"Where have you been?"

"Hey. You're up late."

"Well, you're home late."

"Shit dude, maybe because with my job I live by my own schedule. You don't."

"Well regardless, usually you tell me."

"Holy shit Clyde, I'm not your fucking spouse," Craig threw his sack near his bed annoyedly.

"I know, but I thought you wouldn't ditch out on me-"

"I have my own fucking life, Clyde," Craig groaned as he allowed himself to flop on his thin stuffed mattress.

Clyde was always like this whenever Craig came back to their place late. Always. Like a suspicious wife who thought her husband was out with some other woman. In turn, it always made Craig feel like he was in the wrong. But he wasn't. He was allowed to have his own life. It pissed him off. Still, he knew Clyde, he knew that he was a very touchy person, full of abandonment issues. Much like himself. Though, with Clyde, it materialized in the opposite fashion.

"I really was busy," Craig added, instinctively reaching for his pendant to fiddle with. He found over the years, he always did it as a nervous habit.

"What, stealing?" Clyde rolled his eyes.

"Actually, I had a dinner with the House of Marsh. I don't like them, but because I saved that necklace that's super important to them they said they owe me. You know, the one I got a ton of money from Shelly for getting? Well, apparently it was a big deal to the whole family, so they said I can 'consider them an ally now'."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Craig continued, "Sure, they're all douchey nobles like all the rest, but I think they can be useful, I mean. Plus they served dinner and I honestly wished you could have come but-"

"So on my first day with the Grand Wizard you disappear without telling me to go out and eat a feast with some nobles?"

Craig shot up and sat up straight on his bed, the pendant falling from his grip against his chest. "I forgot about that."

"Whatever," Clyde retorted. He sounded genuinely offended. He walked over to his own mattress on the other side of the room. Naturally, given how late it was, he had already took off all of his street clothes besides his long shirt to sleep in. He flopped down on his own bed.

"How was it?" Craig offered, not wanting to deal with an offended, upset Clyde.

"Awful," he answered immediately.

An awkward silence grew between the two of them. Craig wasn't sure if he should respond, or leave it at that for the night. Perhaps they were both too touchy, that it would be better for the two of them to sleep this off.

Craig sighed, deciding against his better judgement to speak anyway. "How was it awful?" he asked.

"How do you think?" Clyde sat up, the candlelight in their room illuminating his angry face, "Do you think working for the person who is to blame for the death of my family is a fun? The person who fucks over his entire fucking kingdom? Did you think I would like walking around selling his self-serving trinkets of himself, hounding everyone to buy them? All I can do is wait for the day he gets mad at his low sale's numbers and take it out on me and-"

"I told you that you should leave!"

"What the fuck do you know, Craig?" Clyde had visible tears welling in his eyes from frustration, "You think just because you're getting good at the underworld means you know anything about how Zaron's society works? You work for yourself, you don't get how society itself is run, how actual jobs work. You're the one who thought you could just walk into the city as a serf and be treated like a freeman. You don't know anything about what it's like to be me."

"Well sorry that I was born a glorified slave to some shitty piece of land! Sorry that I don't know what it's like to have a steady job. Sorry that I wasn't born with a literal coin in my hand granting me absolute freedom to be wherever I want," Craig stood up. He didn't like losing his cool, especially at Clyde. The fact that he was getting pissed off at Clyde only made him more pissed.

"For all your hatred of freemen and anyone above you, you seem to forget that your own mom was a noblewoman."

As if he lost control of his legs, he found himself marching over to Clyde.

"I don't want you ever to mention my mother or any of my family ever again," Craig hissed venomously under his breath, his green eyes piercing Clyde's brown like daggers.

"Whatever," Clyde said again. He laid down on his bed and rolled facing the wall away from him.

Craig didn't want to get angrier than he already was-he hated losing himself to emotions. He balled his fists and fought the urge to kick something.

Craig didn't want to be this upset at Clyde. He was his best-his only friend. He knew he was just stressed and worried about his job. The fact he knew so much about Craig was the reason he knew exactly what to say to piss him off or even hurt him.

Slowly, Craig unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. He blew out the candles, took off his clothes down to his shirt and pants and went back to bed. He was exhausted, too exhausted to fight or be mad.

Still, he didn't understand Clyde sometimes.

Clyde was once again already gone before Craig even woke up the next morning. He did hear the door slam as he left, but immediately after he drifted back to sleep for another good hour or two. The fact that he slammed the door as he did meant he was probably still mad. A fact alone that made him not want to get up today. He was already over what happened yesterday, but he knew dealing with Clyde later would be a pain.

Somehow, dealing with Clyde's girlfriend was even worse. It was actually her that made him get out of bed. A loud knock on the door in the late morning.

"Hey Feldspar, you in there?" she called in her immediately recognizable voice.

"No," he said under his breath.

"Hey good, I wanna talk to you," she called. When he didn't immediately respond again, she just pounded on the door even louder.

He could tell she wasn't going anywhere. With an annoyed yawn, he sat up and stretched himself, his shoulders cracking louder than he thought they probably should. With another annoyed, tired sigh he reached for his hat and shoved it on to cover his messy bedhead hair and slowly trudged his way to the door, opening it slowly to not have the light of day blind him.

Bebe Stevens was beautiful, objectively speaking. Too beautiful for someone like Clyde, Craig always thought. She had curly long golden hair that she primarily kept down sans a few intricate braids woven into it. Her father was a knight that had died in battle a number of years ago and due to his rank upon his death her family had a surplus amount of money, even if they couldn't hold a candle to nobility. Still, she wore beautifully intricate gowns that were always stylish, even if not the most expensive and elite. Not that it mattered, she was highly regarded by the city. She was a popular socialite. She was educated. Beautiful.

She was absolutely out of Clyde's league.

To be fair, he was pretty sure the reason they first got together was because she wanted someone to get her nice things. Specifically, nice things from the shop Clyde worked at. Yet somehow, for reasons Craig never understood, even after he left that shop and she no longer seemed to fish for things from his work, they seemed to make their relationship work and really grew to care for one another.

Craig probably never would it. But then, he didn't really get romance in general.

"Feldspar, I'm worried about Clyde," Bebe said, entering their small apartment before Craig even had the chance to invite her in. Not that he was planning on doing so. But if he was planning on inviting her in, she sure did it herself before he had the chance to.

"He told you about his new job?" Craig yawned, following her inside. He flopped himself into a sitting position on his bed.

"I think he's really worried," she said, taking a seat at their table.

"Well he should be," Craig scratched his head under his hat, "He's working for the biggest sociopath in all of Zaron. I heard he fucking murdered all his previous merchants."

"Don't say that," Bebe scolded, "Don't be so flippant about his life."

"Believe it or not, I care a lot about Clyde," he rolled his eyes, "If I genuinely was worried he was going to get killed or whatever, I wouldn't be this calm."

"Well, shouldn't you be worried?"

"Nah."

"And why is that?"

"I dunno," Craig pulled his hands down from his scalp and rubbed his tired eyes, "Someone who has been through what he has isn't gonna die because he dropped a shitty trinket on the Grand Wizard's foot. He might be a huge crybaby hypochondriac but...He's also a survivor. I guess."

"Clyde never talks about his past with me," Bebe replied in a tone that seemed half pouty and half genuinely melancholy as she twirled one of her gold curls around her finger. He noticed a single tear run down her pale cheek.

"I know you probably think I'm bullshitting you," he said, softening his tone slightly, "But it really is better that way."

"People don't get why I'm with him you know," she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, "Especially Wendy. She always says I should leave him. She thinks he uses me and that he's actually with you-"

"That's not true."

"I know that! But that's not the point. The point is, I-I really care about him. But I'm tired of always worrying about him. I'm tired of knowing next to nothing about him!"

"You know I can't tell you, Bebe."

That wasn't the answer she wanted to hear.

Craig sighed. He didn't like dealing with her in general, let alone her being this persistent and emotional. He wasn't good with emotional people. He barely put up with Clyde.

"Though," Craig let out, "If it makes you feel better. I won't let anything happen to him. I promise."

She didn't look at him. She silently stood up and left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

As soon as he heard her footsteps fade, he face planted into his pillow and groaned into it.

"I thought you said you were never coming back here again?" Red laughed, pouring some beer from the wooden keg.

"Just give me my beer," Craig responded.

"So, it's that you really need a drink?" she smiled mischievously, "Something happen?"

"I'll leave," Craig glared at her. The tavern was practically empty, especially given that it was still early morning. Too early for him to be drinking. But he didn't care. He did want his drink.

"Let me guess," Red placed a large beer stein in front of him, "It either has something to do with your roommate's new job with the Grand Wizard or your personal dealings with the House of Marsh. Or both."

"How do you-?"

"I know everything," she winked, turning her attention back to the bar.

"A-Actually, I w-was the one wh-who told her about th-th-that," a voice said. Instinctively, Craig turned his head to see who it was.

It was the lute player from yesterday. He was sitting in a chair a few feet away from him, his lute in his lap. His face had the same mischievous look he flashed him yesterday as well.

"Jimmy!" Red scolded, with a bit of lighthearted humor in her voice, "If you spill my sources I won't let you play here this evening."

"Who are you?" Craig asked. He found himself studying the man closely. He wore the same outfit he had yesterday-a yellow tunic and green cape, complete with a grey hat with a tacky feather coming out of it. He also had the same crutches leaned against his table.

He knew from the moment he saw him something about him seemed up.

"I-I'm Valmer. Jimmy Va-Valmer," he said in a tacky voice, "I-I'm a bard. And a musician. Though m-my biggest pa-pa-passion is comedy."

He seemed a lot stranger than Craig had predicted.

"I'm-"

"You're F-Feldspar," he cut him off, "I heard of you. N-Not to mention that I l-listened in on y-your entire m-meeting."

"I wasn't going to tell you my name," Craig objected.

"L-Like I said, you didn't need to."

"So what's your deal?" Craig asked, "You pretend to be some poor old musician to play nice tunes in the background when you're actually eavesdropping on them?"

"That's a fresh accusation coming from a thief," Red called out from the other side of the bar.

Ignoring Red, Craig continued, "I haven't seen you before. Are you from around here?"

"Nope," he said, putting his lute on the table to reach for his drink, "I'm a b-bard. I travel."

Craig really didn't want to hear his entire life story.

"Jimmy has a really interesting life story," Red smiled, leaning on the bar, "Why don't you tell us, Jimmy?"

"Goddammit," Craig whispered under his breath.

"Y-Y-Ye-Yeah!" Jimmy smiled cockily, "R-Right before I c-c-came to K-Kupa, I was a-actually hanging out with a nice tribe of B-Barbarians."

"Barbarians?" Craig responded, skeptically raising an eyebrow, "You're saying you were with nice Barbarians?"

"Y-Y-Yep."

"Bullshit," Craig turned away from him and back to the bar, taking another large gulp of his drink.

"Why would you say it's bu-bu-bullshit?" Jimmy asked, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

"C'mon dude," Craig rolled his eyes as he used his sleeve to wipe the beer off his upper lip, "Everyone knows that Barbarians are...well, fucking barbaric. They don't act nice, they don't greet outsiders. Their entire life is fighting and killing. They're barely even human."

"S-Says who?" Jimmy smiled, "Have you ever met one? Seen one?"

Craig grimaced. "Please Red, tell me you don't buy into this bullshit."

"Why wouldn't I?" Red shrugged, "I've never met one. Have you Feldspar?"

"Of course not because I'd probably be fucking dead," Craig found his voice getting irritated, "This is fucking ridiculous. This isn't even a discussion. It's common fucking knowledge. I'm not going to argue it."

"You'd find that a l-l-lot of what the K-Kingdom of Kupa K-Keep spouts as 'co-common fucking kno-knowledge' isn't true."

"So what then?" Craig turned back to him, "You're telling me that it's all a lie? That the Barbarians are all super lovey dovey people who hold hands and sing songs?"

"N-Nope," Jimmy casually stretched one of his arms, "They are a w-warrior society. Th-They do value battle. They are c-cautious of outsiders and d-don't take well to i-i-ntruders. But that doesn't mean that once you get to kn-know them they can't be p-perfectly nice people."

"Whatever."

"E-Elves are pr-pr-probably the nicest though."

"That's it," Craig announced as he stood up, pushing his near empty drink aside towards Red, "I've had enough."

"C'mon Craig, I would th-think you of all p-p-people would know better than to tr-trust Kupa," Jimmy laughed.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Get help," Craig scoffed, dropping a handful of coins on his way out to cover his tab.

"Aw don't be rude to my patrons," Red tsked at him jokingly, scooping up his payment and wiping off the section of the bar where he had sat.

"He's gonna get in trouble with the entirety of Kupa if he's not fucking careful," Craig waved his hand flippantly as went towards the exit, "Don't get caught up in it, Red. Not for this asshole."

It was still technically late morning, but after everything that had happened that day, Craig just wanted to go home. He had a couple contracts with people, but nothing he couldn't do tomorrow. He knew some would be easy, but he couldn't bring himself to do them, so he just walked straight to his home without looking back.

The tanner was busy, with various customers all around, meaning he wouldn't have peace and quiet. The old man waved at him, probably wanting to start a conversation or at worst try and guilt him into helping him at his shop, but Craig pretended he didn't notice him.

All he wanted to do was go to sleep in his cheap bed, not having to think about Clyde or Bebe or the Wizard or some delusional bard with fantasy stories. Preferably, the sleep would last for a year or two. Or maybe he could sleep so hard that he could go back in time. Back when life was more strenuous yet...happier. He found himself subconsciously fiddling with his pendant again.

He closed his eyes, but he could still see that bard's cocky smile. He didn't know why he got to him so much. He always knew not to trust bards. They always filled little Tricia's head with fairy tales. About the Stick of Truth that didn't exist, about happy cities in faraway lands where people wanted for nothing, about things Craig had resigned to accepting couldn't possibly be real. Sure, there was magic in the world, but there wasn't nothing magical or exciting about the bleak, unfair, and uncaring world he lived in.

He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep.

He groaned and rolled over to one side. His hat, which he hadn't bothered to take off, slid down over his face so he annoyedly pulled it off and chucked it across the room, hitting the other side. He heard it knock something over, but frankly he wasn't in the mood to care what it was.

Who was that bard anyway to claim that he knew anything about him? Was that part of his game? To claim to be all knowing to make people trust him, buy into him? Like some shitty fraudulent fortune teller's cold reading? He didn't-couldn't know anything about Craig. He didn't even know his real na-

Craig's eyes grew wide as he sat back up on his bed. Suddenly, he felt his entire body grow cold, as if all his blood drained out of him.

The bard had called him Craig.

"No he didn't," Craig audibly whispered to himself, "I'm remembering wrong."

He called him Feldspar. Or he didn't say his name at all. The human memory is a finicky thing, he was just getting paranoid about nothing. There was no way he called him Craig. It would be impossible. There wasn't a person alive besides Clyde who knew his real name, that even could know his real name. It would be impossible for Craig to prove his true identity even if he wanted to.

Maybe he was the one who was finally losing it. He sighed, rubbing his eyes rougher than he should. With a deep breath, he laid back down. It was a struggle, but he forced himself to clear his mind and sleep the day away.

Craig awoke a few hours later to the sound of his door swinging open.

"What are you doing asleep?" Clyde asked. He swung his sack harshly towards his bed but missed, instead loudly hitting the wall besides it and spilling over. He still seemed pissed off. Great.

"Bad day," Craig rubbed his eyes as he continued laying down.

"You had a bad day?"

"Clyde, don't even start," Craig squeezed his eyes shut and rolled back over. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"Don't even start what?"

"Goddammit Clyde," Craig gritted his teeth, sitting up, "Why are you always like this? I-"

Craig gasped. It was only then he saw Clyde's face clearly.

He had a swollen black eye and bruises around his cheek. His lip was torn, blood still dripping down from it. It was clear someone clearly had their way with his face.

Craig jumped up from his bed and guided Clyde to sit down on his bed. He then quickly fetched a wet rag to press against his bleeding lip.

"What the hell happened to you?" Craig asked, pressing the rag against the cut. Clyde flinched like the weak cry baby he was.

"The Grand Wizard decided that he wanted to use me as combat practice for his new knight recruits. Fucking asshole." His voice was clearly strained.

"You know, Bebe's worried about you," Craig found himself letting out, as if he had no self-control over his words, "She came by today. That was annoying."

Clyde's eyes grew even wetter than they had previously been.

"C'mon dude, don't be such a crybaby," Craig joked as he pressed the rag against his mouth once more. His joke didn't help.

"I don't know what I should do about her," Clyde sighed, trying to quickly and nonchalantly wipe his eyes.

"You know I don't care."

"I know," Clyde attempted to smile, but then grimaced in pain as it stressed his cut, "You've always been a heartless, conscienceless asshole."

"That's why you need me."

"I am still pissed at you though."

"That's fine," Craig got up and dropped the bloody rag into the dirty pile of clothes and clothing-far higher than it should be due to both of their unwillingness to do laundry. He then wandered to the kitchen section and quickly grabbed some dried fish they had saved and put them on two plates.

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat," Craig ordered, placing one plate on Clyde's lap.

"Do you think the Wizard will have me executed?"

"No," Craig said bluntly, dropping his own plate on their table and taking a seat.

"Are you sure?" Clyde asked again, hesitantly bringing a bite of the fish to his mouth.

"Yes," Craig said through a full mouth, "But with this, we really do need to discuss our future plans to get out of the city. Out of Kupa. Soon."

"Alright," Clyde sighed.

Craig decided the next morning that he really needed to get out of his slump and get back into the swing of things. He arose earlier than he normally did, although still after Clyde had already departed. He ate a decent breakfast, tried to organize his things he had flown everywhere on his side of their place, and even went to the public bathhouse to clean himself.

The bathhouse was a much better place to distract himself than the tavern, he decided. People liked to awkwardly keep to themselves and pretend no one else was there. He didn't even have to deal with Red's nagging. He especially didn't have to worry about possibly running into that bard again.

To be fair, part of him wanted to run into the bard again to get answers. Sure, a very, very, very small part of him that was vastly outweighed by the majority of him that hoped to never even have to think about him again.

He sighed. He really had been slacking lately from allowing himself to get distracted. He needed to steal a diamond for a merchant-an extremely easy task, and yet it had been days already. His reputation was going to be in ruins if he didn't pick up the slack.

The tub he was in sure felt nice though. The water was actually warm for once, probably thanks to some rich person stopping by-they had to up their budget whenever actual money came. Most of the rich had their own tub in their giant houses, so it was a rare occurrence. He wished he could stay in it forever.

Still, all things must come to an end. That was a truth he had accepted long ago. With another sigh, he pulled himself out and got ready to actually start the day, starting with the diamond theft.

Stealing the diamond was really simple. He was lucky, all he had to do with nonchalantly cut one from the studded scarf of some obsenely rich noblewoman that he noticed walk by. She wouldn't even notice it was missing. He considered stealing the whole thing just to spite her, but quickly decided against it, and instead made his way to the jeweler's shop.

"That took you longer than usual, Feldspar," the jeweler commented as he handed him the diamond. He was an older, skinny man that was mostly bald with the exception of wispy white strands of hair. He was always unpleasant, but a loyal customer regardless.

"I am a busy man," Craig lied, "There's ways to get higher on my priority."

"Or I'll find someone else," the jeweler retorted without missing a beat, analyzing the gem closely.

"Sure," he shrugged, "But could they do a better job than me?"

The jeweler huffed in annoyance, putting down the diamond. It was a very large, very expensive diamond. Better than what he needed to get him because of course, Feldspar the Thief never disappoints.

"Take your money and get out," the jeweler tossed him the small bag containing his payment. Craig quickly looked inside. It was a very good amount, far better than he had even requested upon their agreement. Not as good as Lady Shelley's payment, but definitely the sign of a happy customer, regardless of his demeanor.

"I'll be seeing you then," Craig said as he pulled the bag shut and shoved it into his pocket.

"I said get out."

As Craig left, he realized he didn't know what to do next with his day. He knew he was slacking, but with a payment like that he really didn't need to do anything else. He cleaned up, he took care of himself, he finished a job he already had. He should be proud of himself for doing what he did. Or so he tried to tell himself, as he found himself wandering towards the city square.

He sighed, sitting down at the fountain in the middle of the square. He really didn't like being in such a slump. This wasn't like him. He also didn't want to admit to himself that he was worried or that he was stressed out. That especially wasn't like him. He pulled out a piece of bread he brought from home and idley began to eat it.

"Did you hear that the tavern wench is gonna be executed this afternoon?" Craig heard a townsman say to his friend, standing a few feet away from him.

"You can't be serious?" the other gasped. Craig's interest was piqued as well, wrapping back up his bread and putting it away to get a better listen.

"I am. Apparently she got caught knowingly harboring a spy from the High Elf Kingdom."

"Wait what?" Craig interrupted, not caring that he wasn't a part of the two strangers' conversation.

"Who are you?" one of the two asked, raising an eyebrow out of annoyance.

"What tavern are you talking about?" Craig continued, "Not Red's right? I mean, the one with the girl with the bright red hair and overly intrusive personality?"

There were many taverns in the city. Ordinarily, his mind would never go to Red's. Yet with that odd bard, he felt fear in his gut.

"Seriously who are you butting into our-"

"Yes, that one," the first townsperson interrupted his friend, "Rebecca Skeeter."

Craig's stomach dropped. He felt sick.

"Do you have any idea who the spy was?" Craig asked frantically yet trying to keep his tone even.

"I don't know much, mainly that he was able to get away."

"You heard nothing?" Craig found his voice getting louder than he wanted. He bit his lip to hold himself back.

"I dunno man, just some guy from out of town who was a spy."

"Do better than that."

"Uh," the man thought, "Oh! Apparently he walked with crutches and-"

It was him.

Without bothering to thank the townsperson or listen to him continue, Craig found himself instantly running straight to the tavern. He ran fast, almost as fast as he did that day he ran from his village with Clyde. His mind didn't go back to that, however. All he could think about was the spy. The man at Red's tavern was a spy. The man who was at his meeting with the House of Marsh. The man who told him about how barbarians and elves were good people.

The man he could have sworn used his real name was a spy working for the High Elf Kingdom.

Not to mention, even if he was annoyed by Red much of the time, deep down, he didn't want her executed. Not for some piece of shit bard asshole.

He stopped right in front of the tavern. Or, what was the tavern. It was all boarded up with a large number of armed and fully suited up knights surrounding the perimeters. Taverns got in trouble with the law all the time and executions in general were a pretty common occurrence, especially with a leader like the Grand Wizard. Yet this was different. It was as if they were guarding a building containing the legendary Stick of Truth his sister liked to go on about.

"What the hell is going on?" Craig asked one of the knights desperately. He didn't know what he expected the guard to tell him. He didn't even really know what he himself wanted to know.

The guard didn't respond.

"I said what the hell is going on?"

Still no response. The guard only stood still, as if he were one of the knight statues in the garden. Craig balled his hands into fists.

"Feldspar!" a familiar female voice called from behind him, throwing him off guard. He turned away from the useless knight to see who it was.

Of course. It was Wendy Testaburger. She was not part of the perimeter, but naturally she had to be there too.

"I hope you're here to tell me what the fuck is going on," Craig frowned at her.

"Feldspar, you really don't want to get involved with this." Craig could almost sense some compassion in her voice. She seemed sad. It pissed him off.

"Like hell you know what I want to get involved with."

"Please, Felspar," she begged, "Red was my friend, too."

"Then why are you standing around here?" Craig shoved her, not caring that he would probably get in huge trouble for assaulting a knight. She always pissed him off. Wendy was so loyal to this kingdom that she was going to just let her friend be executed. Knights were always impersonal assholes who only cared about the law and/or their own glory.

Sure, he wasn't mainly here out of caring about Red-he made it his life goal to not make attachments to people who weren't Clyde. Yet, it still hurt a little more than he would like to admit. Not something he'd sob over, but something that sucked a lot. Wendy should be different.

"I'm not here for her," she looked him in the eyes, "I'm here for you."

Craig let go of her, taking a step back. The compassion in her face intensified. He suddenly noticed that her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.

"Me?"

"It's about Clyde," she looked down. That wasn't like her. She was always at attention, always following protocol. Craig's heart started pounding.

"What about Clyde?"

"Even though I hate you and think you're a thieving probably-murderer who will only bring bad things to the kingdom, I still felt like I should tell you. It seemed like the right thing to do."

"What the fuck about Clyde?" Craig demanded. His heart continued to pound hard and loud until he swore she and everyone else in close proximity could hear it beating.

"The Grand Wizard declared him banished from all of space and time."