Work went slowly today. Hope blinked against the morning sun that broke over the towering buildings of Archades, whose merchants provided minimal work for Hope. Usually he found mornings to be the most lucrative, as people appreciated help getting errands run before traffic worsened at noon. Evenings at least provided some wanted white magic for mending or for more recreational purposes at the dens.

Today, however, he only found an old granny that wanted him to sweep out her home on the outskirts of town. She gave him ten gil for it. Unless his memory of other jobs he did somehow slipped out like it tended to do. Except he should have a lot more money if that was the case.

Hope frowned and shifted through the coins in his pocket. It wasn't enough to get into the hospital, but he hoped that he would only need another thousand or so. At least, he hoped so.

Walking across the brick walkway that led across town, Hope noticed a white-haired and dark-skinned man looking around the place with an intense expression. He wore a strange, green robe with ribbons running down the sides, though the fabric was worn and dirtied from what must have been extensive travel.

His dark eyes struck Hope as familiar, but he knew better than to dwell on it so he moved on. Returned to wandering the streets, though not without some strange whimpering from the voice.

"Bad," it whispered. "Stay away from him."

Hope glanced behind him, but the man didn't follow. The air warmed the further he retreated, and he heard the distant rushing of water. "Smoke and mirrors?"

"He's still close." Heartrate picked up. "He's always close."

"Who?"

He cut off when he collided with someone else and crashed to the ground.

"Ah," groaned the other person, a boy about his age with dark hair and high noble's attire. "My sincerest apologies – I was distracted."

Hope blinked stars out of his eyes and pulled himself back to his feet. "Ow – should pay more attention."

The other boy smiled despite a fresh cut on his face. "Lamont." He extended a gloved hand and Hope frowned before he extended his own, dirty and wrapped in cheap cloth.

"Hope."

"I've heard that name before. Where are you from?"

Hope looked around them. "I've never been anywhere but here. You?"

"I've seen a few places-" Lamont straightened his dress shirt- "but Archades will always be my home."

"Your shoes…" Hope pointed to the scraping they sustained. "I hope that wasn't expensive."

Lamont made a pained expression at the sight. "My escort will be angry, but my tailor will be compensated for another pair…. What is it?"

Hope remembered to relax his expression. "You're… not mad?"

"No."

"But you have a tailor."

"And he's quite a nice man, but he doesn't much appreciate his work being damaged. But then, I shan't imagine there are many that do."

Hope reminded himself to breath. "But you're not… it's not an inconvenience?"

"I shouldn't worry about it." Lamont gave a stunning smile and gestured down one street. "Would you have lunch with me?"

"He's luring you in," hissed the voice.

Hope swallowed and tried to think of something to counter him with, but nothing came to mind. All he did doing the last week was completing odd jobs when he could find them and he didn't know that he would run across any more for the day and he was hungry, but-

"If you have no money, I can provide." Lamont started walking.

"Uh." Hope scrambled for something to say. "Sure." He wanted to smack himself the moment it left his mouth.

"Marvelous." Lamont moved toward the trade sect and Hope scrambled to catch up. "I've found myself craving the bread they make by the river."

Hope's tongue turned to lead, and blood rushed from his head. "What have you done?" asked the voice. "What's happening?

"I can't say how long it's been," Lamont said as they passed wealthy shops and noble houses, "since I last went somewhere with a friend for the sake of something other than that of the political situation between Archades and Rabanastre."

Hope stuffed his hands in his pockets and put his head down. He generally tried to avoid this area, since the people didn't take well to having someone not of their stature wandering their streets. He rubbed at his stomach, remembering one incident that went particularly wrong and kept him away for good.

"I understand the importance of the alliance," Lamont continued, "though it can be tiresome to handle."

Hope had no idea what he was talking about, but he nodded with pretend understanding. Lamont paused speaking for a moment to look about them before gesturing east. "I believe it was further this way."

Hope's fingers shook and he darted glances about the well-dressed ladies and gentleman that passed them by with confused expressions.

A man cut Lamont off by grabbing his arm.

And shoving a blade into his back.

And through the front.

Lamont made no noise as the man abandoned the sword and snatched Lamont's satchel.

Then disappeared into the crowd. Hope recognized the green coat and white hair.

Someone screamed nearby, prompting commotion to swell around him. Lamont made a gurgling sound and dragged a hand to the wound.

He reached for where his bag was before gritting his teeth and looking at Hope with twitching eyes.

"Potions?" Lamont asked through his teeth.

Hope moved without thinking. Reached into his own satchel only to find the coins he'd earned. He paused when he remembered he didn't have any.

And channeled Mist.

"Down." Hope had to pull Lamont to his knees before he cast. "Someone help!"

Blood seeped into Lamont's clothes and his face turned white. Hope gripped the hilt of the sword, heart hammering in his chest as Lamont's eyes glazed over in shock. The other boy gasped for breath and Hope realized the blade must have punctured a lung.

He was suffocating.

Hope took one deep breath.

And yanked the sword out before sending it clattering to the side before he unleashed the cure. Voices clamored around him and a crowd gathered.

Blood pooled below Lamont and he looked about him with frenzied eyes. Hope stopped the bleeding through mending the vessels and veins before looking for breaks in the spine or ribs. Inflammation in the cords and…

That slit in the lung.

Hope focused there next. Lamont's face discolored from lack of air.

Seal it, seal it, seal it-

He felt the tiniest snap and Lamont sucked in a deep breath. Hope closed his eyes with relief before refocusing on possible damages to the spine.

"What are you doing to him?" snapped some lady.

"Fixing him, looks like," quipped another.

"Who did this?"

Hope grit his teeth and shut out the voices. Brought down the inflammation, repaired the nicks and inner bruising…

And ran dry.

Hope fell back with a gasp and blinked bleary eyes. He pushed it too far.

Lamont breathed, shallow and uneven, but forced himself into a sitting position and looked to Hope. "You're a white mage?"

Hope squinted his eyes against the blinding sun and pressed a hand to his temples. "Yeah, kinda. Magic should hold, but it'll take a while for your body to adjust to the damage."

"Yes." Lamont rubbed at his side. "A day or two, at least."

Hope hefted himself to his feet. "How – you've done this before?"

"Something like it." Lamont joined him, though not without a grimace. "I should ask how you know to heal stab wounds."

"It's a long story."

Lamont gestured down a turn. "You can tell me on the way back."

Commotion swelled about them. One woman tried to hold Lamont back while some men complained about the blood left behind in the street. Heat rose in his face and he remembered his place – ducked his head to avoid eye contact.

Lamont did his best to set them at ease before guiding Hope away and generating more blue light of white magic that illuminated his broken vest tunic. He kept his posture rigid, but Hope saw the telling twitch in his eye that accompanied healing pains.

"I was hoping to stay away a little longer today," Lamont said. "But I suppose there's no way around it."

"You don't want to go back?"

He shook his head. "Not ideally. But there's not much dignity in wandering about in such a state, is there?"

Hope forced himself to shake his head, even though he was used to wandering that same state when the occasion called for it.

"Very well." Lamont approached a nearby vendor. "Pardon me, but where might I find a imperial transports?"

"Imperial?" repeated the vendor, a squat man with rows of pins and trinkets at his booth. "I suppose if you have the passage, most of them lay sequestered near Nilbasse. Go west until you find a guard and he should tell you."

"My thanks." Lamont bowed and turned to Hope. "Follow me, then. This might take a bit."

When they found the transport, Lamont did indeed present an identification of some kind that got the guard huffing and exclaiming like someone threatened his life before letting them on a car. Hope entered with some caution, though Lamont acted as comfortable as if it were his own. The machine jumped to life and they took off in seconds. "Aren't there other passengers for this?" Hope asked. "Why didn't we wait for them?"

Lamont leaned back against the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. "I asked them to prioritize arrival at the palace, which wouldn't work for other passengers anyway. Most don't go so far."

"The palace?" Hope repeated as they flew over the city. He avoided looking out the window, as it made his stomach churn to be so high. "You live in the palace?"

Lamont nodded stiffly. Hope looked at the place where the wound was, regretting his outburst. He should have tried harder to clean out the area first. "What kind of pain is it?"

Lamont opened one eye to look at him, face sheening with sweat. "Sharp, as is normal for a cut like this. Worry not – I'll be better within a few days."

"Have you been stabbed before?"

"Ahem." Lamont looked genuinely uncomfortable at that. "Yes. Once or twice."

When the car touched down in a large, ornate garage, Lamont led Hope out the other side of the car and into a nearby hall. The floor of the garage was vast, but the car was close enough to an exit that it took moments to reach it.

Hope glanced behind them to see the rest of Archades. "Is this the palace?"

"Not quite." Lamont followed the hall out into another large room full of officers. Lamont only had to pull out his identification again and keep Hope close and no one gave a second thought.

"Looks like we've been had," whispered the voice. "He's manipulated all these people into thinking he's a noble, it seems."

Hope struggled to keep his breathing level as they moved deeper into the building.

"Now we enter the palace." Lamont swiped his card against a padlock. It chimed green and let them in. "It may not look the part, but we don't much use the grand doors anymore."

The halls they passed through here, though well-lit, carried little ornamentation outside of a certain elegance to the trim of carven wood and delicate designs. The colors were deep purples and browns, and doors filled the walls.

"Are we…?"

"Underneath, yes." Lamont walked confidently, head held high and back straight. Hope struggled to keep himself upright as they moved though, ready for the moment when someone would inevitably walk in and declare them intruders.

Maybe the imperial prison would keep him warm through the winter.

They took an elevator like the one Hope used in the recruiter's office, and that propelled them up to level five. Lamont didn't say why he went for that floor.

"You live here," Hope said.

"Yes."

"On the fifth floor?"

Lamont shook his head. "No. But that's where I can find Gabranth and sue for your position in the healing wing."

"Wait, what?"

The elevator dinged, and the doors hissed open to reveal an open floor with a large desk in the center and two sets of stairs flanking it from behind. Hope held a breath as Lamont strode right up to one of the receptionists and set his card on the desk.

"I need to speak with Gabranth," he said, causing the receptionist – a pretty girl with honey-colored hair – to leap to her feet and almost knock her chair over.

"Your Majesty!"

"Not so loud, if you would."

Hope lost feeling in his fingers as realization dawned. Guards swarmed them, with one judge magister sweeping in with a billowing cloak.

Lamont responded to that one first. "I'm sorry, Gabranth. I needed some air."

"You have air on your balcony," said the judge with a deep and muffled voice before turning his attention to Hope. "Another one, Majesty?"

"Wait." Lamont held up a hand and the people all stilled as one. Even the judge bowed his head. "This one saved my life. Were it not for him, I would not draw breath and I cannot abide with ignoring such generosity."

The world tilted to Hope's view.

"I want him positioned on my personal healing staff. Give him the best training and treatment we have and prepare him to transfer by the end of the month."

No one spoke.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Majesty."

Hope wobbled on his feet, one hand finding Lamont's shoulder. Earned a concerned glance. "Are you quite alright?"

Hope only managed to shake his head before the world flipped on its side.

"Bring him home for me, Judge Magister."