Note: This is basically a coming-of-age/friendship story about my two favorite Zexen Knights as teenagers. It is going to focus a lot on class differences and aristocratic customs. There won't be any kind of romance, and Chris will be only mentioned briefly. There really wasn't a lot given in the game about Borus's background, so I made up a lot of stuff here, most of it being how I think it might have been in medieval Europe. I called this "The Odyssey" b/c it's supposed to be a journey of some sort and b/c I can't think up a good title. It might be a little boring, since there's not gonna be any swordfights or explosions or whatever, just mostly blabber. Anyway, feedback would be nice, even if you think it sucks.

"Seriously, man. A girl?" Percival cocked his head and furrowed his brows in an exaggerated expression of disbelief. The seventeen-year-old squire stole a glance at the blond boy sitting across the wooden mess hall table from him. He wanted to see his friend's reaction to the news that they'd heard last night but didn't have the chance to discuss until this morning.

Borus said nothing and maintained a vacant face, as if he didn't hear Percival. With great concentration, he poked around his gray breakfast porridge with his wooden spoon. He seemed to have an unnatural interest in the unappetizing food. All around them were the sounds of several dozen other young squires eating and conversing. Everyone was taking it easy today, since there was no training on the Holy Sabbath. It was mid-morning and the boys have just returned from Mass, which, in the Church of St. Loa, always started before daybreak on Sundays.

"Redrum!" Percival snapped at the sixteen-year-old when he failed to respond. Borus looked up from the bowl with a 'huh?' expression on his face. Percival eyed him curiously. He was acting a little odd this morning, both at Mass and now. "The hell's the matter with you?"

"Ah, you mean that Lightfellow girl?"

"No, Redrum. I meant all those other girls we have training to be knights." Percival rolled his eyes.

Borus shrugged, ignoring the sarcasm. "Well, I remember my uncle used to tell me old war stories of when he was knight. He'd mention a lot about how Wyatt Lightfellow used to be some great Zexen warrior and such. You know, before he disappeared all of a sudden. Maybe it's the bloodline."

Percival shook his head. "Don't be silly." He paused while he gulped down a spoonful from his own porridge bowl. "Everything's lineages and bloodlines with you nobility, isn't it?" He smirked at Borus. "Just the result of all that inbreeding, huh?"

Borus shot him an icy glare from across the table. "Kidding, only kidding," he said chuckling. He knew that Borus tended to get touchy whenever his aristocratic background was mentioned, almost as if it were something to be ashamed of. But that just made it even more fun to tease his fellow squire about it every chance he had.

Looking back down at his bowl, Borus began to stir the lumpy porridge again without ever taking a bite. "I know she just officially became a squire yesterday, but they said she's been training really hard under Lord Emile as a page for years. She has to be pretty decent at least if they're gonna seriously consider her for the Knighthood."

"So you think we should give her the benefit of the doubt?"

"Why not?"

"Well, according to some of the other guys, it's tainting the respectability of the Zexen Knights and making the criteria for joining a bad joke."

"Yeah? Didn't they say the same thing when Captain Galahad let you become a squire?" Borus's words were quite true. Percival, after all, had been a mere peasant boy from the countryside, and the Knighthood was supposed to be an organization for sons of the nobility. But he had been able to demonstrate his superior talent and earn the respect of the upper-class boys. Along with Borus, he was considered by his instructors to be the exemplary squire (at least as far as swordsmanship was concerned; Borus tended to take the whole chivalry business a lot more seriously).

"Hmm...guess you're right, Redrum. Can't argue with reason," Percival said. "Though that doesn't come too often from you, does it?" he added with a grin.

Borus ignored him. "But she is quite pretty, isn't she?" He smiled a little to himself.

"Eh? You think so? I've seen better."

"She's only fourteen. Give her a few years."

"I suppose. What I do want to see is how good her riding and swordsmanship really is," Percival said as he emptied his bowl and stood up, ready to leave the mess hall. "Ready to go? You don't seem to plan eat that mess."

"Go where?"

Percival shrugged. "I dunno. Hang around town. Chill. Same thing we always do on Sabbath. Can't have any real fun 'til evening anyway."

"Whatever." Borus stood up. Leaving the bowls and wares for the maids to clean up, they exited the hall. "You know, I didn't have much of an appetite this morning, but I'm still hungry for some reason," Borus commented as they passed through the cramped, gloomy squires' barracks to get outside onto the sunny streets of Vinay del Zexay, the lively capital of the Zexen Federation.

"Who would have an appetite for that pigswill they serve? If you want, we can always hit the street vendors later and buy something that's actually edible." Percival glanced over at Borus and saw that he had dug his hands deep into the pockets of his expensive trousers and was staring down at the cold stone floor as he walked. "You okay, man?"

"Huh? Sure."

"If you ask me, you were acting a bit strange this morning." The two squires pushed past the tall wooden doors that led to the outside world and passed by the old guard that stood vigilantly by them. The barracks had stood to the side of the training center at the every end of Seaport Avenue. The cool autumn breeze greeted them as they stepped out of the stone building.

They walked along the busy street filled with pedestrians and horse-drawn carts down towards the docks. Borus always found it fun to simply watch the great merchant ships unload their cargos from overseas, though Percival generally insisted on sneaking onboard one of them and wrecking whatever havoc he could think of from there. "What was that?" Borus asked as they walked.

"I said you were kinda quiet this morning."

"Oh."

"You didn't get rebuffed by some girl, did you?"

"Heh, that's more your style."

Percival laughed and ran his fingers through his sleek dark hair in a shamelessly egotistical gesture. "Like that could ever happen to me."

"Cocky bastard."

They eventually reached the intersection between Seaport Avenue and Ocean Street, the paved roadway that ran alongside the sea. The waves splashing against the seawall and the cries of gulls mixed with the typical sounds of the hectic city. Along the walkway, several smaller roads branched off the main street, leading to the docks. Borus took the first one he came across, turning left and walking down the length of an empty dock without a word. Percival trailed behind, curious at his odd behavior.

Borus reached the end of the wooden pier and stopped, looking out to sea as the ocean breeze whipped his soft blond hair about his face. Percival hopped up to sit upon a chest-high wooden post a few feet away. He looked at his friend's pensive expression and frowned. "Okay, Redrum. I know something must be up with you. Spit it out."

There was a long pause. Percival was about to repeat himself when Borus finally spoke in an oddly detached voice without turning his head. "My...father died last night."

His statement was followed by yet another long awkward pause. "Uh..." Percival began uncomfortably, completely taken aback and unsure of what to say.

"Well, technically he died this morning. Around two. Heart attack. Lord Sihelm informed me just before Mass." Borus spoke quietly and didn't once look at Percival as he talked. It was almost as if he were speaking to himself.

"Oh..." Percival suddenly felt absolutely awful about his remarks at breakfast of Borus's family. "Sorry, man. I didn't know. I'm really sorry..." He got down from the post and stood beside Borus, staring out into the vast ocean alongside his friend.

Borus waited a bit before speaking. A sharp bitterness pierced his voice. "Don't be. I always hated that old bastard anyway." He looked over at Percival's shocked face for the first time.

"What?!"

He shook his head. "Look, I really don't wanna get into this right now."

"Sure." Percival quickly shut up, perplexed as he was.

Borus turned and started to walk back towards Ocean Street. He stopped suddenly. "Tomorrow I'm gonna be heading back to the manor for a few days. You know, to attend the funeral and help take care of inheritance business with my brothers and all that."

"Oh yeah. Of course."

He began again, his voice lowered a bit. "I'd like you to come with me, if you don't mind."

"Err...are you sure? I mean, I don't wanna meddle in your family affairs or anything."

"No..." Borus trailed off. "I...I just think I..." He sighed. "Look, you don't have to. I'm just asking as a favor, that's all. If you'd rather be training—" He turned around and looked at Percival. His golden brown eyes, filled with a childlike helplessness, seemed lost and uncertain. Percival had never seen him like this before, and it made him extremely uncomfortable.

"No, no, of course I'll go. If Sihelm'll let me, that is."

"He said it'll be all right if someone comes with me."

"Good. Then it's settled."

Borus looked down at the wooden planks below his feet. "Thank you, Percival. I really appreciate this."

"Sure thing."

He turned back around. "I'm going back to the barracks. There's some things I need to think over. You can go do your own thing."

Percival certainly didn't want to stay with Borus. As much as he wished to give his friend his full support, it would have been far too awkward for both of them. "Hmm...I think I'm gonna go for a nice long ride in Zexen forest." He caught up beside Borus to walk with him back to training center so he could borrow a horse.

"Just don't push the poor creature too hard. I heard your horse collapsed the last time you had a race with Mycella." Borus managed a half-hearted smile.

"I still won, didn't I?" Percival beamed proudly, trying to take their minds off the situation, at least for now. "Say, you think that kid's up for a rematch today? I didn't see him at breakfast."

"No. Him, Chukov, and Harrison were headed for Flandersville right after Mass."

"That boring little village? What on earth for?"

Borus shrugged. "For the country whores, if I had to guess."

"Ah yes, the good old country whores... Awww...now I wanna go too."

"Don't tell me that the notorious ladies' man Percival Fraulein needs whores in order to get some." Borus's familiar boldness edged its way back into his voice.

Percival quietly sighed in relief, glad that the solemnity had worn off for the time being. He slammed Borus on the arm with a fist, smirking. "You must be talking about yourself, Redrum. I don't need whores, but sometimes their callousness is preferred to all those fanatical town girls so eager to make me lunchboxes and raving about how strong and handsome I am." He sounded a bit too pleased with himself.

"Merciful Goddess," Borus muttered, shaking his head. "You're such a pompous ass."

Ignoring his remark, Percival said musingly, "Know who I should ask to ride with me? That new girl, Chris Lightfellow."

Borus suddenly glowered at him. "You don't even bloody know her."

As Percival caught his glare, a wide grin crept onto his face. "Jealous, are we now, Lord Redrum?"

"Yeah, you just go on thinking that," Borus turned to look straight ahead, pretending to act uninterested.

"You should be. You know she'd fall for me long before you."

"Maybe. If she were into arrogant, self-important jerks."

"Better than an uptight prick with no sense of humor." Both boys snickered to confirm the lack of seriousness in their insults. They had reached the squires' barracks and the training center by now and were about to go their own ways. "So I'm guessing you're not up to barhopping tonight, huh?" Percival asked.

"No, but don't let me stop you. Just don't stay up too late. We're gonna be leaving early tomorrow. And you'd better not have a hangover by then."

"I'll do my best, my friend. Later." Percival started towards the stables. Actually, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to go out tonight at all. He could've easily found other squires to go with, but things tended to be a lot more fun with Borus. Ever since they first met and became friends two years ago, he was always thinking up new ways to get them into potential trouble. He found it endlessly amusing to watch Borus attempt to uphold his squeaky clean image while going along with his devious proposals.

Brooding thoughts overcame Percival once again as Borus left to head inside the barracks. In all honesty, he didn't want to go with Borus. As a knight-in-training, he was used to being the lone commoner among noble boys, but these were just kids. Meeting a rich aristocratic family was different, even if it was his best friend's. He knew from experience that the nobility often looked upon commoners as little more than animals. He was apprehensive about how the Redrum family would receive him.

But then again, he couldn't just desert Borus right now. He had never seen his friend quite so troubled as he had looked at the docks. Percival didn't quite understand why. After all, didn't Borus say he hated his father? He was definitely upset about something, but it quite didn't seem to be his father's death, exactly. It must be some upper-class problem he couldn't comprehend. Percival recalled that whenever Borus was going back to visit his family in the past for the holidays or whatever, he never looked too happy about it. In any case, Borus certainly did seem like he needed some backing at a time like this.

Percival stepped into the dark, smelly stables and picked out his favorite horse, a tall, lean chestnut gelding. Riding had been his favorite pastime ever since he was a kid growing up in Iksay Village, and if there was one thing he knew how to do well besides fight, it's how to distinguish good horse. All the horses available for the squires' training were rejected candidates for knights' chargers. Percival could almost always tell why they were rejected, but not with this chestnut. In addition to having a good disposition, it was sturdy, strong, and very, very fast. He hoped that he could convince his superiors let him keep this particular steed as his own charger after he gets knighted seven months from now when he turns eighteen. But then again, he might not want to pass up his chance to get one of those splendid stallions that was assigned to all new knights. He'd have to wait and see.

After saddling the gelding, he signed it out with the stable guard and mounted it. He began to head towards the eastern end of the city to exit its walls and enter the lovely autumn woods. But before he could even leave the training center, he was suddenly confronted by Borus, emerging from the barracks with an edgy look on his face.

"Now, you weren't really gonna ask Chris Lightfellow to ride with you, right?"