A/N: Another abomination of a story written while drunk. My prompt this time was "Karol becomes the leader of a shady guild," or something like that.

"Brave Vesperia is bigger than you now." Yuri's words kept echoing in Karol's ears as he sat under an awning in Dahngrest, staring at the cobblestones as passersby whispered. If Brave Vesperia was bigger than him, did he really have a reason to hang around them any longer? A failure like him would only drag them down.

"Hey look, it's Karol."

"Probably got thrown out of another guild again, eh?"

"He's a regular guild bicycle, that one."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

The child grit his teeth. He'd grown accustomed to such rumors; after all, the Union, for all its infighting and petty greivances, was a tightly-knit group, accustomed to taking care of its own.

However, even the Union had its limits. Every last guild in the Union—Karol knew, he had checked—had given him a chance, and he'd disappointed every last one. It was a life that was getting tiring; he was old far before his time, and he knew it. Even Raven—old man as he was—had more life in him than Karol. For all Karol's bravado, for all his energy, beneath it all he was a broken little kid, just looking for a place to belong.

And once again, he'd sabotaged his chance to find a place in the world.

"No," he said, jumping to his feet, his oversized bag swinging with his violent movement, nearly upsetting his balance. "Not again. Not now. Y-Yuri's counting on me!" He nodded, desperately trying to reassure himself. It was a delicate dance he'd done many times before—though young, the art of self-delusion had come naturally to him. After all, it couldn't possibly be HIS fault that the organizations that comprised half the world's governance had individually considered and rejected him for his capabilities, could it?

Could it?

He shook off a lingering doubt he'd felt for a moment. He had to move forward—living in the past was never pleasant when the past was nothing more than a serious of failures. For someone like him, it was the only way to live.

He took off down the street, ignoring the cold stares from others as he ran pell-mell towards his destiny. He had to catch up to them, regardless of what Yuri thought of him now. Actions spoke louder than words, or so they said; if this were true, then no words could erase his apathy and lack of action from before, but he had to try. Brave Vesperia was the last guild he had a chance with—after all, being former guild boss had to count for something, right?

"That's right, Yuri," he muttered, ducking under a haggling vender and customer. "Brave Vesperia is bigger than me now. But that doesn't mean..." He trailed off, unable to complete his thought. Emotion ran through his head; it was as though a powerful voice was shouting at him to HURRY UP, as though he needed to catch up to the others before it was too late. Brave Vesperia was going places. This Karol knew. Somehow, some way, he had the feeling that if he didn't go with them, they wouldn't go nearly far enough.

He was understandably confused when destiny intervened with a sharp blow to the back of the head. As his consciousness faded, voices sounded from behind him.

"Aw geez, you hit some kid!"

"Eh, let's just leave him be."

"Wait! If we drag him back to the guild house and claim he's our final member..."

"Then we'd have just enough to actually found the guild! Boss, you're a genius!"

"Of course."

He felt himself behind slung over a shoulder, and the exit to town, so tantalizing, faded as his eyes drooped closed.

"Gah! Repede, what is it?!" he blurted, sitting straight upright in bed. As he looked around, he found himself to be in a very unfamiliar place. Some enterprising individual had erected walls of loosely bound planks in an alley, creating the illusion of rooms. He found himself in a "bed" comprised of a few ratty sheets atop what was an actually very plush mattress. Unforunately, it was small enough that most would have found their legs hanging off the end, but for someone of his size, it was perfect.

"Ah, he's finally awake," someone said. Through a small "door" of sheets, a man of slim build, thinner hair, and surprisingly tacky, garish clothing walked in. Following him was a man with an almost comically large nose who wore a fine tuxedo that tried far too hard to scream "class" and failed.

"Eagle?" Karol murmured, recognizing the Union's official guild inspector. Many a time had the two met—after all, Karol had been in literally every guild, and it had been inevitable for the two to meet eventually. His time in the Dark Wings alone had been enough to guarantee multiple visits to ensure only the thieves' guild knew how to pick a lock, and not anyone else. Honestly, Karol had a hard time understanding why the Guild would sanction a thief guild in the first place; it only made Dahngrest look bad.

"Ah." Eagle sniffled, looking down his glasses at the little man. "I see you're getting your time with Karol out of the way early, then?"

The man in the bright yellow and purple jester's outfit started. "Karol? THE Karol?" He regarded Karol with disappointment. "Aw, damnit. I was so excited to bring in the, er, viewpoint of the next generation on this project."

"Wait, but I didn't—" Karol bit his reply short as his captor shot him a very deliberate look, one Karol understood to mean "I have all your equipment and items, and if you don't play along I'll sell them all off to the equipment shop." It was a look that Karol was none too proud to have seen many different times on many different occasions, many of them following his time with Hop to It, the distillery guild.

"Didn't what?" Eagle gave him a piercing look, trying to discern what coersion was at work. "Is there a problem here?"

The "room"'s silence thickened as Karol sweated, trying to come up with just the right thing to say. "I... didn't, um, realize you'd be stopping by! Well, it sure is great to see the Eye of the Union come way out here!" Karol laughed, a nervous titter fueled by primal fear. He had no idea where he was, he would likely be alone with a strange man soon, and he didn't even have his blastia on him to try and help him fight his way out.

Nan would be very disappointed.

Eagle sniffled again, but said nothing. "Very well, sir. I believe I have everything I need for the Union to make its decision. You'll be informed of the decision in a few days' time. Unless your charter member has any comments for the record...?" He gave Karol, a young lad alone in a strange place, a very direct look.

Karol considered speaking up. After all, Eagle knew him, and despite the Union's growing exasperation with him, they'd still probably help. If all else failed, he could claim he was here on Brave Vesperia business and hope Yuri would bail him out. "No. Nothing." He needed his bag, if nothing else. That thing had some serious sentimental value.

"Very well then. I wish you good luck." Eagle bowed and retreated, no doubt to dust off his suit thoroughly.

The man still in the "room" waited for a few beats, presumably to ensure that the Union official had left. "Goddamn, kid, I wasn't sure if you were gonna go along with this! Never woulda guessed you were Karol."

"Yeah, yeah, I know I've got a reputation." Karol's cheeks colored as he stood, noting his aching head. "So, where am I? And do you mind if I leave already? I'm kinda on a strict timetable here." Even as he spoke the words, he noted with alarm the lack of the nagging "hurry up and link up with the others" voice that had vexed him so earlier.

"Well, I'm afraid you can't leave." The man moved to block the door.

"And why's that?" Karol dropped into a crouch, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there on instinct.

"Well... y'see... we said you were our leader."

"W-what? Your leader? I don't even know who you guys are!"

The man ran a hand through his straight black hair and laughed sheepishly. "Well, you see, that's why it was so perfect, no one in their right minds would want to lead us!"

Karol facepalmed. "Oh great. Who are you guys?"

The thin man puffed up his already distended belly. "We're the proud, magnificent guild 'Tail Money!'"

Karol did a double take. "I... huh?!"

The man leaned in, looming over Karol in a way that made him wonder if he should find an adult. "Let's just say that I'll tell you when you're older."

Karol took a step back, wincing when his back struck a wall. "I... I don't have time for this! I can't lead you guys; I've already got a guild to lead!"

The man scoffed. "You? Even I—who just applied for Union membership—have heard about you. You leading a guild would be like an Imperial noble joining a guild whose only goal was 'uphold justice' or something. No, I know you've got nothing better to do." He leaned in once more, trapping Karol beneath his wiry frame. "Come on... all you have to do is be our 'face.' I just don't want people to know I'm the one actually leading a guild all about whor—"

Karol used the moment to display his mastery over the subtle art of oratory by kicking the man squarely in the balls. The man went down, screaming in pain, as Karol scampered out of the "room". With any luck, his equipment would be nearby, and he could escape this madman's plans.

His fleet feet led him out of the alleyway to find himself sinking into sand. "Sand? Huh?!"

"What's so strange about sand here, kid?" a gruff voice asked.

Karol turned to see an old man staring at him crossways. "Uh..."

"Oh, you're the leader of... that guild, aren't you?"

Karol hung his head. "Everyone already knows?"

The old man ran a hand through his beard. "Well, most everyone does, thanks to those signs everywhere."

Karol looked, and sure enough, on an adobe building that composed half of the alley's wall hung a poster, detailing "his" guild's many services; reading the list made him redden with the promises of lewd women the poster proclaimed. And there in the middle, identified as the "Ringleader of Raunciness," was a poor, out-of-proportion drawing of himself.

"Am I really this ugly?" Karol muttered.

"Anyway, I'll let you get back to... whatever it is a child like YOU does." The old man shook his head sadly. "Gotta pick up the day's food an' all..."

"Wait!" A haunting feeling came over Karol. Being in many guilds, he'd been all around the world, and he didn't recognize this desert village. "How far are we from Dahngrest?"

"Oh, a few weeks or so. Can't hardly come across many ships coming out this way, though."

"A few... a few weeks..." Karol plopped down on the sand, not even caring that he'd barely made it more than a few feet from his "office."

As the old man creaked his way away from the bewildered young man, Karol's "associate" emerged from the alley, clutching himself and wincing occasionally. "You've got one hell of a kick, Karol. So, now that you know the situation, will you help us?"

Something in Karol snapped. He was a long way from home, had a chance to start anew, and didn't have any other options.

After all, he'd needed to move forward anyway rather than remaining in the past. Perhaps this could be his place. His new beginning.

"Yes." Karol grinned. "Fetch me a cane and let's get down to business."