seemed to be getting more comfortable with the constant confusion of Jonatan.

“Nothing productive but everything fun.” Jonatan nodded in fond memories.

“Mostly embarrassing stuff too.” A voice called out from around the corner of the burnt building.

Jasper’s swords were out in a split second, pointing towards the voice. Jonatan nearly tripped over himself but came back up with a large rock in his hands. When the figure that was hiding emerged though, the rock tumbled to the ground in Jonatan’s surprise.

“What are you doing here, Charis?!” It was Jonatan’s turn to be speechless in surprise.

Jasper didn’t break his gaze even for a second, bracing himself and ready to pounce on the Changeling at the slightest movement.

“Much as I hate working, your mother told me to come here. That, and I wanted to make sure you were ok. The rumours are already a wildfire.” Charis threw their hands up in relaxed surrender, making their lack of weapons obvious for Jasper. “Some people have even said you’ve turned into a bear.”

“That actually sounds pretty cool.” Jonatan nodded in approval. Then the depth of her comment sank in. “Wait, you’ve talked to mum? Is she ok? Dad too?”

“Aye, the man’s being held in her office, gives Sylvia and the Mayor an excuse to keep them somewhere they can see them, but they’re not hurt. As for Captain…well I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this angry before.” Charis leaned on the towering wall. “She almost tore Sylvia in half when she heard she hurt you.”

“She’s not on good terms with the Wizard?” Jasper slowly lowered his blades, but didn’t sheath them.

“Not anymore. Hell, half the town was lukewarm towards her at best and the other half had a betting poll on her bedroom.” Charis twirled a coin between their fingers, their eyes more subdued than usual.

“That’s some good news then.” Jasper breathed a small sigh of relief. “Come on, we need to get going before the announcement finishes.” He walked round the ruined building, keeping an eye on Charis as he did so, before disappearing round the corner.

“Your new friend is pretty cute you know?” Charis raised their eyebrows teasingly.

“Don’t have to tell me that.” Jonatan rolled his eyes in return, walking up and patting Charis on the shoulder. “He’s good, I’ll have to work to keep up.”

“Imagine that. Jon working for the first time in his life. I’m pretty sure the sky is meant to rend when that happens.” Charis mused, sauntering up behind him, playfully punching his shoulder.

“Speak for yourself. The only reason you’re here is cause you’re afraid of my mother.”

Charis didn’t immediately bite back with a retort, which was unusual. In fact, her entire demeanour was different than usual, less playful and mischievous. Jonatan must have let his concern show, as Charis lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

“Stop it. I can take care of myself here. It’s you I’m worried about. The things that Sylvia said about you…” Their voice trailed off.

“She say something like I was a stain to be purged off the world and the sky would rain flowers if I died?”

“Something like that yeah.”

“Shame she doesn’t have hay fever, then that might be fun.”

“She’s allergic to salmon, might be able to do something with that.”

“When I get back I’ll be sure to smack her with a few of them.”

They shared a chuckle together as they rounded the corner. Jasper came into view, leaning against the side of the building, a hand over his nose.

“That thing is a disease-ridden death-trap.” Jasper gagged from the smell of the drainage pipe that was located several dozen feet along the wall, the grass around it withering and dead.

“Oh wow, what happened to it in two years?” Jonatan caught a whiff of it, and he could feel his nose screaming in complaint.

“Apparently a traveller used it to dump his mouldy merchandise and the majority of it was fruit and cheese. The stuff that grew and died after that can’t be considered anything but a curse.” Charis took several steps back.

“Is there any other ways out?” Jasper’s voice was muffled through his hand.

“Not if you don’t want to get turned into a kebab by several dozen spears.” Charis shrugged.

“It’s kinda sad how that’s not a cut and dry choice.” Jonatan scratched the back of his neck.

“Speaking of dry.” Charis hopped through a long-broken window, their boots crunching on the glass and rubble inside. Shortly after, a sizable backpack tumbled out, wrapped in plain, hastily cut oilcloth. Charis came out again, wiping dust from their hands. “Couldn’t grab much, but this will keep you going for a while.”

Jonatan picked up the package, it was heavier than he expected, and a bit bulkier too. He could feel the crinkling of wrapped dried rations inside, as well as the softness of clothes next to them.

“You’ll come out the other side with smell enough to knock out a whale, so I packed some soap and water if you want to scrub off on the other side.” Charis chuckled to themselves, avoiding eye contact with Jonatan.

“Charis.” Jonatan placed a hand on their shoulder. “Come on. Tell me.”

Charis put their hand on Jonatan’s chest, gently punching his arm.

“Don’t you dare get yourself killed, Jon. No matter what they say about you, keep yourself alive, you hear.” Charis started tearing up slightly.

Jonatan pulled Charis into a hug, wrapping his arms around them as they buried their face in his shoulder.

“If I die, how can you expect me to come back and tell you all the stories of people I’ve talked to and slept with that are better company than you.” Jonatan grinned a bit, his eyes burning slightly.

A small chuckle escaped Charis’ mouth.

“Oh now you’ve gotta come back so I can smack you for that one.” They smiled, wiping a tear off their cheek. “Go kick their asses.”

“Whoever gets into the fewest fights buys the next round?”

“You know I never bet alcohol with you since you maxed out your tab!”

“Are you two done yet? I would like to get this over with please!” Jasper complained, as he wrapped his shirt around his face, revealing a set of lithe but very defined abs beneath, in the same pale gold colour of his face, without the lines of tiredness under his eyes.

“Oh wow.” Charis whispered, tilting their head.

“No kidding.” Jonatan agreed, joining Charis in admiring his form.

After receiving a scowl from the one-eyed bard, Jonatan and Charis took their eyes off his muscles.

“Good luck then.” Charis ruffled Jonatan’s hair, grinning and chuckling. “Might want to hold your breath though.”

“Ha ha.” Jonatan waved to Charis, walking to Jasper with his head held down. “This is going to be hell isn’t it?”

Jasper nodded, his head a coffin of wrapped fabric.

“Damn.” Jonatan stared down into the dark hole, flies buzzing around the entrance, black stagnant water at the bottom full of god knows what. “I’m nowhere near drunk enough for this.”