When Mark woke up, he was on the back of a horse, buckled down to it's back with cloth straps and belts. He cracked an eye open to see if he was in danger, saw it was just his companions, and yawned. Slipping a knife from his sleeve into his hand he quietly cut his bindings, stretched, and jumped off the horse. No one was speaking as the group continued their march towards Caelin. Lyn lead the group with Kent and Sain, all three of whom looked miserable. Dorcas's normally broad and heavy pace held a bit of a shamble uncommon to the man. Serra wasn't constantly boasting about how great she was, instead giving a passive hint for praise to Erk every now and again. Erk wasn't listening, and he seemed deep in thought. This wasn't uncommon to Erk in the slightest, he always did overthink things, but it was obvious from his face that he didn't like his current mindset. Rath silently rode on, head raised in an attempt to scout out any enemies that could be laying in wait. Will would occasionally shoot an arrow at random targets they walked past, until Erk reminded him he was low on arrows as it was. After that he just kept his head sunken and marched on. Florina never left the sky, even when her pegasus was starting to get tired. Finally Mark's eyes settled on Matthew. He juggled a few knives in his hands, obviously bored and unconcerned for the situation. Of course he could keep his cool as a spy and all, but it pissed Mark off nonetheless.

"Oh, you're up." Erk said, casually nodding at Mark as he took his first steps of the morning.

"Welcome back from the world of sleep!" Serra said happily.

"... You didn't use that sleep spell on me again did you?" Mark asked, reluctant to have the answer.

"No." Serra pouted. "Erk wouldn't let me because he hates fun."

"You almost killed him last time." Erk said flatly.

"Oh don't be such a stick in the mud Erk. It's just light fun. Jokes! Pranks!" Serra retorted.

"Of course." Erk said with light sarcasm.

"Well anyway." Mark said lightly rubbing the side of his head with a finger, "Where are we right now Erk?"

"We've entered Lycia, near Pharae. It's a small territory with a few villages spread throughout it. Apparently we will be stopping by one this afternoon." Erk promptly replied.

"Excellent." Mark said, "Let's hope it is without incident this time." The group continued it's solemn march.

When the group did make it to the town, Mark couldn't help but notice the abnormally high amount of people in pitch black garments carrying weapons. They'd all obviously seen combat in their time. Mark uneasily read his tome like it was a normal book, in case he needed to use it. For some reason, he felt like he was missing something, but he was so exhausted from only having recently woken up that nothing was coming to mind. The group stopped in the center of the village.

"This is a good place. Spread out and buy supplies as you need. The gold Rath brought with him should be enough for anything you need. I'm going to the inn to try and get some information." Lyn said to everyone. Mark raised an eyebrow at Lyn's assertive manner. It's not like it was unlike her per se, but Mark felt like he should have been asked his opinion as the groups tactician. He shook his head to clear these selfish thoughts. Stop that. He thought, You're being paranoid. It's not a bad plan, you wouldn't even have said anything different. Mark looked back up to see that everyone was already heading in their own directions. Erk clasped a hand onto Mark's shoulder.

"Let me guess." He said. "You're going with her?"

"Correct." Mark said, watching Lyn slowly walk away. "Why?"

"You're concerned she's still not doing well after the news of her grandfather?" Erk guessed.

"Also correct. What else?" Mark asked.

"... I don't know. You care about her?"

"That was implied in the first guess. I'm also going because word of the Caelin succession troubles have probably reached other parts of Lycia. If she gets recognized it could be trouble."

"If you get recognized it could be worse." Erk replied.

Mark laughed. "No one out here knows who I am." He said confidently, lying through his teeth. He'd already been identified by a Lycian lord. Of course they could know, and of course he knew it, but maybe Erk would buy it.

He didn't, "Of course." He said sarcastically, a seeming habit he was beginning to form from his time with Serra. "Just be careful. Need anything from town?"

"Just some elixirs if you could spare them." Mark said. Erk clapped him on the back and ran to catch up to Serra. Mark made his way to Lyn's side.

"Don't need anything?" Lyn asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'll be fine by myself."

"Oh I know." Mark said, smiling. "But isn't a shame for such a beautiful woman to be in a town by herself?" He raised an eyebrow and flashed a toothy grin. He felt like an idiot but it worked.

Lyn blushed. "M-Mark what-" Mark laughed at his companions expression and raised his hands.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just trying to get you to loosen up. Besides, as a marquess I'm sure you'll have any number of suitors knocking on your door. Might as well get used to the ones of low moral standing that are mixed into the bunch."

"Thanks, Sain." Lyn said. She still seemed upset, but she was certainly less tense. "What about you did you have a lot of suitors?"

Mark laughed nervously. "What?"

"Did you have a lot of suitors!" Lyn asked again.

"Where is that coming from?" Mark asked.

"You're the one who brought it up!" Lyn retorted. "Come on, it's only fair. You embarrassed me in town, I should get some sort of compensation."

"Well…" Mark scratched the back of his head and looked at the ground. "...Never really got any suitors to be honest. If I did, I sure never saw them." Mark paused. "I don't think anyone would really like to be married to someone like me anyway."

"Why not? You're a noble right?" Lyn said.

"Well, not exactly." Mark said. "Well… I guess maybe I am."

"That doesn't make sense. Come on, isn't it feasible at all that someone would want to marry into higher standing, even if maybe… well I don't know what, but it's possible right? It used to happen in Sacae constantly, lower status women trying to marry chief sons."

"Well, I suppose, but I think there's a large difference between-" Mark stopped. They had reached the inn. "Why don't we continue this later?" He asked, turning to Lyn.

She nodded. "Promise?"

Mark laughed. "Nope." And together they walked into the inn.


The lobby of the inn was also a small bar, with patrons strewn about the room. The bar itself was rundown, clearly without much thought or care put into it. As far as Mark saw though, it was the only bar in town, which is why so many were there, he assumed. None of the black-clothed fighters were in there either, only townsfolk. Several people stuck out to Mark. First was a young man, around the same age as Mark sitting with his back to the wall in the far corner of the bar. He had on a brown cloak that concealed the rest of his clothes, but he had a large ax leaning against the wall by his side. He tapped his foot on the floor, his arms crossed. The only other thing that stood out was his dark blue hair and firm jaw. Next was the bartender himself. He was an older man, wiping down the counter likely more out of boredom than cleanliness. He would occasionally pick up a mug, fill it up to the brim, and down it in one go. He was easily the most drunk at the bar, and it was hardly midday. Finally, there was a female monk sitting with some men at a round table. She was eagerly asking them questions, and they were happy to answer, likely trying to get on her good side. She had blue robes and long blonde hair.

"Where do we start?" Lyn asked. Standing by Mark's side and looking around the room. "Them?" She pointed to the monk's table.

Mark nodded. "Go ahead, I'll look around elsewhere. We'll meet up again with our findings in a little while at that table." Mark pointed to an empty table and the two split. Mark went straight for the man in the back, the one with the ax. He quietly pulled a chair out from the table and raised an eyebrow at the man.

"May I?" He asked politely. The man looked up. He stopped tapping his foot. He squinted slightly, as if trying to place Mark's face.

"... Sure." The man said, extending a hand. "The name's Lex."

What an unconvincing accent, and an even worse lie. Mark quietly thought to himself. He smiled. "Mine's Robin. A pleasure." He sat down. "Do you live here Lex?" He asked.

'Lex' shook his head. "No, no, I'm from Bern." He said. That's supposed to be a Bernian accent?! Come on, you can do better. Mark thought. Lex leaned in a little. "Came down this way looking for some strong fighters." The man casually, leaned back but eyed Mark carefully. "...You strong?" For how much he was making fun of the man for his fake accent, Mark suddenly froze. If he said yes, he'd potentially have a fight on his hands. If he said no, the man would clearly be able to see that his was lying. He'd possibly already known who Mark was from the beginning and was just trying to either mess with him or goad him into admitting it. After mulling it over for a little while, Mark decided on his safest bet.

"Yes, I suppose I am." He finally answered, carefully eyeing that huge ax. If a fight broke out he could probably run and act like he was alone. On the other hand, if he had let it drag on the others might get involved. The other man laughed. "What is it?" Mark asked innocently.

"Well, I just think we're a couple of liars, don't you?" The man said, dropping the accent. He waved Mark away. "Go on. I never saw you. I'm only here to visit a friend."

Mark didn't move. "I still have some questions."

The man's expression turned smug. "I don't have any of the answers you're looking for."

"I still want to ask them." Mark said, opening his mouth to ask the first one as the man slowly but with purpose, reached for the handle of his ax. He grabbed it and held it in both hands, layed it across his lap, and eyed Mark across the table.

"I don't have answers." He stated firmly. "Don't you think it's best if we just never saw each other?" The man added. Mark gulped. He slowly stood up.

"...Thank you for your time." Mark said.

"Don't mention it." The man said, putting his ax back and leaning back in his chair. "See you later sir." He said quietly, putting a little venom on the last word.

"You have no reason to call me that." Mark said quietly. He extended a hand again. The man took it. "Mark." Mark said simply. He already knew that the man knew his name. Mark just wanted to know his for future reference.

"Hector." The man said firmly. The name meant nothing to Mark, but obviously the man was important. Without another thought in the matter, Mark made his way to the bartender. He sat down at a stool and patiently waited for the bartender to notice.

"Room or drinks?" The man said, slurring the final 's'.

"Drinks." Mark said, smiling warmly. Soon he had a mug of very, very watery ale. He took a gulp and acted like it hit the spot. "Mmm." Mark said as he swallowed the, sadly, gross and ineffective liquid. "Hits the spot." He choked out. The bartender shot him a toothless grin.

"Ain't it?" The bartender said loudly. "It's only the best damn ale you'll ever set your dainty little lips on girly boy!" Mark's eye twitched slightly. Girly boy? He thought. He ignored it, but it took him a moment to regain himself.

"Best ale you'll ever have!" The man shouted again, more insistent this time. "I'm tellin ya Lucius this is the best, *hic* best damn drink. Best. Ever. Waaaaaaaaaay better than what those stuffed up nobles got." Lucius? Mark thought. This guy is clearly out of it. Do I even bother asking…? He mulled it over before biting his lip and asking.

"Nobles, eh?" Mark said. "Hey did you hear about all that stuff happening in Caelin?"

"Caelin?!" The man yelled. "Bahhh, Caelin ain't got the best ale sho what do I care, you know?" He slumped to the counter and slowly drew a circle on the wood with his finger. "But you know I think that that Lundgren guy is just a pompous ass, you know? Thinks he can run a castle after murdering his own brother for it, and everyone knows he did it. No one like him, I get people comin in here evvvvvry day to tell me how much they doooooont like him. The way I see it that new girly girl plains girly will be waaaay better in place of him, even without the experience." The man quietly stood back up and kept pouring drinks for himself. Mark blinked a few times at the man's suddenly sober and insightful remarks. Mark had heard that Lyn had most of the common people's support from Matthew the day before, but it was nice to have some reassurance. Just then the door burst open.

"Please!" A young voice cried. Mark turned and raised an eyebrow. A young boy wearing simple clothes and holding a wind pipe had rushed into the inn, out of breath. The bar went silent. He ran up to the counter, hopped onto it, and shook the bartender by the lapel. "Y-you've got to help me! They got her!"

"They? Who's 'they' kid?" The bartender said concerned.

"The Black Fang!" The kid said. A chill went down Mark's spine. He quietly kept and eye on the door as he listened. "Please, they're taking her right now but we can still stop them if…" The boy stopped sadly as the bartender looked away, taking the kid's hands off.

"Sorry kid." The bartender said quietly. "But get the hell out of my establishment."

"...What?" The kid asked, obvious hurt and despair in his tone.

"You heard me." The man said angrily. "Don't make me shout it. Get. Out."

The kid quietly backed away and looked out across the bar. Mark quietly watched him, hoping to St. Elmine that he wasn't going to fight against the Fang. He should have recognized them sooner. The boy sobbed lightly in the center of the room. "A-anyone?" He asked sadly. Lyn was standing up, but before she could the door to the inn burst open. Mark didn't look, but he already knew.

"Nils." A feminine voice echoed through the hall. The sound of high heels lightly tapped in the hall. "You really shouldn't run-" The voice stopped. The footsteps stopped. Mark sighed, stood up, downed the rest of his drink, and turned around.

The woman before him had short blue hair. A small crow pendant that Mark had bought her was around her neck. She held a tome that she and Mark made together. She wore the Black Fang's uniform. Mark suppressed the urge to cry. "Hello, sister." He said, hardly managing squeezing out the words. "...How's it going?"

A/N: You forgot Ursula makes a small appearance in the side quest after this chapter didn't you? I've decided to run with that, so all aboard! I will say now though, this won't be as crazy as you think it might be. Gotta save the juicy stuff for the MAIN storyline right? School has been ok, finally had some time, so I cranked this short, yet (I think) very full chapter out. If I feel like it there could possibly another chapter within the next two days but no promises. In the time I was away this story caught more attention that usual in breaks, so thanks a lot guys. As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. :D -Matt