"Is he dead…?" Brandon murmured as he got off of the boy, watching fearfully as Chaston pressed his ear against his no longer glowing chest. "I-I didn't mean to hurt him! I was just… I-I… please tell me he's okay…" Arthael patted Brandon's back to quiet him down. There was a heavy silence for a few seconds until Chaston straightened himself and smiled at Brandon.
"Don't worry, he's breathing, just a bit tired from all of that action, I suppose." At that moment the boy released a comically loud snore. Brandon sighed audibly with relief and pressed his arms behind his head, grinning.
"What should we do with him?" Arthael questioned, kneeling down beside the lightly snoring boy, raising an eyebrow as a tiny drop of drool trickled off the side of his mouth. "He's certainly caused a lot of trouble…"
Brandon knelt down beside Arthael, giving him a pleading smile. "Can we please keep him alive, Mr. Arthael? This must be a mistake. There's no way anyone would attack a town on purpose!"
Chaston remained skeptical, but Arthael quickly bent to Brandon's will. "Come now Chaston… He's just a boy. We have to at least give him a chance."
Chaston crossed his arms and frowned. "…fine, but he leaves as soon as he wakes up."
Brandon lept to his feet and threw his hands in the air. "Thanks Mr. Chaston!"
Arthael lifted the boy into his huge arms and carried him into the tavern, Brandon and Chaston following suit.
The boy wasn't all that much older than Brandon himself, hardly sixteen, although he had clearly been at work a lot longer than he had been. Brandon sat thinking to himself as he sat on the floor next to him.
Chaston had refused to let the boy sleep in any of his free beds, largely because a sudden wave of customers left none open, and to Chaston the customer was the most important thing. So there he lay, on the hard floor, with Brandon sitting right next to him. He thought it would have been unfair to sit in a chair while the poor boy had to lie on the floor, so he'd opted to sit next with him.
Brandon sat there, chewing on the breakfast Chaston had made for him. It was likely the most delicious plate of eggs he'd ever tasted. For a countryman Chaston had the skills of a fine culinary artist. Brandon took a sip of his new favorite fruit juice and went back to staring at the boy.
He had very tan skin, similar to the shade of a walnut, probably from spending a lot of time outside. His hair was a light brown, just a tad darker than Brandon's and stuck back in an almost impossible way, as if his hair had been windblown and then gelled to stay that way. His bangs were pulled back, and he had a prominent widow's peak. The boy wore a cape, similar to Brandon's, but a pure white with a collar that tied more similarly to a scarf. His shirt was a light grey and his pants even darker, perhaps a little closer to black than white. He wore armor on his forearms and lower legs, in a white color. "Jeez…" Brandon thought as he took his final bite of egg. "This guy's really into the color white."
The boy snoozed more quietly than he had been earlier. His eyes were shut peacefully as he dozed. Brandon raised an eyebrow; the guy was really sawing logs. When was the last time he'd taken a nap?
His blue eyes wandered down to the boy's chest. The mysterious glowing had ceased entirely and he almost looked as if the incident from earlier simply hadn't happened. To be honest, Brandon had been really worried there. He'd shot an arrow point blank into his collar bone. Basically his neck and yet he was completely unscathed. It was almost as if he'd absorbed the blow.
Shrugging, Brandon stood up to stretch his back and carry his plate into the back room to wash it. Chaston had offered to clean it himself, but Brandon wasn't about to let that happen. He'd even offered to clean the rest of the dirty dishes as a "thank you" for both, letting him stay and letting the boy take a nap, albeit on the floor.
Brandon pushed back his cape, he wasn't about to take that off for anything. It just made him seem so cool no matter what he was doing, take washing dishes for example. So Brandon dug eagerly into the dishes, washing them as expertly as he could. Back home he'd had a job washing dishes for a pizza place, so he was more than ready for this task.
Minutes passed as Brandon worked his way through the pile, he hummed a tune for a little while. Actually, he needed to hurry up and make a decision. Arthael would need to leave soon, but Brandon wasn't about to leave that boy asleep in the hands of Chaston. He'd decided that leaving was a good idea… but now he was a little stuck.
The boy sighed, his washing becoming a bit more solemn, until Arthael poked his head in. "Brandon, I'm going to have to leave soon. I have other towns to make deliveries to." He stepped in a little further. "Are you going to join me?"
"Mhmm… Yeah I guess so." Brandon sighed and placed his current dish out to dry, wiping his hands on a rag on his way out.
As Arthael and Chaston exchanged hearty laughs and "good byes" Brandon kept his eye on the boy, sort of hoping he'd wake up first. He'd actually been excited to meet this boy for some reason.
Almost as if his thoughts had been answered the boy stirred, yawning once before blinking his eyes open. Brandon's smile widened as he sat up, rubbing his head.
"…agh…" The boy groaned, with a somewhat disappointed look on his face. It didn't last longer than a few seconds before he whipped his head around, with an utterly confused look replacing it.
"Hey there!" Brandon called, running over, stopping hardly a foot away from him and almost tripping and toppling over. "You're awake!"
The boy shot to his feet where he stood in a battle-ready pose, feet planted firmly on the ground and hands balled into fists. "I demand to know where you've taken me!"
"Whoa, what?" Brandon shrunk away from his fighting stance, taking a step or two back and holding up his hands. "I-I didn't do anything like that!"
"Then explain to me how I've ended up in this place!" The boy demanded, stepping threateningly closer. "I've got a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it!"
"Boys, boys." Arthael cut in between the two, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. "Calm down, no one's kidnapped anyone." He looked at the boy with a gentle expression. "We haven't done anything to you."
The boy crossed his arms and made an expression near to a pout. "Oh yeah? And how am I supposed to believe that?"
"You were changed." Arthael pointed to the boy's chest. "Something inside of you turned you into a monster and you stormed on our village." He then pointed to Brandon. "This boy had enough courage to face you and knocked you down just in time to save the rest of us."
The boy's expression softened from irritation to a slight guilt. "…oh. I see." He shrugged and crossed his arms once again. "Ahem… I apologize, for my failure to control er… myself."
Brandon made a confused expression, but Arthael patted him on the shoulder. "That's good to hear. Seeing as you hadn't caused as much damage as you could have, you won't be getting into much trouble either."
"Oh, great." The boy almost looked surprised, but smiled triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips.
Arthael gestured at Brandon and stepped to the side, standing back with Chaston and chaperoning this introduction silently.
Brandon stuck out his hand and grinned at the boy. "My name is Brandon! It's nice to meet you."
Shaking Brandon's hand politely, the boy stood back and whipped out a sword, from what Brandon presumed was midair. He draped it behind his shoulders and stuck his free hand on his hip, striking a pose that Brandon had to admit… was pretty cool.
"My name is Sir Clovisten Adelhard, Knight of the Order of The Guardians of Fortune." He declared with pride.
"…um…woah." Brandon stood there dumbfounded. "W-Wait. Could you repeat that?"
Clovisten sighed and rubbed at the back of his head. "Okay, just call me Clovisten. Sir Clovisten."
"Clovisten…" Brandon tapped his chin. "How about I call you Clover? That seems a lot more fun!"
Clovisten flinched as if the words had struck him in the face. "What? No! Why does everyone always want to call me that!" He stood in front of Brandon and pointed a desperate finger at his chest. "N-No! Don't call me that!"
"Ehehehe…" Brandon grinned somewhat devilishly. "Okay then." He crossed his arms and leaned a little closer. "…Clover."
"Aaaugh!" Clover rubbed his forehead and whined. "I hate that! Clover is not a name fitting of a Knight of The Order of The Guardians of Fortune!"
"Ahahaha!" Brandon snickered and held his stomach to keep from doubling over with laughter. "Your title is so long!"
"Well at least I have one!" Clover pouted, returning the sword to the magical space in which he had conjured it.
Arthael leaned toward Chasten to whisper, "They're certainly getting along aren't they?"
"Sure, but what are you going to do? Are you going to leave?"
"Hmm…" Arthael mused for a moment.
"Look… Okay." Clover took a breath and bowed down low to Brandon. "I am in your debt for returning me to myself. I am obligated to offer my services to you, but…" He straightened himself, and looked off to the side, in a way that almost made him look ashamed. "…I have something important I need to be looking for."
"What are you looking for?" Brandon asked, curiously.
"It's er… confidential." Clover scratched at his neck. Clearly he wasn't comfortable speaking about it.
"Well, uh…" Brandon rubbed his chin for a moment, before he eyes lit up and he turned toward the boy. "Hey! What if I helped you look for it?"
Clover actually looked surprised. "Really?"
"Sure!' Brandon grinned. "Actually, I'm looking for a place myself and I figure if I hang out with you, I might at least find some clues more quickly."
"Hm… Sure, why not?" Clover shrugged.
"Mr. Arthael, is that okay?" Brandon turned toward the man, a pleading look in his eyes.
Arthael nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. I was hoping for something like this to happen. Perhaps this way, it will be more of a journey for you."
"Yes!" Brandon pumped a fist into the air. "A journey! That would be awesome!"
"Gonna miss him?" Chaston murmured to his friend.
"Sure, but I'll be alright." Arthael smiled. "I've only known the kid a day or two. I hope one day, if I get lucky in life…" He chuckled. "…to have a son just like him."
Brandon stuck out his hand again and this time Clover shook it without hesitance.