(A/N: Might be a good idea to re-read the prologue. You never know what details you might've missed.)
That night's special was chicken fried satay. Heaps of it were piled onto large serving plates at the forefront of the canteen, and Killua and Feathers had to shove and push through a mass of hungry wizards to get at it. They eventually triumphed and thumped down trays of heavy plates and bowls on one of the back wooden tables where the smell of rum and ale was not so strong. Although not one of the rowdier nights, the atmosphere in the orange-lit tent was still lively, with the buzz of conversations and laughter all around them.
"So where were you last night?" asked Feathers, taking his first bite.
"Avoiding you. You're sweatier than a sagging armpit, do you realize that?" Killua said, blowing at his soup to cool it down.
"Ahah, very funny."
"Fisher asked me to bunk with him, and he didn't exactly let me say no. What's with that guy anyway?"
"Fisher? Oh, him, um, where do I begin?" Feathers said, rubbing the prickles of his hair. Killua watched amused as he struggled for words.
"You talk with him often?" he finally prompted.
"Hmm, yeah. I mean, like here and there. You know me. I've tried asking for a few tips and tricks, but I've never managed to actually hold a proper conversation. There's a big gap between us." His cheeks briefly flushed red and he looked away.
"I would've guessed. He did say that he got his magic as a kid. I honestly can't believe that."
"If that isn't cool enough, he was trained by The Scythewielder."
Killua had to do a double-take. "Wait, The Scythewielder? Wow, he really is hot shit."
"Hot damn," agreed Feathers, and Killua had the sneaking suspicion he wasn't referring to Fisher's magic.
"So what happened today? Who was on the team? You, Fisher, and who?" Feathers asked, putting them back on track. Killua knew him well enough at this point to know that the conversation would not be over until he relinquished every speck of detail.
"Doc and Chains. Speaking of which..," Killua decided to ask, knowing Feathers would answer with no compunctions. "Are those two…?" He intertwined his fingers.
Feathers gave him a knowing grin. He beckoned Killua with his fingers. Killua leaned in and lent him an ear.
"See that woman over there standing next to Chef? That's Gourmet. She's got a pool wager going on, to see who makes the first move. Whaddya reckon?"
Killua mulled over this while Feathers chewed noisily.
"I think I'm placing my bet on Doc."
"Mine's on Chains. Take you on for it."
"I accept. Anyone else?" he said, surprising himself with his own mongering.
"Poker and Beehive over there are the only officially married couple here. There was a priest and ceremony and everything. Hmm, who else?" Feathers looked around the canteen, and discretely pointed out the couples to Claws.
"Gossiping again boys?"
Killua turned around to come face to face with a salad-filled plate, being carried by Feather's mentor.
Wings was nothing like his protégé. He held neither the rich complexion nor the athleticism, and had the bad habit of walking around as if in a continual trance. Killua didn't know if it was for show or a genuine predisposition, but he did know from experience that he could throw the façade at a split-second's notice and react with all the intensity of fighter in combat.
"Not at all, sir. These are facts I'm sharing. Hard, statistical facts. And you, "he said, jabbing a spoon towards Killua, while Wings settled down next to him, "You still haven't told me what happened during your mission."
"Just some necromancy," said Killua, then he corrected himself. "Maybe not necromancy, really, since those guys weren't properly dead in the first place."
Wings shook his head disapprovingly. "Really, Yorbia is the only continent where this blasphemy is permitted."
"Technically, Azian is the only place where it's outlawed," Feathers rebutted.
"Have you got any books on the history of Yorbia?" Killua asked Wings.
"Yes I do. Why do you ask?"
"I'm just thinking I should brush up on it. We're probably going to be here a while."
"That's a good idea. In that case, Feathers, I will give some to you too, and I expect you to be familiar with them by the end of the week, time permitting."
Feathers swore under his breath. "Thanks a lot, Claws."
Feathers finished his plate, and summoned more servings from the front in a casual display of magic. Killua hadn't even noticed him set up a linkage spell.
Killua had likewise cleaned his plate. Stomach still not satisfied, he excused himself to go get more.
"You know, if you were willing to wake up a couple hours earlier, you could try some training with Feathers to better your ability," said Wings.
"I'll think about it," he said politely, standing up, though he had no intention. He knew it would be a fruitless effort. Plus he enjoyed the few extra scant minutes of sleep in the morning.
Chef had put out some chocolate cakes and sake for desert. He put a small pile of the cakes on his plate, receiving a rather disapproving look from Gourmet, and she whispered something to Chef about 'another goddamned sweet-tooth'. He ignored it and took just two glasses of the sake for himself and Wings, knowing Wings had strictly forbidden Feathers from drinking until he was legal. Poor kid.
He turned around and his plate knocked into someone's hip, jolting its contents but thankfully not spilling anything. He opened his mouth to apologize and looked up to see a man with the most ridiculously pink hair, studying him with a vulture-like interest.
"You're Needle's Brother," he said.
Killua's claws unsheathed under the plate he was holding.
Fisher popped out from behind the strange man, interrupting their brief stare-down. Killua noted his slight unsteadiness he plodded around the man with his own plate, but otherwise he seemed completely fine. He flashed Killua an easy grin.
"Oh hi, Claws. I see you've met Magician. Magician, this is Claws. He's the new guy I was telling you about."
"Pleasure to meet you at last," Magician said with a voice that vaguely reminded Killua of a snake slithering up to its unsuspecting prey. Slimy, surly and slighting.
"I'm sorry, do we know each other?"
"We do. I was a friend of your brother. Don't you remember?"
Killua took a step back to look at the man entirely. Pale, lean but muscular, dressed in harem pants and a sheer shirt. A stance that seemed to take up the whole room. Memories clicked inside his head and he couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Oh right. You're the man my brother was fucking. Nice to see you again."
Magician smiled and it was unpleasant, making Killua's guts tighten inside him."How has your brother been lately? We haven't talked in so long and I can't seem to get in contact with him. Could you help me?" He shook his head as he spoke, as if feeling actual regret.
"Sure, got a Ouija board?"
Magician's reaction was more dramatic than he expected. The smile dropped clear off his face as if he'd been slapped and the glint in his eyes went out like a snuffed candle. A certain darkness overtook his features like a veil.
"I see," he said slowly. "That's a shame,"
"Well then, it was nice seeing you. If you'll excuse me," said Killua, turning away.
"Wait," said Magician and Killua flinched like cold rods just rammed into his spine. Did the man just try to use a fucking compulsion? Killua looked back around to see even Fisher was shocked, backing away and eyes flicking uneasily between Magician and Killua. The Hunters sitting at surrounding tables turned around at the spell's intrusion, glaring at its source.
Magician caught himself quickly and smiled again, this time with less unpleasantness. "We should have a drink, and catch up on events."
Killua opened his mouth to refuse, then Magician said, "Have you heard of Spider's Beer?" Killua's heart skipped a beat, and he was reminded where Magician had been occupied.
"I haven't," said Fisher, furrowing his eyebrows.
"It's a specialty, found only in desert towns of Apharika," Magician said, to both of them. His eyes slid to Killua.
Oh fuck.
"Sure, why not?" said Killua, knowing he didn't have a choice. He felt the sake glass crack in his grip.
"There's a place in town called the Keep. It's not too difficult to find. Meet you there in two hours?"
"Yeah, see you there," Killua said weakly.
After he left, Fisher remained, standing right in Killua's path, preventing him from going back to his table. He was looking at him with an intense expression that one might give a particularly perplexing puzzle piece.
"Claws, what did you say your old job was?"
Killua's voice only faltered slightly as he answered. "Nothing special. Just a freelancer."