"Hey, Gil?"

That was the last voice Gilbert expected to hear, and when he turned around, sure enough, it was Francis jogging over to catch him before he left the hideout.

"Well, would you look at you," Gilbert started, confused, "...You know, not dead."

Francis rolled his eyes, "I'm glad you care."

"I do" Gilbert insisted, "I just didn't think you'd be out of bed, or walking…" He shrugged, "Or breathing."

"He got help from the White Healer," Alfred piped up next to him, "Seemed like a cool guy."

"'Guy?'" Gilbert quoted.

"Yeah, y'know, a guy."

Gilbert glanced from Alfred to his twin, Matthew, in confusion, prompting him to explain. Matthew cleared hit throat, "A person, usually male."

"Ah." Gilbert responded in understanding.

"Matthew, what are you doing here?" Francis asked in irritation.

"Francis, I live here." The timid man said, earning a chuckle from Gilbert, despite how kind Matthew was, he could be quite sarcastic sometimes.

"You're distracting Alfred." Francis accused.

"Nah," Alfred answered, "He wasn't. We were just talkin'."

"Alright then, Alfred," Francis said in a testing tone, "Then tell me why Gilbert is here, because whether or not he has authority, he still needs a reason for you to let him in."

"He was lookin' for Antonio."

Finally, Francis turned his attention to Gilbert again, "Why?"

"Because I needed to report to you," Gilbert answered, "But you were probably dead, and even if you weren't he was the one taking care of you, plus he the second in command and was practically running the place and-"

Francis covered his face with his hands, "Gilbert stop." He dropped his hands with a sigh, "I called you here because I need you to run an errand for me."

Alfred gasped excitedly, "Does he get to kill someone? Can I go?"

Francis gaze shifted to the young twin, giving him a strange look, "No…" Francis then shook his head, getting back on track, "We have some new recruits, therefore, we need a few swords. Go to the blacksmith in Redwood and get that for me."

"Redwood?" Gilbert echoed, nervousness showing in his voice.

Francis gave another irritated look, it seems as though that the man's patience was thin today, "Is there a problem?"

Gilbert stumbled on his words before coming up with a reason to go somewhere else, "Well-I-uh, Th-the blacksmith there doesn't really agree with what The Runners do."

Francis dug into his chest pocket and tossed over a bag of coins, "That's what the money is for. Go. And try to be back by tomorrow night."

Gilbert put the coins in his shoulderbag, "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and take Matthew with you," The Frank ordered as he nodded to the young man, "It's not like he's doing anything important."

Gilbert and Matthew gave each other a look of panic, "Well, I'm sure he has something that he could do." Gilbert suggested.

"Oui, and that would be helping you." Francis answered, turning away, "And by the way, Ivan is close, so if you see Toris and Feliks, tell them I said 'hello'." He noted bitterly.

Gilbert and the two twins stood there in silence for a moment before Gilbert let out an angry sigh, "Well, he's in a mood. I think I liked him better when he was quiet." He then walked out the door, heading to the hidden stables in the trees.

Matthew followed close behind him, "I'm sure he's just stressed. Everyone is after the attack."

Gilbert shrugged as he shived a bit at the crisp night air, "Still, he usually isn't that snappy with you and Alfred."

"Well, up until recently, things have been rather easy for him." Matthew started, "I mean, Alvald was such a good king, that we were pretty inactive."

Gilbert tracked through the trees until he got to the stables. Standing outside was his horse that was already hitched to a cart. He didn't bother unhitching it when he arrived, knowing that he wasn't going to stay long. He sighed as he tossed his shoulderbag into the cart and began to climb into the seat, "You know, people call him the best leader in The Runners' history, but what has he done?" He asked, shooting Matthew a look, "Now, his mother was great, she took down a tyrant, but the Alvald took control, Francis came into power soon after, and we've been pretty dormant."

"I don't think it's just him, Gil." Matthew said, stepping onto the cart and sitting down next to him, "We have a whole new generation of members here. Think about it, Francis' mother, Gallia, died when he was…"

"Fifteen." Gilbert offered, taking the reins and heading to the nearest traveled path, "Barely old enough to take leadership."

Matthew nodded, "Right. Then Alicia, Gallia's and Francis' first second in command fell ill and died as well, Athena, Aklia, and Haldor are all history too…" He shrugged, "We've had to start over, and without conflict, we can't learn."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "'Without conflict we can't learn.'" He echoed, glancing at the young man, "Is that the kind of crap the teach you where you come from?"

A small expression of hurt crossed Matthew's face, "Yes. What do they teach you here?"

"Well, I don't know about here, but back in the Germanic countries, they teach you that you learn through training."

"And why do you train?"

Gilbert went over a few bumps before turning to a well traveled road, "So I know how to fight."

Matthew gave a smug smile, "Why would you learn how to fight? So you can win in a conflict? If there were no conflicts, Gil, then you wouldn't have to train."

Gilbert glanced at him a few times, unsure of how to respond until he decided to shove him playfully, "I hate you."

"No you don't." Matthew said confidently, "I know you love me."

Gilbert was silent. Rarely did they say things like that, and that was beyond Gilbert's understanding. With all the inactivity of The Runners, there was time to get attached to others like that but, as Gilbert had learned recently, things happen, and you could be safe one day, but in hot water the next. That and Francis had basically adopted the two twins as his younger brothers a long time ago, and he could be quite protective of them. As sweet as his friend could be, Gilbert had seen his brutal side, and would hate to be on it. Then again, as much as a romantic as the man was at heart, maybe this was the real reason he set Matthew with him… Gilbert hated mixed messages.

"The blacksmith isn't going to listen to us, you know that, right?" Gilbert said, changing the subject.

"Don't worry, I love you too." Matthew sighed, "And no, I think the money will persuade him."

"He's Germanic."

"So?"

Gilbert paused as he glanced at him, "You have know idea how stubborn they can be."

Matthew chuckled, "I know you, don't I? No one is as stubborn as you."

Gilbert was silent for a long time, "Then you don't know my father."

Most of the previous day went exactly like the moment when Arthur rode off on his horse and left Alexander with Matthias. The traveler's personality was irritating to say the least. Sure, Alexander was a prince, and wasn't used to people talking to him as if he wasn't such, but were all normal people this disrespectful to each other? Always taunting, interrupting, and insulting? There was no way he was going to make it through the couple months he was supposed to stay.

Matthias personally enjoyed it, Aleksander could tell from that stupid, taunting smile of his, and the gleam of amusement in his eyes. This, above all things, was what frustrated Alexander the most: The traveler had no shame, didn't care what people thought of him, didn't care that he didn't care, and if someone tried to make him feel bad, he would just laugh, and disrespect you again.

But, like a hyperactive child, Matthias eventually settled camp and went to sleep, leaving Aleksander to lay in his bed (if he could even call it that), stare at the stars, and toss and turn as he desperately tried to get comfortable on the hard ground. Luckily, due to the exhaustion from the long, stressful day, it didn't take too long for him to drift into a doze, but he doubted he was ever able to visit deep sleep.

Not like Matthias was helping at the moment.

"Hey, Lukas! Rise and shine!"

Aleksander then felt something hit his shoulder, and when he turned his head, he came face-to-face with Matthias' dirt covered boots. He closed his eyes again with a sigh, silently wishing that he could just go home and leave Matthias to anger someone else.

"Lukas, look at you. Pretending that I don't exist! You're so silly!"

Aleksander looked up to send a glare at the traveler, but just as Aleksander expected, Matthias only smiled wider. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty!" He exclaimed.

Aleksander wanted to snap at him, but a prince was never rude. He sighed, "Good morning, Matthias."

Matthias' smile turned taunting as he crouched down to his level, "Let me hear that again, a little less bitter this time."

Hit him, A small voice said in his head, but Aleksander kept a hold of his restraint, and said nothing.

Matthias patted his shoulder, "Don't worry, we can work on that later." He said before walking back to the center of their camp.

Aleksander couldn't hold back his tongue anymore, the traveler was just too irritating. He sat up, continuing his glare, "Maybe we can work on your attitude, too."

Matthias began to stir something in a pot above the fire, "Or," He started, looking back at him, "We can work on your sense of humor."

Aleksander rolled his eyes and changed the subject, "How long have you been working on that?"

"Your sense of humor? About a day."

Aleksander pinched at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on, "No-I… I meant what's in the pot."

"You see, Lukas, that's what we have to work on." The traveler began, leaving the pot and going through one of his bags, "What I just said was supposed to make you laugh. Of course I knew what you meant, I'm not an idiot." He pulled out two bowls as he continued, pausing what he was doing to look at him as he did so, "Since you weren't specific when you asked me-"

"If you have to explain the joke, then it's not funny." Aleksander interrupted him.

Matthias' smile fell into a thin line, "It's chicken chowder. I've been working on it for a while now."

Aleksander shrugged, "I didn't notice."

Matthias' grinned again as he made his way back to the fire, "Of course you didn't, you were sleeping like a baby." He paused as he filled both the bowls with the chowder, finally coming back to him and handing one over, "Or, actually you weren't sleeping like a baby, of you were, you'd be screaming and crying and shitting yourself every few hours or so. So, thanks for sleeping quietly."

"You're welcome?" Aleksander said, his statement sounding like a question. Shaking his thoughts out of his head, he took the bowl, "Thanks for cooking."

Matthias waved dismissively as he sat down next to him and began eating. "So, uh, what's the plan for today?" Aleksander asked, taking a bite of the chowder and making a sound of approval.

Matthias swallowed and cleared his throat, "Well, we have to sell your clothes and get ones more fitting for a traveler. So, after this, you can change into some of mine."

Aleksander narrowed his eyebrows, "I can't just wear you clothes."

"Better than stripping at the vender." Matthias countered, "Besides, you won't be in them for very long. If we get moving soon, we'll be in Redwood before you know it."

And, so, he ate and changed into Matthias' clothes after going into the trees so he could. The apparel that the traveler gave him were loose and baggy, to the point that he had to hold his trousers up so they wouldn't fall down. After changing, Aleksander walked out of the trees, "How's this?"

Matthias stopped packing up camp to look over, and laughed. So hard that Aleksader could feel his cheeks burning, "This isn't funny!" He snapped.

Matthias' laughter winded down, "Yes it is, and it will be until I loan you a belt." He then went to a different bag, pulled out a belt, and tossed it at him, still giggling, "There you go."

Aleksander caught the belt and made his way back to the trees to fix his trousers. After he was as comfortable as he could be in the other man's clothing, he helped pack up the rest of the camp and they headed to Redwood.

Matthias was right, the ride wasn't very long, and for a while, Aleksander knew they were close because they would come across someone else heading in the opposite direction. Matthias greeted the few that they crossed. Some responded back, but most ignored him. Something told Aleksander that he should say 'hello' too, but somehow, he didn't feel like it was his place.

Redwood was overwhelming to say the least. The environment was loud, distracting, and unorganized, but Matthias lead them on their horses unfazed, whistling the whole way. They eventually came to an inn, bought themselves a room for later, and a place for their horses in the stalls. It went well until Aleksander realized that they would be sharing said room. With one bed. However, when he brought this up, Matthias just said: "Of course, I'm not made of money."

And now Matthias was rambling idly about what it would be like if he was made of money. He wouldn't have to go to an inn to sleep, he would have a house in every village in the country, complete with stalls and one horse for each, or actually two horses, because he's made of money and why not? And blah, blah blah, blah blah… Aleksander got distracted by everything that they walked by, so it's not like Matthias' words held his attention anyway.

"Hey, Lukas, are you listening?"

Aleksander looked to the traveler, "Uhh…"

"GET BACK HERE!"

Aleksander turned to see a man holding a chicken in each arm while chasing a third one. He could only wonder how the man got into that predicament, or why he was carrying three chickens, or how the other chicken got away… Where they even his chickens?

"Lukas," Aleksander felt Matthias grab his chin and turn his head back over, "Focus. Selling your clothes isn't the only thing on my 'to-do' list. I need to find a blacksmith too."

"Why?"

Both Aleksander and Matthias looked over to a man standing not too far away, "None of your business, creep!" Matthias snapped, "Back off!" After the man shrugged and walked away, he looked back to Aleksander, acting as if nothing had happened, "I need to buy some leather. One of my bags needs a patch-up."

"My stomach hurts." Aleksander said in honesty, still staring at the person who interrupted their conversation. Was he- Yes, he was throwing up in a bush.

"Hey, the poor man's drunk, give him a break." Before Aleksander could bring up the fact that it was currently eight-thirty in the morning, Matthias continued, "So, sell your clothes, then get some leather. Got it?"

Forcing himself to get back on the topic, Aleksander asked, "How do we sell my clothes?"

Matthias shrugged, "There should be a vendor around here somewhere. I'm not that familiar with Redwood, so I'll have to wander around to find it. Which is okay, I don't mind doing that, my whole life consists of wandering. Now, what about your hair clip?"

Aleksander narrowed his eyebrows, "What about it?"

"It's pretty expensive," The traveler explained, "You should probably sell it."

"It stays." He insisted.

Matthias stared it him for a while, as if he were waiting for Aleksander to continue, but finally, he rolled his eyes, "Alright, whatever, you don't have to get all serious on me. Let's go."

Matthias began to lead him through the streets. As they got deeper to the center of the village, however, it got more and more crowded. People were walking by him way too close for comfort, some others were ringing bells, and others were shouting about what they were selling and their prices. Taking in his surroundings and keeping up with Matthias was more of a difficult task that what he originally thought.

Then, out of nowhere, a kid ran straight into him, the boy's head shoving just under his sternum. All the air in Aleksanders lungs left him all at once, leaving him bent over, coughing. The kid mumbled an apology, but ran off before Aleksander could even respond. After catching his breath, he straightened himself only to find that he had lost Matthias.

Aleksander looked around desperately, even getting up on his toes for extra height, and as his luck would have it, the traveler was nowhere in sight.

Well, this was just great.

Don't panic, He told himself when his chest felt empty. He took a deep breath and looked around, trying to find something to inspire him about what to do. Eventually, he decided to just keep walking. After all, he and Matthias were heading in this direction, perhaps he would run into him.

While keeping an eye out for Matthias, Aleksander realized that the streets were less hectic than before. Sure, it was loud, and there were a lot of people, but everyone was talking, smiling, and seemed to be in a good mood. It was strange, to say the least, to see so much expression on people's faces. Because, where he grew up, in the land of plagiarism and criticism, politics was a poker game. The only expressions you held were confidence after you say something, or remorse after a tragedy. That's it.

Perhaps he shouldn't be regretting being out here with real people, where everyone isn't so apt to lie and cheat you like they will in the political world. Maybe he should be grateful for being able to temporarily live a simpler life than that.

That's when he saw a crazy man running for his life, slip on horse shit, and land face first in a horse trough. The regret was back, and Aleksander had to admit, he kind of missed it.

Aleksander sighed and looked away, hoping to forget what had just happened. In a strange turn of events, he was lucky enough to see a building right next to him that had a sign with a hammer on it. It read Blacksmith. He headed straight for it, already feeling thankful again. But, unfortunately, he walked in while an argument was going on.

The man behind the desk -the owner most likely- Seemed to walk away from where he was standing to converse with someone else, a weird looking man with grey hair and red eyes. There was another, taller, young man with him, but unlike his friend, he was not albino. The owner held a furious expression as he looked down and began organizing something on his desk, trying to give off the feeling that he was done with whatever the two young men were there for.

The albino, however, wouldn't have that. He rounded the desk, trying to make eye contact again, a pleading look taking his features, "But, Vater, you have to-"

The owner interrupted him, "I don't have to do anything for you!" He snapped, stopping what he was doing to glare at him, "You know I don't believe in what you do."

"Two swords." The Albino begged, "Just two swords, and I'll get out of your long hair."

"I'm not just going to throw you two swords, just so you leave!" The owner exclaimed, "I am not wasting my work on you, let alone your mission."

Albino's expression changed to a heartbroken, almost unbelieving stare, "Vater, I-"

"Get out!" The owner growled.

"I'm your son!"

The owner slammed his fist on the table, making everything on it jump, "I only have one son, and he's at the palace in the capital protecting royalty!"

There was a long pause before the Albino shook his head with a scoff, "Come on, Matt." He mumbled, storming out, and slamming the door.

The young man, Matt, looked from the owner, to Aleksander, his eyes widening slightly. After a few awkward moments of Matt staring at him, he looked back at the owner with a respectful nod, "Have a nice day." He practically squeaked before hurrying after his friend out the door.

The owner looked at the desk for a long moment before lifting his head, "I'm sorry about all that." He said calmly, "What can I do for you?"

"It's fine." Aleksander said quickly, "I'm just waiting for someone."

The owner rolled his eyes, "Well, go stand around outside. If you're not here for business, then I don't want you here."

"Well, um…" Aleksander started, his voice trailing off as he tried to find words to explain, "My friend needs something from you, but I lost him in the crowd, so I'm meeting him here."

The owner bent down and started digging through a drawer, "Then meet him outside."

Aleksander was about to argue when the door opened. "Oh, there you are." Matthias said as he walked in, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Aleksander glanced over to the owner, who seemed to be eyeing Matthias. Brushing it off as it only being strange to him, Aleksander turned his attention back to the traveler, "I could say the same about you."

Matthias only shrugged and handed him a bag of coins, "This is your change from the sale on your clothes."

Aleksander took it and peered into the bag, "Thank you."

Aleksander put the bag away as Matthias approached the desk, tossing his own bag of money onto the counter, "I would like some leather, please."

The owner blinked at him, "I don't sell to southerners."

That caught Aleksander's attention easily. More because he didn't understand why. They were all a part of Scandinavia, right? What did it matter? As Aleksander stood there confused, Matthias' shoulders slouched, "You have to be joking."

The owner shook his head, "Wish I was."

"But-but," Matthias said, stumbling over his words as he became angry, "But you're Germanic! Even further south than where I'm from!"

"And if I was still in Germania," The owner began, "The I would still tell you that I don't sell to Southern Scandinavians."

Before Matthias could really lose his temper, Aleksander stepped in, "Do you sell to Westerners?" He asked, "I'm from the west, the capital even."

"You're with him." The owner pointed out, "Now go away and leave me in peace."

"You can't just refuse to sell leather to him because his southern." Aleksander stated firmly, "That's wrong."

"No?" The owner started, "I don't care, kid. Now get out before I get the guards."

Before he could protest again, Matthias scoffed and headed out the door, "Come on, Lukas. We can just go to the next town."

With one more glare to the owner, Aleksander followed, waiting to get back on the street before his spoke again, "Don't take it personally, Matthias."

Matthias nodded and rolled his eyes, "And why wouldn't I?"

Aleksander narrowed his eyebrows together, the scene from before still confusing him, "He refused bussiness to two other men." He stated, "An albino who the owner said that he didn't believe in his cause."

Matthias looked at him with a curious expression, "What cause?"

Aleksander shrugged, "I don't know. They never really said."

The traveler gave a thoughtful look, "Huh, maybe he's an asshole to everyone."

He sounded reassured somehow, almost as if knowing that he wasn't the only one who had a bad day with the blacksmith made him feel better. It did pose a few questions though. None of it really made sense. Why would anyone refuse business with Matthias anyway? And not for being a criminal, or anything of that sort, but for being southern. It seemed insignificant. Aleksander would say that it was just an old man with a grudge, but Matthias acted like this had happened before.

Then he remembered Yao's history lessons. Scandinavia has had many rough patches in his history, mainly civil wars, but the last war wasn't even really a war, but more of blame game over an economic depression, and that was long before his grandfather's time. Everyone who witnessed has been dead for at least one hundred years.

But wasn't that what he was here for? To learn what society is like and figure out why so he can fix it when he's king? He had to take a moment to let that sink in. He wasn't just here to see what life was like, but he was here to learn where the problems were, and begin to plan how to correct and improve the empire.

Well, if that was the case, then he had some questions to ask Matthias.

Author's Note:

Sorry this took so freaking long, but I had some writer's block, then when I figured it out, classes and work got in the way. Anywho, you'll see Eiríkur in the next chapter!