There was a howl of wind that rushed over the caravan, shaking the carriages and wagons as a huge winged shadow passed over and dropped something ahead in the road. That hit with a loud thud that kicked up dust like something had drilled slightly into the dirt that made up this trail.

Wade Wilson glanced up as he took a drink from the canteen. "Oh, here it comes," he said. "Thanks for this, by the way." He raised the canteen to Morgol with a nod.

Before the dust could cleared a figure stepped through shrouded in a tattered black cloak that only barely concealed the leather armor that he wore over his chest. He was a moderately tall man with a full beard trimmed low so that it was cropped close to his face and long, brown hair. His resting face was a bit of a scowl, though Wade knew that's all it was as Bucky Barnes had made a point of turning his life around.

As Bucky made his way toward the lead wagon a dark skinned, winged man swooped in behind him, the wings folding in on themselves until they were concealed behind his back. His hair was cut low, though not as finely edged up and even as it had been when they first arrived and he had forgone the facial hair entirely. And his armor was a stripped down and partially modified version of what he had wrong on the other world.

The combat goggles had stopped working by this time, but Sam Wilson still used them to keep the dust and glare out of his eyes when he flew.

"No super-hero landing?" Wade asked pointing out at them. "Buck, you were hidden in that dust cloud! If you did the thing I couldn't even see it."

"What's going on up there?" Came a shout from one of the other carriages behind the lead.

Wade pushed the pistol into Morgol's face. "Tell them to stay back there or I swear to Volcanica that I will splatter your brains all over this sad wooden bench seat."

"Nothing! It's private! Stay there!" Morgol shouted.

Sam Wilson, the man who had just landed with the wings, jogged the rest of the way over. "Wade, could you put a lid on the crazy for just a moment. Stop sticking that gun in the man's face."

"It's not loaded. Since I ran out of bullets the first day we were here," Wade said before leaning close to Morgol. "How was I supposed to know those people with wolf heads weren't werewolves?"

Wade hopped down from the seat behind the ground dragons and walked over next to Sam just as Bucky Barnes reached them. "Calm down Chocolate Bear," he said caressing Sam's face.

"I told you to cut that shit out!" Sam slapped his hand away.

Bucky held his gloved hands up. "Let's hold off on the sticking deadly weapons in people's faces until we figure out if these are the people that we're looking for," said Bucky.

"I don't even have bullets," Wade said.

"You told Crusch that you were going to keep Wade in line," Bucky said getting in Sam's face.

"I said that we were going to watch him," Sam explained. "We're supposed to be out here doing our part to find members of the Witch Cult, but we can't exactly trust Wade to stay back in the capital without some kind of incident."

"Why would you think you could volunteer me for that?" Bucky said.

"Well, we're supposed to be acting as a team here since Lady Crusch is trusting us to do this!"

There was an eerie silence around them that made Sam, Bucky, and Wade look up toward Morgol. The man smiled deeply, his body took on this suddenly limp appearance similar to a puppet with its strings cut. He began to cackle and laugh hysterically.

"Well that's not good," said Bucky.

Wade brought his gun up aiming it at the merchant. "What's so funny?"

"You're too late," Morgol said between bouts of laughter.

The sound of the gunshot exploded through the air. The bullet ripped through Morgol's head dropping him to the bench seat on the carriage.

Bucky and Sam stared at Wade in utter shock.

Wade held his gun up and ejected the magazine to check it. "Oh, right. I left the empty gun at home because this one had one bullet left in it. Oops, sorry, Morgol."

Even after the gunshot and all of the ruckus they had caused, no one came. There wasn't even a peep from the merchant caravan. Bucky ran out to the side of the road to look back at the rest of the carts.

"They're gone," he yelled.

"Gone? We're in the middle of a field," Sam said. He flattened his arms out to the side and opened the wings on his suit, prepared to take to the sky and get a better look around. In the instant before he took off he heard Wade's voice.

"Uh, either we found them or we attracted the attention of the Narnia Chapter of the KKK."

It was as if they had blinked and the figures were just there. They had formed a circle around the three men and all of them were dressed in the same dark purple robes with red trim and red embroidered writing.

"It looks like Lady Crusch's intel was good," Sam went to take off again. A wind swept through the group and swirled around him, just as he lifted off of the ground one of the cultist wrapped something around his feet to try and tether him down. Instead the cloaked cult member was yanked off of the ground behind Sam.

In the months that he had been in this strange land, in the months since Wakanda he had found that the jets that made his wings function were effectively dead. They only had enough fuel for a few flights and he had been using the for hours in the fight to beat back Thanos. Some strange power in this world had filled him, granting him the ability to fly without the need to actually have fuel.

Crusch had called it a Divine Protection of Wind. He didn't quite get it, but from the moment he set foot in this world he hadn't needed to be taught about it or how to use it. In fact, it took no practice. He flew with it even more naturally than with the jets he had previously used.

Though things were awkward right now with a cultist flapping in the air behind him. Sam tucked his arms in and did as steep climb, only to dive toward the ground and go into a barrel roll to try and shake the person. They persisted to hang on.

On the ground Wade and Bucky were assaulted at the exact same moment. Wade barely had time to get his katana up and block the strike while Bucky covered his face and chest with his vibranium arm, the thing that his cloak had been made to conceal from view (though he ruined another cloak in the process). The arm whirred as he twisted it around unnaturally and grabbed the cultist at the shoulder and flung them up into the air.

Wade kicked his attacker and sent the cultist stumbling away. In the time bought by the maneuver her whirled around and hacked the man Bucky had through down out of the air sheering him clean in two.

A moment later another cultist dropped from the sky clutching Sam's boots. There were only three more of them left which Bucky and Wade finished off with a crossbow that the former carried and more deft sword strikes by Wade. When things had calmed down and Sam had surveyed the area he landed near the cultist he had dropped to retrieve his boots.

"I'll search the bodies," Wade said.

Bucky was headed over to the carriages. "Well, you made the biggest mess with them." As he reached the side of the lead carriage he grabbed the covering that protected whatever the goods were that rested in the back and ripped it away to reveal a mixture of clothes and food, without the tarp there though and in the hot sun there was a heavy, pungent odor.

"Food's all rotten again?" Asked Sam.

Bucky nodded. "This batch is really bad—I don't get it."

"Ferris said that there were reports of food around our sightings going bad really fast and even some people losing their minds. It must be something they're doing," Sam said.

"But why would they even bother to carry food?" Bucky asked. "Like it's just an indication of what they are."

"If anybody sees it. Look, we still don't know how these guys are recruiting. Some of the previous members didn't even seem to know they were part of a plan until they snapped," Sam said.

Wade held up a small laminated card. "Found a full sandwich punch card—I'll be keeping this."

There was something they were missing here and there was only one place that Bucky could think to look. Using the strength afforded to him by the mechanical arm, he grabbed the structural board at the side of one of the carts and ripped it free collapsing that whole wall of the cart and causing the contents to spill out.

"Got something here," Bucky yelled.

Sam and Wade jogged over to look at the glowing stones buried beneath the food along with some weapons.

"What do you suppose they are?" Asked Bucky.

"Nothing we want to bring into town, chances are if they're glowing like that they could have you two looking like me," Wade said.

"What now?" Sam asked.

"We drag it way off of the road. It's too dangerous to take it anywhere else and if we hurry back maybe we can…no they'll just send more people to get it," Bucky said rubbing his chin.

Wade produced a grenade from under his cloak. "What about this?" he asked.

Sam seemed reluctant at first, but then agreed with a nod. "Lets get these Ground Dragons free first."

One of them, a Ground Dragon of the Diana species was a type that Crusch had noted in the past was a bit more feisty than most. Wade walked over and took it by the reigns. "Bucky and I will share this one back," he offered.

"There's no way I'm sharing a Ground Dragon with you when there's like five others out here," Bucky said.

"It's more efficient, save a horse and ride a cowboy. Come on, it'll be fun," Wade said as he led the dragon away from the cart.

"I'm not riding a Ground Dragon with someone who dresses up in a poker chips themed gimp suit," Bucky said.

"I'm shocked you know what a gimp suit is, Grandpa Bucky. Ride with me and regale me with one of your tales about the Great Depression!"

Bucky had already selected a dragon from the ones that Sam hadn't freed yet and he was mounting it. "I'll see you back at the manor, Wade, Sam."

Sam gave a wave of his arm and backed away from them only to take off into the sky and fly back toward Fleur. Bucky was right behind him riding a spirited green dragon in the same direction.

Wade waited until they were clear and began to trot away as he flung a grenade back over his shoulder into the pile carts. "Can't believe them. What kind of person doesn't want to at least watch something blow up?" Wade muttered to himself. "Isn't that right girl?" He asked the Ground Dragon.

She was a black scaled, bipedal creature with yellow eyes and a pointed snout. Though Wade wasn't sure how intelligent the creature was, she did seem to have a sort of awareness about her.

"Hmm, I suppose they do have something right. It's not cool for bad asses to look back at explosions. I'll give that to them. It's a nice cinematic trailer shot," he said as the Ground Dragon trotted along under him.

In the instant when the grenade exploded Wade knew something was wrong, there was a brilliant flash and the ground was rocked. Dust and debris was flung up into the air. The Ground Dragon picked up speed in an instant, running and dodging side to side to avoid the falling rocks as the cloud of dust tried to overtake them.

Somewhere up ahead he could hear Bucky cursing and yelling at him.

After the late breakfast or early lunch, whichever it turned out to be, Peter was dragged away to the front lawn by Emilia. She wouldn't speak or even look back at him until they were standing beneath the domed gazebo. She let his hand go and turned around to face him, fidgeting with her fingers over her lap.

"I owe you an apology," she started. "When this whole thing got under way I assumed that you were of this world and that you might even know who I was. Maybe you had been sent by another of the candidates."

Emilia let out a soft sigh, though as she exhaled her shoulder slumped and the proper posture she usually held relaxed. "It's just that, people don't tend to want to be my friend," Emilia explained.

Peter folded his arms over his chest. "I get it. Really."

"Not telling you about the Royal Selection wasn't me attempting to hide the truth. By the time that I realized you didn't know the truth, things had gotten so busy."

"Finding out there's other worlds and, like, everything. I can see how it's a lot to take in."

"That having been said," Emilia started, "You should not have divulged to Margrave Roswaal where it is you come from."

Peter tightened up. "Wait, you live here with him. You don't trust him?"

Emilia's eyes drifted to the side as she took her right wrist in her left hand. "I don't know really. Sometimes I get a suspicion."

"Oh! T-t-the tingle!" Peter said, remembering.

"Ting-gal?" Emilia asked, her focus back on him and her head tilted to one side in confusion.

"I've got this, uh, this kind of danger-sense thingy when someone's about to attack," he said.

Emilia pressed a dainty hand to her cheek, her purple eyes lost in thought. "Is that how you were able to avoid Elsa's attacks?"

Peter confirmed this with a nod of his head. "Like, May, she's my aunt—she says that it looks to most people like I'm just too fast to hit, but in reality I anticipate most hits. Roswaal doesn't know about that," Peter said.

"So if Roswaal goes to hit you, you'll know before hand and dodge?" Emilia asked.

"When you put it like that it sounds less useful, but sometimes it can just pick up on intent," Peter said.

"Men with the kind of power Roswaal has have a way of influencing things without having to be directly involved. If he's backing my candidacy, I have to believe he has more planned than just being in good with the winner. Were that the case he would have backed Lady Crusch."

Peter glanced to her. "Who is Lady Crusch?"

"Duchess Crusch Karsten is the favorite to win by a wide margin. She is probably the most experienced of the others at leading too," said Emilia.

"Maybe that's why Roswaal didn't go to her, he was worried that she would see through him or not give him the control needed?"

"Perhaps, but…" Emilia looked up to see Ram and Rem working in the gardens. "We should change the subject."

Steve Rogers had come out with the maids and was attempting to help them reach higher spots on the trees that he assumed they couldn't get to without the aid of a ladder.

"It would be good for you to let Captain Rogers know, just in case."

Peter sighed. "I'll tell him when I get the next chance."

Emilia giggled behind her hand. "For right now he seems to be having a grand time with the maids."

Closer to the house where the hedges were, Steve was getting lectured by Ram while Rem pretended to focus on the task of trimming the bushes. Instead she was just holding her shears out in the air opening and closing them needlessly while she watched Steve.

Peter wandered if he should ask about the maids, especially since the one was particularly taken with Steve. He thought the better of it; if Emilia didn't know what was going on with Roswaal there was a fair chance that she was up in the air where it concerned the maids too.

"We'll talk later, Peter," Emilia said. "I'm going to go check on Puck and Miss Beatrice."

"Ah-okay," Peter said leaning against the railing of the gazebo. "I'll hold the fort down here," he added, giving the wooden rail a good knock with his fist.

After Ram and Rem had given them an official tour of the whole house things calmed back down to a more leisurely pace. Sure, they had just been asked to protect a woman who might be the next ruler of this country, but perhaps there was a chance that the dangers they faced last night were fluke?

Steve didn't really believe that. He slipped down deeper into the waters of the large bath until the water was just touching the bottom of his chin and soaking into his beard. Of all the things that he had been shown in the house, this was probably his favorite: the bath. It was, from what he heard, similar to a Japanese bath. The closest approximation that he had experienced in his own lifetime had been steam rooms and the like. Tony loved the things, though he hated being around people in public in them.

It was weird for Steve to think about how far he had come from what he used to be and how much he had seen. When he had been a kid the mention of the Japanese seemed almost mystic, magical. He would have thought that going to their country would have been as jarring and strange as coming to Lugnica. After December 7th, 1941 he and the rest of the Untied States felt a bit differently about Japan.

By the time he woke up in New York City seventy years later there were huge blinking billboards for Japanese mega companies in the middle of Time's Square. And now here he was in a world where the mere mention of Japan would illicit a reaction of confusion and questions.

Life was unable to give Steve Rogers a chance to catch up. It might be why resting in this bath felt so novel to him. He could take things slow and relax. Maybe just think back over everything that had happened since coming here. It had only been about a day now, but it felt like so much longer.

Steve closed his eyes, resting his head back against the edge of the bath. Then he heard the door open. There was a rush of cool air. The bath area was a large room with a circular basin set into the floor with columns around it. Though there was plenty of room outside of the tub and around it, Steve hadn't anticipated anyone coming in this time of day.

"Mind if I join you?" Came the sing-song tone of Roswaal. He had managed to get very close to Steve before he had even heard the footsteps and before Steve could give an answer the Margrave began to rock his body side to side so that something slapped against Roswaal's thighs dangerously close to the back of Steve's head.

So the man was already fully nude. Steve opened his eyes. "It's your house, but I'd welcome a chat," Steve said. Seeing other men fully naked was commonplace in the military, though this was an odd way for the whole thing to be approached from the Margrave's perspective.

The man climbed into the water opposite Steve, but as he did the one thing Steve noticed was that this was not the body of some pampered blue blood. Roswaal was cut. With the makeup washed off of his face and his dark, blue hair loosed up by the moisture in the air he could see Roswaal as he was and not as he projected himself to be.

Sure, he was probably a bit weird, but the makeup and the clothes gave off a nonthreatening aura. Especially when it concerned his physicality. Steve wondered if that was intentional.

The Margrave settled into the water. "So what did you want to talk about?" He asked.

"Well, it has to do with the thing you wanted me to help you with. Protecting Emilia sounds like a fine idea, her being a Royal Selection candidate might bring some undesired attention. Problem is that I used to fight using this kind of shield—it was impossibly sturdy and could deflect almost anything and I would also throw it to hit targets and call it back with a magnet."

Roswaal thumbed his chin. "That seems tactically interesting. Interesting indeed."

"It was a round, buckler shield and I doubt we can replicate the exact thing. But maybe there is something similar I could borrow?"

"I may have something," Roswaal said. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Steve said. That was really as far in the conversation as he had planned and he didn't really expect it to be over that quick. "So, what does a Margrave do?"

"Tend to the needs of the people, oversea visitors and movements in their lands, see that the crown's justice isn carried out, and secure any borders with outside countries…" Roswaal trailed off.

Steve nodded. "That seems like a lot, but things seem to be working out pretty well for you from what I can see."

Roswaal's smile grew. "With the section of a ruler fast approaching and you could say that the anticipation for more great things to come is actually paaaaaal-pable."

"Thought you'd say something like that," Steve laughed.

"You were a soldier, I'm told, Captain Rogers?" Asked Roswaal.

Steve splashed some water into his face. "Yeah, or I was. Things changed. My country didn't need heroes overseas in the war effort anymore and a lot of the fighting started to be done through subterfuge and underhanded dealings."

"It sounds like you didn't have the stomach for it," Roswaal said.

"Sometimes it really got to me. Other times, I was shocked at how far I was willing to go," Steve said.

Roswaal took a lump of soap from a tray near the side of the basin and had begun washing his long hair. "Now that is a sentiment that I am very familiar with."

"Emilia, is she your adopted daughter or…"

"She is an honored guest, if anything. I have only known the girl for a few months now."

"What about Ram and Rem?"

"Those two have been employed here long enough to have grown up under this roof," Roswaal said spreading his arms wide above his head as if to indicate exactly which roof he was speaking of.

"It feels like Miss Rem is a little terrified of me," said Steve.

"Quite the opposite, I think," Roswaal said. "As you talk to her I am sure you will come to see what I mean."

"Hm."

"The thing is, being an outcast myself has led me to have something of a soft spot for other outcasts."

Steve stood up out of the water, not making a show of his nakedness but also not wanting to insinuate that he was embarrassed or put off by being seen. Roswaal gasped, though he hurried to straighten up his expression. "Well, Master Roswaal, I can vouch for the fact that outcasts are some of the best people out there."

"Nice chatting with you, Captain."

"My pleasure, Margrave," Steve said with a devilish smile before turning to head for the door. He grabbed a towel from a shelf full of folded ones and began to dry off. Just then the door swung open again and Steve glanced up to see Ram standing in the doorway and staring at him.

"Captain Rogers," she said with a shallow bow. Then her eyes drifted down between his legs. "You should put that thing away before somebody trips over it," Ram said, obviously struggling to keep her voice monotone.

"I-yeah-I thought we were going to repair the, um, barrier thing?" Steve said quickly climbing into the underwear he had brought.

"We are, but I need to dress Lord Roswaal first," Ram said. She placed the stack of clothes she had brought for him down and then walked over to Steve.

"Do you mind?" She began to roughly push Steve out into the hall in just his underwear. He didn't fight back too hard but she was still surprisingly strong. She shut the door behind him.

A moment later she reopened the door and flung his other clothes out into the hall. "You can dress out here if you hurry."