Jon and Thalia’s shared moment of awe went away when he snapped back to the reality of the situation. Combatants had been scattered all across the street, and people had backed away to allow for the mess to spread.

Jon gulped. He was never prepared to deal with regular people in the context of a fight. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything or not.

It had been a long time since Jon had felt sheepish holding the gun in his hand. He wished it could disappear for just a moment, or at least become invisible.

“Thalia!” An unfamiliar voice turned Jon’s head around.

The first thing he noticed was a large purple hat whose shape resembled one of the straw hats from the farm by having a wide circular brim and a simple round crown. Except this hat seemed to be made out of a felt-style fabric and had a large feather pointing out from the center.

The hat sat on an angle on the women’s head, propped up by large bouncy red hair that draped down her back. She wore purple makeup on her eyelids, and her eyelashes seemed to be extended.

Jon looked lower to see that she was wearing a thin robe with just a bra-like top underneath. It was here when Jon picked his gaze back up just to look at her face.

“You did this?” she asked.

Thalia looked stumped for an answer.

“Kinda,” she began.

The large man from the office suddenly tumbled out of the alley. He scanned the area.

“Why did everyone-” he lost his breath. “Thalia!”

He then noticed the woman with the purple hat. “Boss!" He threw his hand over his forehead in a salute.

The woman sighed. “I left you in charge to stop things like this from happening.”

She turned to the crowd. “I’m sorry. One of the fights must have spilled out into the streets. You can go on about your business. It’s been cleared up.”

The majority of the crowd seemed to accept this explanation and move on. Jon was mildly impressed. He was never good with people, let alone crowds. He preferred knowing everyone he was standing in the room with.

Jon didn’t even know that it was something he preferred.

Both the large man and the woman with the purple hat approached the jacket who had began the assault on Jon. He was recovering on the ground and sitting up when they came.

“Explain yourself!” The large man said. “Did he steal something?”

“No!” the jacket replied. “He, he forced us out of our home! He caused this!”

The large man and the woman looked back at Jon. Jon waved meekly. Thalia ran in front of him.

“He started it!” she said, pointing back at them.

“Did he attack you first?” the large man asked.

“No, but-”

“Then of course you got kicked out of your old home,” the woman told him. “You nearly blew up half the street trying to attack him. That’s not even your job.”

The figure in the headwrap calmly walked up to the scene. Jon had forgotten she was even there.

“Marsha, tell, me,” the purple hat woman asked, “is Thalia telling the truth?”

“Yes, lady Joanna.” The turban woman nodded. “The gunman-”

“Farmer!” Thalia yelled out. It was Jon’s first time hearing Thalia yell. It was uncanny.

“The farmer… he was trying to run away. He didn’t draw until he was… targeted. Anything before that, I had not seen. But I suspect he was trying to defend himself-”

“Before Thalia came and blew everything up?” the purple hat woman finished.

“Before Thalia… yes.” The turban woman nodded as earnestly as she could.

The purple hat woman sighed. “Alright.”

Her tone suddenly turned sharp as she looked back towards the jacket on the ground.

“You better beg for mercy, you punk,” she said. There was so much venom in her voice, that Jon shivered in his shoes.

The jacket turned over onto his knees and bowed in front of her. “Yes, lady Joanna, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

“Do what?” she asked.

The man clearly had trouble trying to answer,

“Trying to claim vengeance for a former home for which you have no ties and taking it out on a man who was just minding his own business?” the bald man clarified.

“Yes… that!” The jacket bowed his head again.

Joanna looked up at the other scattered jackets.

“That goes for all of you!” she cried. “Unless you wanna you wanna see the back end of my boot before you have to look for another home!”

The other jackets went behind the other one and bowed as well.

Jon thought she had really nice boots. They were dark and purple and looked shiny.

“Alright, stop being dramatic and make sure nobody got hurt.” Joanna waved them away.

The jackets stood up and scattered among the streets. Marsha, the turbaned-haired woman who Jon worked hard to learn the name of, followed closely behind Joanna as they both walked towards Jon and Thalia.

“Shouldn’t you be more harsh?” Marsha asked.

“You kidding?” Joanna asked. “Now they owe me. They’ll work twice as hard just to please their savior.”

Jon was so tensed, that he had trouble putting his gun back on his back. Maybe it was because the other leaders of the jackets hadn’t been very kind to Jon and his friends. Maybe it was because the woman had such a commanding presence without such clear authority. Maybe it was just because he didn’t want to leave Thalia to fight another battle for him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Joanna shook her head when she got near. “You always bring trouble with you.”

“I do not,” Thalia responded her voice back to its lower decibels.

Joanna looked back at Jon, giving him goosebumps.

“It was really worth it? All for this guy?” Joanna cocked her head.

“His name’s Jon,” Thalia answered, “and yes. He’s my friend.”

Friend. The word scratched at the back of Jon’s skull. He supposed he and Thalia were friends. He had helped save her and her family from the mercenaries from the small town between Resden and Volta. However, she also had been a large part of the a rescue, so Jon preferred then to be called her hero.

“Okay. Hi, Jon.” Joanna shrugged. “Sorry for the hard welcome, but you seemed to have handled yourself here.”

Jon stayed tight-lipped. He still wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Thalia tugged at Jon’s arm, and so he let go of his gun and held it up to her.

She walked up and grabbed his hand. Upon closer examination. Jon got the feeling that she was several years older than him. Maybe even older than Charlotte, like one of his teachers from the farm. Jon didn’t realize how close in age he might have been to several of them.

“You know that he’s a little old to be your boyfriend,” Joanna said, staring Jon hard in the eyes.

Jon hadn’t considered she might have been assessing his age too.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Thalia pulled Joanna’s hand away. “He’s just visiting.”

“Visiting what?” Joanna asked.

“Library,” Jon answered. It was a struggle to even get that word out.

“Great! Well, if you’re ever around you should-”

“Bye!” Thalia took Jon’s arm and pulled him away. Jon, never one to put up much of a fight with his friends, let himself get pulled away.

He looked back and saw Joanna and Marsha watched him walk away.

Jon somewhat didn’t like just up and leaving the conversation like that, but he was also glad that he was able to get out of it and into at least a familiar situation.

He was still going over all of it in his head when they stopped moving and he felt a hard force aghast his chest.

Thalia had given him another hug.

“Hi,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Hi,” Jon responded. He patted her awkwardly again. He had so many questions, but he didn't know where to start.

She pulled away.

“Are you staying at the Library?” she asked.

Jon nodded. He assumed it was the same library.

“Me too!” she grabbed his wrist. “We’ll be there at the same time!”

Yeah. Jon hadn’t expected this. He hadn't expected any of it. Here she was, swinging around a dagger and staying at the Library. He felt self-conscious.

He wanted to ask where her parents were, but it felt a little conscientious for Jon. Thalia seemed like she knew what she was doing more than he did.

“Do you know the way back?” she asked.

Jon shook his head.

“Follow me!” she said, walking off.

Jon did so gladly.

The library hadn’t been too far from where they were before. Jon was already able to make out the entrance of the plaza from not too far away. Being able to spot it from further away meant that Jon could probably make it back on his own next time.

The sun was setting by the time they reached the entrance. On top of one of the walls sat Milo, who glared at them from above.

Jon didn't know anyone would be waiting for them.

“There you are,” Milo said. “I should have known you and that accursed woman were the cause of that mess earlier.”

Milo pushed himself off the wall. Jon expected Milo to make a hard thud on the ground, but instead, he floated slowly until he was right in front of them.

Oh yeah, he can fly.

“And aren’t you the stable boy from earlier?” Milo asked. “Are you even in the King’s Guard? Or are you just a groupie-”

There was the sound of a blunt hit as Thalia kicked Milo hard in the shin. Milo lowered down and bounced on his leg, holding on to the other one. For some reason, this gave Jon the idea that they might have been around the same age.

“Owuh!” Milo cried.

Jon grimaced. That really did look like it hurt.

“His name is Jon,” Thalia spat, the second time she had stuck up for Jon that day. “He saved me and my family. Respect him.”

“There’s nothing wrong… with being a stable boy…” Milo eeked.

Jon agreed with the sentiment. He couldn't help but feel like he was mediating the conversation without actually saying anything.

Thalia was already walking away when Milo started floating after her, still rubbing his shin.

Jon walked after them.