"Sol."
"Fuck off, man..." Sol muttered in his sleep, rolling over and pulling his coat over his face.
"Sol, wake up."
"I don't freaking wanna..."
"Fine, suit yourself."
Before Sol could ask what that was supposed to mean, his jacket was torn harshly from his grasp. The cold, damp air rushed against his bare skin, heavy with mist. He sat up, scrambling to cover his lap, and cried out in protest.
"What the heck, Yuri!" he fumed. His clothes were in a crumpled heap next to him. He grabbed his jeans and quickly pulled them on, then stood up and planted his hands firmly on his girlish hips. He started to shout something else, then blushed and curled his toes around his tank top, flicked it up into his hands, and pulled it quickly over his head.
Yuri gave a nonchalant shrug.
"I warned you, didn't I?" he asked, tossing Sol his coat.
Sol offered a laconic grunt in response as he slid his bracers into place, then shoved his arms through his sleeves.
"Alright, where to?" the mage asked finally.
"Paeonia." Yuri replied gravely.
Sol swallowed.
"You've gotta be kidding me. Paeonia?" he spluttered.
"I have a feeling that friend I mentioned is there."
"A feeling? You're dragging me across the border based on a premonition?"
Yuri ignored him.
"There's a town to the northeast called Doncaster. That's where we're headed."
"Dammit." Sol whined. "I may as well start writing my will now. Wait, that's a good idea. Give me a minute—and don't expect me to leave you anything but my debt."
"Stop complaining." Yuri huffed with a dismissive shake of his head. "If we start off now, we should be there by noon."
"I wish we could just quick jump..."
"What?"
"Nothing."
—Skit No. 004: Masochist—
"Uh, Sol?"
"What?" Sol demanded.
"Forget it."
"Hey, no! What are you looking at? You were about to say something."
"I just didn't realize you were a masochist, is all." Yuri smirked.
"Huh...? W-wait! How much did you guys see!?"
"Enough."
"What's that supposed to mean!? H-hey, I wasn't finished talking! Yuri~!"
—End Skit—
"So this is...Doncaster?"
The town was huge and lined with expensive-looking buildings. The streets were all paved with silvery bricks and branched out in three directions, wrapping around the entire town and, Sol guessed, joining at the other end. White lampposts hung on every corner, dormant until nightfall. To top it off, a large, sparkling fountain crouched in the center of town, just offset in the plaza.
And there were people there, too, but it wasn't like other towns Sol had been to before, where elves and Lycanth and Celestians alike roamed the streets. Everyone looked the same; light-skinned, tall, humans. It was enough to make Sol shrink back for a moment and pull his coat tighter around himself.
"The City of Purity itself." Yuri hummed in confirmation, then nudged Sol in the chest. "I'm going to go gather information. Wait for me here. We don't want to attract too much attention."
"Huh? O-oh..." Sol agreed absently. "Sure, okay."
Yuri looked at Sol oddly, then shrugged.
"I'll be back in a few hours, tops." he called before disappearing down one of the silvery roads.
"Yeah..." Sol sighed to himself, leaning against the fountain and staring begrudgingly into the water at his own bedraggled reflection. It glared back at him, eyes bloodshot and have shaded by ivory bangs, though they were more taupe than white, caked with sweat and dirt.
How long since I've taken a shower? he thought to himself. It's only been...four days? It felt like longer. I guess that means I have three days left to—
"Hey, kid!"
Sol turned on his heel and came face-to-face with a boy who looked about fourteen or fifteen. His hair, long and girlish and jet-black, was pulled up in a ponytail on one side of his head. His shorts and tunic were both the same shade of purple and decorated with blue crescent moons and yellow stars. His skin was pale—all but white, and only slightly lighter than Sol's own. He stood with his hands on his hips, eyeing the half-elf before him as though thinking something over.
"Me?" Sol asked, annoyed.
"No, the guy next to you." the kid snorted. "Yeah, you. Are you strong?"
"Strong?" Sol echoed. "I...who cares?"
"I care." the boy replied calmly, but he was fighting back the biggest cat-ate-the-canary grin Sol had ever seen on anyone but Luma. "I want to know. I need to know. I can't stand it when there's something I don't know, you know?"
"No, I don't know." Sol huffed indignantly. "And you'll never know, now, will you?"
The boy laughed, and Sol's heart sank; the cat didn't eat the canary. The canary killed the cat.
He turned around and started to say something else, but Sol was quicker. He leaped at the other with the intent of knocking him over, but he must have been expecting that. He cartwheeled out of the way and landed on the edge of the fountain, bowing as he did, and Sol was left sprawling on the ground, rubbing his head and whining in pain and indignation.
He stood up again, turning to face the boy, but he had already jumped off the fountain and landed behind Sol. The mage spun around and grabbed the kid by the collar of his shirt, his fist bawled and ready to punch his nose in. Still, the holier-than-thou smirk on his pale face didn't fade. Sol let him go, watching as he backstepped calmly, then leaned forward to look him in the eye.
"I guess not." he sighed, sounding disappointed. "That's too bad. But then, you didn't exactly look strong to begin with."
"Shut up." Sol hissed.
"Hm?"
"I said shut up!"
He hadn't even realized that he'd struck out at the other until he looked up to see a firm, gloved hand on his wrist, and another on the boy's.
The man between the two was taller than both boys, dwarfing them easily. He had long, amber hair pulled out of his face in a ponytail. His outfit was an eccentric one; a teal shirt and gloves, a celadon cavalry skirt, and jeans. There was a huge, broad sword strapped to his back; the hilt was just above his right shoulder, and the tip of the blade fell below his waist, almost at his left knee.
The dark-haired boy fell to his knees, as did the few bystanders still gathered in the area. Following their lead, Sol slid down to an awkward bow as best as he could with his arm restrained.
The man sighed.
"What's going on here, boys?" he asked.
"He started it!" Sol blurted. He struggled, pulling at his arm, but the swordsman didn't let go.
"I apologize, Lord Tilkis." the other boy murmured sheepishly, though he cut Sol a grin that told him it wasn't a sincere apology.
"Just be glad one of my brothers didn't catch you fighting like that." the man named Tilkis murmured. "What are you doing here anyway, Jay the Unseen? I had heard that you were in Natick."
The boy—Jay—grinned and stood up, though he kept his head lowered respectfully.
"I came back early. I have what I went there for."
Tilkis raised an eyebrow.
"Is that right?" he inquired.
Sol cleared his throat and tugged at his wrist.
"Look, this is all very interesting, but I need to catch up with someone, so if you'd kindly let go of me, then—"
"Hey, not so fast." Tilkis objected. Sol felt his arm being pulled on, and he stood hastily. He had to crane his neck to look Tilkis in the eye, but then, he was already used to that.
The brunette paused, then shook head.
"You aren't from Paeonia, are you?" he asked, and Sol's tainted blood ran cold.
The noble must have taken Sol's guilty silence as a yes, because he looked at the half-elf with a look that laughed, I know that you know that I know what he knows that you know.
"I didn't think so. Lucky for you, my little brother isn't here, so you won't die...today."
"What do you intend to do, then?" Sol managed breathlessly, wriggling his arm free and wiping it off like he was afraid it was dirty—not that the man's hands, concealed by a pair of teal gloves, could have had much dirt on them to begin with.
Tilkis shrugged.
"Arrest you, I suppose. That is the standard penalty for fighting, after all."
Sol growled in fear and shook his head.
"Y-you can't." he whispered.
"Why can't I?" Tilkis asked. "Lawfully, I can do whatever I want—"
"No." Sol repeated. "You can't do that."
"There's no need to cut me off." the noble huffed. "If you'd let me finish, I was going to say that just because I can doesn't mean I should, nor does it mean that I intend to."
"Hunh?" Sol mewled in confusion. He broke eye contact with the other, having looked up long enough to make his neck ache, and kicked his own left foot with his right.
"I have business with Jay over here," Tilkis explained slowly, "and I can't have you wandering around and starting fights. Besides, this town is too big for a blind foreigner to navigate on his own—"
"How did you know I'm—"
"—therefore, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask that you wait at the castle until I myself can show you around."
There was a silence that drowned out the sounds of shouting and laughing in the background, coming from the Doncaster streets behind them. Jay was still smirking, and Tilkis had what Sol figured was a small smile on his face.
"You can't—er, I mean, I can't. I'm...waiting for someone. Purple hair, about your height...I can't leave now."
"You can't disobey the prince of Paeonia, either." Jay shot back quietly.
"Prince?" Sol swallowed, his fear renewed.
"Jay, please." Tilkis rebuked with a shake of his head. He then turned to face Sol again and added, "I'm third in line and least favorite of the king, so I'm not very important. Now, I'll send a few guards out to flag down your friend. Until then, as Prince Tilkis Barone of Paenia, I must insist that you return to the castle—you have no choice, by the way."
So much for unimportant, Tilkis...