The night was cold, but that didn't worry Julius. He was wearing his warmest coat, a thick red leather jacket lined with fur. It had been a birthday gift from russet. The thought of his brother made his heart ache, he would be saddened to learn that he was gone, but there was nothing for him here.
The Knife seemed to weigh a ton, it was a carving knife from the kitchen, not suited for anything more than slicing meat for a Sunday roast. Yet it was likely he would face dangers long before he found a real weapon, so it would have to do. He clutched it to his chest, as if fearing some unearthly force would snatch it from him.
His eyes darted across the dark street, seeing Grimm in every shadow, but there couldn't be any Grimm. This was the heart of the city, no Grimm could penetrate this deep, yet a voice in his mind reminded him that there was a chance for lightning to strike the same tree six times consecutively, no matter how small the chance, the fact that there was a chance meant anything was possible.
Including there being Grimm in the heart of the city.
Julius ran.
Father was a deep sleeper he had thought, there's no way he would realise you were gone until the morning. He had forgotten of course that his father had a habit of taking midnight walks through the halls, he had only stayed up long enough to hear him a few times and as such it had slipped his mind. But now there was something else here, he had heard the sound, a sound like a record played in reverse, unsettling and alien. It was quick, almost too quick to hear, a sharp pulse that drew ever closer.
He slowed to a stop, there was no use in running now, this wasn't some shadowy half reality this was something living and breathing, and if it lives then it can be killed, he turned back and settled into a fighting stance, the knife by his right leg, his left arm raised slightly, and his chin down to protect his throat. He had learnt it from the internet, he was likely doing a thousand things wrong, but it was all he had.
"Cant die yet, I've got stuff to do" he half chuckled at his little catchphrase. Never before had it rung so true. The tensions seemed to ease slightly, and he took a moment to survey his surroundings, the street itself was empty, but the alehouses where filled with raucous cheers and drunken revelry, the light shining dully through the frosted glass wrapped the street in a warm glow. He must have passed through half the city by now, little good it had done.
The sound came again, but this time it was followed by the sound of hobnailed boots on stone. Julius tensed, crouching into the stance, gripping the knife's wooden handle tightly. Then a figure emerged from the shadows.
Dressed in green robes, one would expect him to be a man of the faith, but the iron mask said otherwise, two bloodshot eyes peeking from beneath the skullcap. "Yer a quick one, yer father warned me 'bout that" his head tilted as he examined the knife, "such confidence from a businessman's spawn, ye think that trinket could hurt me, eh?"
He warped forward, one gloved hand catching him around the throat, the knife falling from his hand as he was lifted by the neck. "Im sure yer father won't mind a few cuts an' bruises". Julius caught a face full of his rotten breath as he laughed.
"OI, WHAT IN THE FLAMING HECK ARE YOU DOING TO THAT KID?!
The man tossed him to the ground, turning to the drunkard as he stumbled towards them, a beer bottle in one hand and a crumpled slouch hat in the other, he seemed oblivious to the danger, or the serrated blade in the mans hand.
"Leave, this ain't none of yer business",
"Yer beatin' on a kid, i think this is my bloody business ya crook."
"And how are you gonna do anything about it, you drunken bastard"
"We can take ye on"
"We? All i see is one drunk man who-"
"TWO DRUNK MEN"
They both turned as another drunk stumbled from another tavern, a hulking man with a thick beard and an eyepatch, lugging a massive clay jug from which he took hearty swigs, the top of a swords hilt peeked from behind one thick shoulder.
"SCOTCH!" The first drunk cheered
Scotch grinned "gettin' in ta other people business again Oz?"
"Well, 'e was strangling the kid so-"
"What?!" scotch let out a disgusted groan, "you get off on choking kids or summet?
The man's eyes widened, "what? No! Of course not, i-"
There was a crash as a tavern window shattered, a grubby man struggled to his feet and let out a roar.
"WASALDISRUMBLINBOUT?!"
"Alright pike? We're re gonna beat this guy up"
Pike looked from the man to them, then he darted forward, seized the man by his robes and head butted him. The man almost regained his composure, but a jug shattered over his head and he collapsed, scotch letting out a bellowing laugh.
Oz stooped to help Julius up, seemingly sobered, "can ye run mate?"
Julius was confused, with the other two beating the living daylights out of the man it was rather unlikely he would give chase, his confusion must have showed as the drunk chuckled, "won't be too long 'till the droog remembers he can teleport"
Wordlessly, they ran.
Oz may have been drunk, but he ran fast, faster than Julius could've ever hoped to, a life in luxury had not helped his physique, and though he has spent the last few months trying to lose weight in preparation. He was soon exhausted, his throat raw and his legs burning. Luckily the drunks adrenaline seemed to be wearing off, as he suddenly stumbled and fell, skidding across the cobbles with a grunt. Julius couldn't help but chuckle at his condition, but only then, when the blood had stopped pulsing through his head, did he hear the robed man's growl.
He spun with a shout, fists swinging, only to stumble as they passed through empty space, the man still half a street behind them.
His green robes had been stained brown, a mix of liquor and blood, and his mask had been ripped off, blood flowed thick from his ruined nose, clotting in a heavy brown mustache. One arm hung limp, but in the other he held a crossbow, it was nothing like the heavy wooden crossbows used by city guards, it was small and metallic, the bow recurving slightly. With a snarl he fired, but the bolt missed, lodging in the wall of a nearby house. The man let out an exasperated groan as he attempted to reload with one hand, but he was rather luckless in the endeavour. Julius knew he should have ran for cover, but to see his assailant in such a state, the same man who had pondered over harming him simply for his own enjoyment now concussed and cursing as he tried to reload a crossbow with his one unbroken arm. It was almost funny.
With an agitated cry he tossed the crossbow to the ground and drew the serrated knife once more, half-teleporting half-stumbling towards him. Oz grabbed Julius shoulder, pulling him back as he juggled two rocks in his other hand, with a flick of his wrist he sent them both flying towards the man. Though one flew wide, the other hit him square in the face, causing him to fall back onto his ass. He let out a dull groan, before reach-The pillar hit the ground with a crash, the marble shattering, the man lost beneath the debris.
Oz grinned, "Bullseye"
He turned from the wreck and began to walk away, glowing with pride, then he tripped over his own legs and fell flat in his face.
"Somewhere here"
Julius looked to where the drunk had pointed, a ruined stable, such a sight was not unusual in this part of the city, they had once been world renowned for their warhorses, but Atlas and its dust powered vehicles had made them redundant and the whole equine sector had been left to rot.
He stepped cautiously into the ruined stable, Oz slung over his shoulder. At first it seemed to be no different from any other of the decrepit buildings, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark he noticed a scattering of empty cans and the ashes of a fire, then he saw the dark mass beside it and his breath caught, was it another cutthroat sent to capture him? Or maybe a dangerous fugitive? Or even a Grimm? Oz was not as easily cowed, he shoved off Julius shoulder and staggered towards the mass, before giving it a savage kick.
In an instant he was against the wall, a plated fist clenched his shirt and the tip of a lance grazed his throat. Emboldened by liquor, he laughed, "I interrupt yer beauty sleep or something, frog?"
The only reply was the breath rattling from the full faced helmet.
Oz's smile quavered, "yer gonna hit me now aren't ya?"
The knight, it looked like a knight anyway, just like the ones from all the stories, shining armour and all, flipped the lance and cracked the heavy pommel over his head.
Oz let out a yowl of pain, "limey tart!" that earned him another strike, after that he had the bright idea to stay silent.
The knight glared (?) at the drunk once more, then, seemingly satisfied, drive the lance into the ground and turned to Julius.
"You are not one ours"
"Uh, well, I..."
"Zat was not a question, scotch iz taller, pike iz dirtier, and paddy would 'ave talked my ear off by now"
Julius didn't know what to say, so far he had been threatened by a cutthroat, saved by a trio of drunkards who subsequently crushed the cutthroat with a thousand year old pillar, and now he was talking to knight in an abandoned stable, he suddenly felt the need to pinch himself to check if he had accidentally fallen asleep and was still back in his bedroom.
"You're a runaway"
The voice was soft, high pitched, nothing like what he had expected from the knight, to him all knights had gravelly voices and swords, not lances and strange voices with stranger accents.
"Not speaking?"
He looked at the knight again, really looked, the armour was formless, the wearer hidden beneath layers of steel, yet there was always ways to understand people, or at least understand what they are, by how they carried themselves, how they moved, spoke, how they stood, or their reactions. Julius had never been too good at reading people, but he was giving it his best shot. The knight stood with one fist resting against their hip, one leg slightly bent. The other hand was strange, half curled, the ring finger twitched rapidly, the nerves must be damaged.
"Oz, why iz he staring at me like zhat? Did I kill iz mozer or something?"
"Eh, I'm sure he's just been through a lot"
"I'm guessing you will want to take 'im to tea back at ze base?"
"Not like he's got anywhere else to go"
The knight sighed, before clenching their twitching hand.
From the dirt a mist rose, and in the mist where shapes, blunt and blurry forms of strange creatures and fearsome beasts, then the mist began to spin, slowly first, like a carousel at a carnival, then faster. Fast enough that the mist blurred into a perfect grey disk.
Without a word the knight seized Oz and tossed him through, he slid into the mist silently, as if swallowed by it.
Before he could speak, before he could make an excuse and leave the strange duo and their creepy half sentient mist, before he could run off into the dark and hide in some other less evil looking stable, the knight shoved him through.
Oz groaned, clutching his head. Julius' ached all over. On the other side of the portal had been nothing but air, the knight had set the portal to exit at the top of a ridge, and they had both tumbled down it. Julius cursed himself for following Oz, he could have dropped him off outside the stable and have been half way to mistral before the town was alerted. Now he was face down in the dirt, and there was something coming, clanking with each step. The footsteps stopped, and Julius waited, expecting the person to talk, ask him why he was here, or who he was, maybe this was the tea guy that the knight had mentioned?
"GRAU, YOU MISERABLE SOCIAOPATH, WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT KILLING INTRUDERS?"
"Zat it waz fun?"
"DAMN STRAIGHT, BUT THE WHINY LEAF DRINKER WANTS HIM ALIVE"
"I do not answer to Mercians"
"NO, BUT YOU ANSWER TO ME, NOW STAND DOWN SOLDIER"
The softer voice sighed, "Yes sir"
Someone seized him by the collar and hoisted him up. Lifting him up to glare at him with wild blue eyes, half hidden under a thick mass of blonde hair. Dropping him on his feet, the soldier stepped back to inspect him, and he her. She was dressed in military fatigues, almost smartly dressed, if not for her wild hair, heavy locks almost reaching her waist, a broad fringe flopped over her eyes, it was a miracle she could see where she was going. She gave a snort of amusement, before turning to Oz, who still lay on the dirt, groaning. She smirked and muttered something under her breath, did she call him a hippie?
"GRAU, PUT THAT CREEPY FUCKING DROID OF YOURS TO SOME USE AND CARRY THE DRUNK"
Julius turned to look at Grau, he was standing stock still, clad in fully in steel, a large spear raised in both hands, as if to stab at the ground. Right where Julius had been moments before. Then a quiet voice came from behind the behemoth.
"ze Warrior iz for fighting, not for carrying drunkards"
Grau stepped out from behind his creation, he was short and thin, what some people would refer to as a weed. Someone more interested in the strength of their mind over the strength of their body. Small grey eyes peeked from behind horn-rimmed glasses. He was immaculately dressed in a grey suit, and his grey hair, or at least what was left of it, was slicked back. He glanced at Julius, he seemed indifferent to him, though he had been drawn for a killing blow just moments before. Out and in, he was grey. Then he glared at the soldier, but almost immediately broke under her own half veiled stare. The warrior slid the spear onto its back and stooped to pick up the drunk, who protested feebly.
"C'mon then kid, let's take you to our leader." She chuckled, though to Julius everything she said sounded like a threat, regardless of her humours.
The amazing base Oz had droned on about during their travels across the town was not very impressive. In all honesty, Julius had never seen an encampment of any kind as badly organised as this one. The tents were half assembled, empty cans and packages littered the muddy ground, and unwashed pots and pans lay by the dying bonfire. The only exception to this rule were two immaculate tents, one red and white, the other blue and yellow. By the entrance of the red and white tent was a small fire, a neat ring of stones with an immaculate cone of firewood crackling at its heart. Above the fire hung a cast iron pot, tended by, strangely enough, a man in a Top hat.
He left them standing for a moment, slowly stirring the pot, he leant forward and inhaled deeply, before giving a satisfied sigh. Finally he looked up, bright blue eyes meeting Julius' brown. A warm smile spread across his face, and he gestured to an empty folding chair.
"Take a seat, get the weight off your feet." His voice had a rich lilt to it, a seductive curl that made you hang from his every word. Julius immediately felt he could trust him, surely someone so friendly could not be dangerous. He nodded in agreement and slumped into the chair, twisting he head slightly to look over to the man.
"I must say, I'm rather impressed. Surviving an encounter with Blinker is almost unheard of, I know of course he meant to return you alive, but escaping him is much harder, so either way it's a rather superb effort."
How did he know what had happened in the town? Julius was too tired for mind games, he couldn't be bothered to guess.
The man (was this tea? He was making tea in that pot of his) did not leave him questioning. He hooked Oz's slouch hatch on the tip of one of his polished dress shoes and flicked it up, deftly catching it in his free hand, all the while he stirred the pot. From the brim of the hat he pulled small black box, a listening device. His gave a proud smirk, "there's always a way to make use of chaos, drunks are brilliant places to hide bugs, no-one expects a man who's too drunk to stand, to even remember them, let alone anything they say."
His smirk faded into a thoughtful gaze, his brow furrowed with worry. "Now, there's still the problem of what to do with the runaway son of a high ranking businessman with strong ties to the Atlean upper class, to spare the questioning the fact that your jacket costs more than some people's homes is a dead giveaway, along with the fact that blinker squealed everything he knew to pike, likely in the hope that pike would stop hitting him."
"As I said tea, he ain't got anywhere else to go" Oz had pulled himself up slightly, slumping against a crate. Heavy lidded eyes locked onto the man.
"Well, even if that is the case, we're probably not the safest people to be around" he turned to Julius again "you like being hunted by imperialist kingdoms and fighting for survival sunrise to sundown?"
Julius was half asleep, the fire was warm. He was safe. And they had mentioned fighting, he liked fighting. Sleepily, he grinned.
"I'll take that as a yes" the voice was far away, hazy, the dark was welcoming. Never before had Julius welcomed sleep so eagerly.