"What's the city like?" Tricia asked their mother as she dropped the pieces of wood she and Craig had collected near the fire pit in the center of their house.
"Which one?" she asked her daughter back, with a light laugh as she tossed in one of the larger sticks into the fire.
"You know," the little girl asked, "Kupa's city! Our capital! A merchant that said the entire city is surrounded by the King's house! One building! Is it true?"
She laughed, reaching for a spoon to stir the pottage in the pot above the fire. "It is. But it's not like our little houses. It's more like multiple towers connected by walls surrounding the city, the largest conjoined towers housing the royal family itself."
"Why would they do that?" Tricia picked a small stick and threw it into the fire.
"Protection," she explained as she carefully slaved away on the food, "Cities and castles generally have large walls protecting them to help keep bad people out. It helps people feel safe."
"Why don't we have a wall then?" she asked.
Their mother froze for a moment, thrown off by the question. Another moment later, she continued stirring the pot, ignoring the question completely.
Living in the city for just a few years shy of a decade, he saw the walls of the castle almost every day. He saw knights stand at the top, armed with cannons and bow and arrows, ready to strike down anyone who dared try and impose upon the city. He knew it was also protected by a mote, full up of ghastly aquatic creatures that were said to eat a person's limbs right off.
His mother was wrong, though. None of this made him feel safe. It only ever made him feel trapped. Growing up, he knew serfs were oppressed, unable to leave the village from which they were legally tied. However, it's not like the vast majority people in the city were generally able to afford to leave this awful place, either. As it turned out, everywhere in this god awful kingdom was blatantly unjust to those who were not born with privilege. He longed for the day he would be able to leave the entire awful kingdom without looking back. He never thought the day would come because of a mission like this, however.
When he first heard it from the Grand Wizard, his gut instinct was to think a joke was being played on him.
"The Stick of Truth?" he had managed, "As in, the Stick of Truth from legends?"
"No the other Stick of Truth," the Wizard glared at him, his voice very deadpan yet obviously sarcastic.
"I thought it was just a myth." Craig knew from the past few days it was real, but based on years of habit his gut reaction as to deny it. It still felt like it couldn't actually be real.
"Well yeah," the Wizard shrugged, "We can't exactly have every ordinary nobody knowing it's out there. Then everyone would be after it. It's better to let people think it's some legend."
"So you lie to people."
"Come on," he rolled his eyes, "Do you really think it would be good for every random person to try and get it? You don't want it getting into the wrong hands, now do you? It's better to let the important people like me handle it."
"Then how did you lose it?"
"It wasn't my fault," the Grand Wizard furrowed his eyebrows and turned slightly red at the question, "When the fat ugly High Elf Queen decided to declare war on our Kingdom, I figured she would go looking for the stick in the city, so I decided to hide it in Heatherworth. How was I to know we had a mole in our ranks that informed her I hid it in one of our podunk villages, leading her to try and burn them all down until she found it? Elves were supposed to be all about 'Protecting the innocent' or something."
Craig's heart skipped a beat and his face grew cold as if all of the blood had rushed out of it. So that's why his village was destroyed. The elves thought that it might be housing the Stick of Truth.
He couldn't really blame the Wizard for this, as much as he would like to. The city was also in danger from potentially housing the stick, and the Wizard obviously didn't think his agricultural villages would be harmed. He didn't even put Sundorham in direct danger-they were just a mistaken casualty. The High Elf Kingdom sacrificed them remorselessly in their attempts at finding a needle in a haystack.
Even if they attacked them for the sake of trying to find the stick, there was no need to burn the village down. There was no need to slaughter everyone, leaving not even a single child left alive. They didn't need to be so terribly cruel.
"Why do you trust me?" Craig managed to finally let out, his voice more sullen than he would have liked. He couldn't help it. No matter how much time had passed, the wounds always felt fresh.
"I can only speak for myself, but it's not that I trust you as a person. It's that I trust that you would do anything for a friend," Wendy piped in, "You're a resourceful thief that quite a reputation for getting things done, even if until now it was only for the wrong reasons. I also hear that you're outspoken about hating elves, so I don't believe you would consider betraying us to them." Craig straightened up when she brought up the elves. He also knew the statement about "a friend" had double meaning. Wendy was good friends with Red, and Craig had helped Bebe try to save her.
"Well," Craig thought for a moment, "How do you both know I wouldn't just run off with the stick? I could use it to free Clyde myself, couldn't I? I still don't get what you gain by sending me. Why not go yourself?"
"Well, that's easy, stupid," the Wizard guffawed, "Only people who are capable of magic can use it. A silly little street criminal like you obviously aren't capable of wielding it Plus, sending knights would be too obvious a declaration of war." Craig's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Also, I happened to vouch for you as well," a voice from behind him called out. Craig looked behind him. It was Lord Marsh.
"Yeah, yeah," the Wizard shrugged again, this time in an overdramatic, dismissive way, "He happened to say I should spare your life and put you to use instead. He seems to really like you for some reason. Wendy, too. I don't get what it is about you."
Craig's eyes widened. He wasn't sure how much he trusted Lord Marsh, especially after he proved to know things about his mother.
Wendy grew mad, "I told you I don't-"
"Oh shove it," the Wizard rolled his eyes.
"Feldspar," Lord Marsh looked at him seriously, "This is an extremely important mission. We're putting a lot of faith in you."
Craig looked down at his lap. His mother's pendant underneath his shirt felt heavy against his chest.
"So what's your answer?" the Wizard asked impatiently.
"I'll do it."
Craig was allowed some time to go back to his place to pick up some of his things. Wendy accompanied him for security reasons and to make sure he didn't run off, of course. Thankfully, she waited outside his front door, allowing him to pack in peace, not having to deal with her unsettling presence.
The place had been ransacked, of course. It was only natural, given that he tried to assassinate the Wizard and all. They probably found some stolen goods, but he was already known as a thief. There wasn't anything to incriminate him in terms of identity or having some ulterior motive.
He really didn't have that much to pack. His original clothes and weapons were already returned to him, and he didn't want to carry any more. Mainly just supplies that he would need to survive, like a canteen, rope, and so forth. He mainly just wanted an excuse to return to this place one more time.
As he turned to leave, something green got caught in the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned around. It was that silly green hat that Clyde had gotten for him. It was on the floor, peaking out from under a blanket that had also been tossed to the ground.
He really didn't need that hat. He wasn't going to ever wear it. It would just be a waste of space. He should just go already.
Craig groaned at himself. He grabbed the hat, shoving it into the satchel annoyedly. He hated how sentimental he could be sometimes.
"Ready to go?" Wendy asked him as he finally exited.
"Yeah," he answered as he walked down the steps.
Before he was to go on the mission, he was first going to go through some basic training. He thought it was dumb and pointless, but he decided to comply without a fight. He figured that if he pushed his luck too hard, he might end up back in the dungeon and on death row afterall.
He was given a place to stay for the time being, not allowed to stay at his own home. These chambers were far better than the dungeon, but he was still for all intents and purposes locked in. Just, this time, in a spare tower room. It almost felt livable, if he could forget the fully armed knights that guarded it. He wasn't quite sure how long he was going to be there. Wendy would only answer with a curt "As long as it takes." It was annoying, but he knew pressing someone like her would get him nowhere.
He placed the few things he brought with him on the bed. It was a nicer bed than he owned, but still quite hard and a far cry from one belonging to nobility. He sighed and flopped himself on the bed. He figured that after everything, he deserved a rest.
"Feldspar," a servant boy called at his doorway, interrupting his thoughts. He was a small thing, probably in his early teens at the oldest. By his clothing, Craig could also tell from his clothing that he was a very lowly servant. Typical of nobility to exploit impoverished kids for work. It make him sick.
"What is it?" he asked, trying to hide how annoyed and tired he was with his potential rest being interrupted to the kid.
"Dame Wendy Testaburger is summoning you," he said as if he were reading from a script.
"For what?" he asked, annoyance more clearly in his voice. He figured the kid knew it wasn't towards him personally.
"Just follow me please, sir."
"How good are you at combat?" Wendy asked when they arrived. They stood in the middle of a knight training ground, herself fully armored. They didn't have the ground to themselves, other knights around them were also practicing combat.
"I don't know," he shrugged, "Probably not the worst, but also not the best or anything."
"Alright then," she raised an arm to signal one of her knights. It was a young man about his age wearing only soft armor. "Spar him."
"Aren't you gonna give me-"
"No. Use what you will have with you on your mission," she cut him off coldly.
Craig sighed, pulling out the blade he stole from the knight. He was thankful that it too was returned to him-it was really better than any dull blade he ever owned. Of course, even if he could get one on the knight, he wasn't going to try and cut him open for real, of course.
The knight looked at him with a mischievous grin as he raised his longsword. He had a certain cockiness to him that Craig automatically hated.
"Three...two...one...start," Wendy called out.
Immediately, the knight lunged for him, aiming straight for his gut without any hesitation. Craig gasped, but managed to summersalt past him to the right. Not having time to catch his breath, Craig quickly stood up. Sweat had already started to pull on his forehead. This crazy bastard was actually attacking him for the kill.
The knight grinned back at him even more wickedly than before. Craig clutched his blade tightly. He really wasn't the best at combat, he always did things far more through stealth. Yet, he didn't go this far and through this much shit to die to some punk ass knight.
Given that the knight was stronger and more experienced, he decided to wait for him to take the first move. Sure enough, he eventually charged for him once more, Craig this time ducking and rolling through the opposite side, trying to stab him with his knife in the process. Unfortunately, it barely nicked him.
That mild cut absolutely infuriated the knight, however. Craig rolled his eyes. One of those, he reckoned. All the better, really. Someone who fought in blind rage like that would be far easier to outsmart.
He charged for him several more times, but Craig managed to outmaneuver him each time, even getting a few more cuts in. The knight stopped making calculated thrusts, and instead began to charge and charge with his sword at him. Despite this, his moves became more and more predictable and easier for him to dodge.
Finally, after Craig got enough distance the knight decided to charge, swinging for his legs. His bent down position made Craig smile. An opening. As he approached him, Craig quickly whipped his cape over and threw it over the knights head. Quickly, he jumped on the knight's back and pulled his cape, strangling him. The knight fell over, Craig straddling his back. To cement his victory he brought his blade to the knight's neck above the fabric.
"Enough!" Wendy called out. Craig shrugged, dropping the blade and getting off of him. The knight coughed but refused to look at him, clearly humiliated.
"Was that alright?" Craig asked, finding a smirk growing on his face. He did far better than he thought he would. Maybe he wasn't so bad at combat afterall.
"Your technique is awful," was all she answered with.
He was also briefed more specifically on the mission.
"Obviously, you're going to have to get into the kingdom and be welcomed by them to be able to get far enough to steal the stick," Lord Marsh explained.
"Don't they hate all humans, though?" Craig asked, "I don't get how we're gonna fool them with that."
"They hate some more than others. There are actually some humans that live among them, probably like that spy you met," he responded, "Though yes, they hate the Kingdom of Kupa the most. However, the young new King is more inclined to seek peace between his kingdom and the rest of Zaron, perhaps even to Kupa."
"Perhaps?" he raised an eyebrow.
"That's really the best option we have right now," he shrugged.
"So what exactly?" Craig lounged back in his seat, "You're planning to send me as some diplomat of peace to the High Elf Kingdom and then what? Have me slip the stick from right under their nose?"
"Basically, yes."
"And if they aren't down for the peace business?"
"Well, we did say that this is a very dangerous mission, didn't we?"
As harrowing and exhausting as physical training with Wendy was and as annoying as the briefings were, he found it far better than certain other things. Specifically, the fact that it was deemed necessary for him to learn about elven culture.
The idea of learning about those filth sickened him. Worst of all was having to learn basics of the language.
"So you see, 'How are you?' in their language is literally 'Good you?'" the teacher explained. He was a nerdy young man with a lisp and greasy hair who had some odd passion for elves for some reason.
"Sure," Craig said, leaning back in his chair, looking at the ceiling.
"So in High Elven they say 'Luh lai va?' The 'va' denotes a question. They actually have a word for question marks. Cool huh?"
"Not really," he answered dully.
"W-Well, anyway," his impromptu teacher continued anyway, "You gotta be careful. In the Drow Elf dialect, instead of 'va' they use 'ta'. Their dialect is a lot rougher sounding, almost like Barbarian. You don't wanna use the wrong dialect to the High Elves, they'll get really offended. I'd say don't use the High Elf dialect towards Drow Elves, but you're probably not going to come across them. So just don't confuse the 'va' and 'ta' okay?"
"I would have never confused that if you hadn't just told me it was a thing."
"How much more can you possibly brief me?" Craig asked, resting his elbows on the table, feeling as if he were about to fall asleep from absolute boredom, "Also if I have to learn one more phrase of Elvish or how I'm supposed to properly blow my nose in front of the High Elf King I'm going to fucking lose it."
"Today is the last day, actually," Lord Marsh told him, "I was actually just going to tell you that the Wizard has decided that we're going to send you out tomorrow."
"I see," Craig said, straightening up.
"My wife and I wanted to invite you for dinner tonight for your last night, but the Wizard wouldn't allow it."
"Why are you so nice to me?" Craig asked, "What do you get out of helping me?"
"I want to help you," he insisted, a slight twinge of irritation in his voice.
"Maybe so," Craig crossed his arms, "But that can't be the only reason. Helping me for returning the necklace might get me a pat on the back or help if I got caught trying to steal something, but no one would go this far after I tried to kill the Wizard no matter how priceless or sentimental the pearls are. There has to be something else."
"I want you to find my son."
Craig blinked. He knew the Marsh boy was dead. There were accounts of his body being found. His wife always scolded him, saying to give it up. He had quite a reputation for, despite being such a reliable figurehead in the kingdom, having such an unshakable issue with denial.
To be frank, Craig didn't care much about the whole thing. He didn't trust the Marshes, he didn't like not knowing how much they knew about his identity. He didn't like any of it. Still, he helped him live and put him on a path where he could rescue Clyde.
"I'll try," was all he responded with.
"Get up," Wendy ordered him early the next morning. Craig rubbed his eyes with a yawn, but complied. "Get your things," she continued as he stretched, "You're leaving today." Craig let his arms flop to his side. He knew this, Lord Marsh had told him. Still, it was an odd feeling.
He quickly got dressed and shoved his things into his satchel and into his pockets. He didn't have much, so it didn't take him very long to get ready and meet Wendy outside his room where she waited.
She took him down the steps of the tower and to the usual place where he ate breakfast. To his surprise, however, this time the Grand Wizard was also awaiting him, Butters standing at his side as per usual. After a moment, he decided it made enough sense. He probably had last minute things he wanted to tell him.
The breakfast had usually been toast and gruel, but today it was more of a feast. Bacon, eggs, ham, a baguette, and freshly squeezed juice. He wouldn't be surprised if it had less to do with being a send off and more to do with the fact that the Wizard was eating it as well.
"So today's the day," the Wizard said as he was shoveling his face with food, "Do you think you're ready enough to not fuck it up?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," he shrugged, tearing off a piece of bread.
"Remember, as soon as you steal the stick, you contact me immediately and meet me in the meeting spot. You have no magic, so it's worthless to you, and if I find any hesitation I will kill your friend before the next user would have any chance to rescue him."
"Not that I was planning on it, but the Stick can't just resurrect people?" Craig said as he swallowed, "Seems like it's lacking something major, if it can't do that."
"It can. You can resurrect someone, so to speak," he grinned an undeniably evil grin, "But as soon as you see their new form, you'll wish they hadn't been." Craig frowned. He wondered if that's what had happened to the princess. He'd rather not think about it while he was eating.
"How am I supposed to contact you anyway?" he decided to change the subject instead.
"Glad you reminded me," he said through a full mouth. He reached into his pocket and tossed over a dull golden brooch. It wasn't intricate or meant to be decorative, it was more of a solid gold spherical shape that he could attach to his clothing. Craig examined it closely. It seemed to truly be solid gold, probably worth a fortune. Suddenly, it went from a dull, almost brown color to a bright, shiny yellow. He almost dropped it in surprise.
"I have it enchanted so it'll glow if I wanna speak to you," he explained, "It should respond to your voice and understand your intent if you speak into it."
"Are you sure it's not to spy on me?" he looked at it more intently. It was a magical device to both connect to and keep track of him, very similar to that of the stone in Butter's headband. "How do I know it can't hear me all the time?"
"Do you really think I'm going to waste my magic to listen to you stomping away in the forest all the time? Trust me, I have it set so I'll only have to hear your nasally voice when you want me to."
"That's fair," he decided, "But what if I need to contact you?"
"You should just be able to speak into it. I have it set so I'll get a request," he said, "But don't waste my time with nonsense. Only use it if you absolutely need me. Any other questions?"
"Nope," Craig responded, clasping it to where his cape was tied around his neck. If anything, it made a good clasp for that.
"Then go on your way already," the Wizard stood up, wiping crumbs on his sleeve, "And even if you die, please do so without embarrassing me."
Nearly ten years he had spent in this city. Ten years of the overpowering walls, making him perpetually feel more trapped than protected. Years of living in a crummy apartment, with only Clyde to keep him company. Years of seeing undeserving people executed horrifically in the town square. Years of seeing children of the poor being worked to the bone. Years of filthy living conditions for the poor, while the rich adorned themselves with all the finest things in Zaron. Adorning themselves with gems that were worth as much as would be able to feed a starving child for a year.
He hated this place. He absolutely hated it. He wanted nothing more than to finally be rid of it.
Still, as he approached the front gate with nothing more than a small amount of things he could reasonably carry, he found himself hesitating. It was odd for him to finally be leaving this place he begrudgingly called home. He wasn't going to say he was going to miss it, but there were still some good memories there. Memories of him and Clyde mostly, but memories nonetheless.
He hadn't allowed himself to think about Clyde while he focused on training. It hurt him too much. Not to mention, the conflicted feelings of the fact that Kupa Keep where who put Clyde in this situation in the first place wouldn't have exactly helped his resolve to train under them.
"I'm going to help you, Clyde," he said, "No matter what."
With that, he approached the gatekeeper with his pass to leave the city. The gatekeeper glanced at it for a moment and then went to lower the gate.
Without looking back, Craig exited.