You see, boy? You should have listened to me, not that chauvinistic worm.

Calling the kettle hypocrite aren't you, pot?

There's a huge difference between using common sense and falling for a pretty face.

Please. Indulge me, oh great white knight.

He should have, firmly but kind, told her to leave. Just because one is chivalrous and kind does not mean they don't know when they are being played. That woman was trouble the moment we met her, and you were stating good points –of which I will not tolerate any more interjections in my piece. Thank you. You were stating some good points, as was I and Merok, but only you were saying to let her stay –mostly because that heroglasia was pervading the house with its wretched scent. How could you not have smelled it, boy?

Oh! Good! A groan. Come on, lad. Breathe. Don't let it w- good. Keep it up- slowly, easily. Don't overdo it. Let your body ease back into self- ignore the chains on your wrists. You can worry about that once you battle the sh- are you listening? Calm... calm... c- gods dammit, you're not going to listen to me even now, are you?

Want me to try?

No. It's because of you we are in this mess... Okay. Your body is settled, Freddy boy. In... and out... In... out... Feel the wind on your face, on your chest. Feel the sun, how it warms your legs, fills you with determination for the new day. Now, slowly, open one eye. Either one... O... oh...

He blinked away the rest of the night's wash, the sun gleaming off nine towering beings, their spears gleaming like fire, dancing before his sight, circling him. He looked up, and found his hands bound to the post's lock, that day's lecher burping and retching behind, leering at us. What right do you have to judge us, drunk?

"Sir Bala," one of the guards uttered, pulling his eyes back to that gleaming wall of armor. "Sir Fred Bala?"

"Y-yeah?" He croaked.

The guard nodded. "We got our man. Unhinge those cuffs from the lock. Make sure they stay tight on him, though."

"W-wait. What? What's going on?"

"You are under arrest for the murder of forty-eight individuals, all located in Coradoona. Its newest ruler has condemned you to death. You are to be marched before the Coradoona commons and strung by the neck until dead. If you survive longer than three minutes, your middle will be cut, your innards spilt and ravaged by latoshi. Do you understand your fate?"

"No!" The guard groaned, preparing to repeat- boy, stop him! "I meant, I didn't do it. I swear."

"Oh?" He reached into his satchel, pulling out a small, brown pouch. "We found this, along with a letter, stating your guilt in the crime of murder most foul. We even have a witness."

He moved to the side, and Chastity approached, sniffling, rubbing her bruised cheek.

"That's him," she whispered, sobbing. "He hit me when I refused to go through with his plan. I just wanted it to make him a cake for our wedding, but he wanted it aught for murder! Called it 'a good start'. I loved you! How could you!"

She slapped him, and ran off, the guards grimacing at him, the one before him punching his gut, throwing him over his shoulder.

"You've got it wrong. SHE's the kill-"

"Silence," the guard said, smacking him. "How dare you blame a woman."

"But she d-"

"What's going on?"

Oh... Dear Lilah, you choose to come back this day? You looked so beautiful in that dress, embellished with long, shimmering ribbons, bounding in the wind. You should have kept your dark hat on, lass, the sun paled by those golden curls, approaching us.

"Mr. Bala? What's happened?"

"Sir Bala here is guilty of forty-eight murders, all within Coradoona."

"Coradoona? But... that's impossible. Mr. Bala never leaves work. His master would have reported him missing."

"'tis true," Withershen said, limping between the guards, coughing. "He was there all day."

"Well, then it should come to light it happened last month. All our leads had gone cold before we were given a package with this pouch and a note."

Withershen hummed, taking the brown pouch, sniffing it, his eyes darkening.

"Florinel Costaq... I take it this was the sample you gave to that woman?"

… Nod your head, son. At least accept this burden... Don't let him know you lied... Dammit. He knows, and now he knows you lied to him. How could you?

"Right. How silly of me," Withershen said, chucking. "I gave it to her. Memory's a bit fuzzy in my old age."

"So this wasn't his at all?"

"No, and, even then, how could. He's been working every single day. He will be a most wonderful healer once I go. In fact, today was his only day off."

"Yes, and we were to go out," Rebek stated, in a bright sundress this morn, her hair wrapped in a towel, lip pursed. "Sorry for eavesdropping. Was wondering if I still had plans or not."

"It looks like you do," the guard grumbled, hauling Fred off his fellow, taking off the irons. "I suppose apologies are in order."

"No," Fred s- what? What are you doing? "I'd rather find the person who did this and see them in jail. I was attacked last night and left as bait. I want justice to be done."

Boy... You're bringing a tear to my eye. How... noble of you.

The guard nodded, saluting. "Then I welcome you as a temporary knight, Sir Bala. Any information we may obtain we shall pass to you, as I hope you do the same."

"Yes... Yes, sir, I mean, and the woman you are looking for was that 'witness'. Her name is Chastity... At least, that's what she told me."

"And where did she attack you last night?"

"I... In my house, sir... In bed."

"And how, pray tell, did she kn-"

"The window is by my bed, sir. She reached in and pricked me with something coated in a powerful poison. I think she meant to kill me outright, but didn't know I built an immunity."

He hummed, and turned around, the rest following suit.

"Very well. We have much to report to Coradoona. We shall be in touch, Sir Bala."

"Thank you."

The marched off, leaving Fred simply saluting... the sun shining right on him, probably glowing with his fortitude. I'm... I'm sorry... Rebek trilled in his ear, tousling her shoulders, chuckling.

"Ooh. Someone is angry! I like it." She said, taking his hand. "Come wait for me in the bistro. Won't take me long to finish my hair, I swear."

"Alright, alright. Easy," he said, chuckling, looking back at Withershen, frowning at him, shaking his head slowly before lumbering away, taking Fred's smile with him. Lilah waved after him, skipping back to her father's carriage, gaudy, tacky signs sprawled on its polished wood, the man, himself, leaning against it, twirling his thick mustache, his eyes hidden under heavy brows. Dark locks framed his face, almost melting into his beard, that wild beast tamed into a majestic mane, flowing down his front, untouched by any shirt, the sun lost to the curs on it, gleaming with set.

The door closed for the bistro, and we were forced to look at that stone instead of that man of stone, sat in the booth near the front, watching her race upstairs, left alone with your thoughts at last. Boy, I don't know what got in you, but I'm so happy you are pursuing justice instead of letting it go. You don't know how many in your shoes would simply be happy to live another day. Instead, you are seizing the moment to do right, like a true hero of legend! By the end of this, we'll make you one. This was your star eraser, your star marker, and your willingness to embrace it so...

Oh. Rebek returned. Her hair bounded over her left shoulder, tickling against his nape time and again as they spent the day together, most of it of her boasting how... manly he had become... Taking my words, no? You don't deserve him, interloper. Lilah... She stood up. She knew... maybe you were onto something, churl. Maybe she really is perfect for him.

But who was I to deny the noble son happiness. How he smiled, how he blushed around Rebek. How their faces warmed the night, sitting on one of the hills outside the city, looking towards the great chasm of Albiode, the moon lost in its darkness. She caressed his hand, his leg, her head on his shoulder, smiling tiredly as he laid his atop. Her hair... loimasses. Such a strong, yet sweet, scent.

"Fred," she uttered.

"Y-yes?"

"I... Nothing."

"You sure?"

"W... No. This was a nice day... Even nicer than the first one. Remember how that ended?"

With disdain, alas. You poor fool. You tripped down this very hill- oh, you cheeky lass! She giggled as the two tumbled down the knoll, holding him tight all the way to the bottom, landing on his top. She shook her head and dug her chin into his chest, staring up at him, the moon reflected in her eyes.

"Fred... Let's do this again. Okay?"

"Of course."

She kissed... She actually kissed him. On the cheek, but the music played in his head all the same, his heart skipping as they stood and returned to town. She kissed him again in front of the bistro, hugging him tight before leaving him to the dark, and he walked to his own pace that night, marching home, humming away.

Uh... Hydel... Buddy... Aren't we forgetting something?

What could we be forgetting? It has been a wondrous day for the boy! I couldn't have been prouder.

Yes, but, you see, there's just one teeny, tiny, minute, crucial detail.

Whatever it is, it can wait. Home is in sight. The boy has earned his rest this night.

But that's kind of the problem.

Didn't I say I didn't want you interrupting?

B-

Silence, cur! This is our, my moment. We have done good. We are seeking j...

Oh.