"And that was the story of how my mother never let me touch an oven, ever again."
Cole slammed an empty cup of sake on the table, leaning back in his chair smugly. Recalling his country's folklore was a talent that may have escaped him, but the young traveller could still share his own anecdotes with ease.
"Your mother sounds like a riot!" Jay gave some gratuitous applause.
"She was," Cole smiled enigmatically. "And unforgettable, too. I think you two would have gotten along."
"'Scue me," interrupted a rough voice.
The three had resided in a quaint pub, with a few decent rooms in its side-inn. Nya had thought the drinks there were too washed down with water and the food too pickled. There were better bars, better pubs. She bit back her thought, keeping her complaints down. Heroes on quests were not meant to criticise their surroundings, but rather to work on improving them. Meanwhile, prince Jay constantly glanced around, trying to soak in his surroundings. When else would he get a chance to mingle with commoners like this, to see what life would be like if he had no royal duties or responsibilities? Cole was simply thankful for the food.
The rough voice belonged to a bard. He would string out short verses, five lines in length and usually mocking. In his knapsack, he carried scrolls of cheap paper, which he handed out to people for two coins. "Do I know you?" the bard looked at Cole, arching a quizzical eyebrow. "I think I'v–"
"I have a common face," Cole said stiffly. "My father was a prolific man."
"Ah, that must be it," said the bard. "I'm the music for tonight, by the way. How might I entertain you?"
"By going away."
The bard gasped, and dramatically put a hand over his chest. "Oh, you cruel, cruel man."
Nevertheless, he showed no sign of leaving. Cole glared at him until he did.
"Not a fan of music?" Jay queried.
"On the contrary," Cole fiddled with the edge of the bone china teacup. "I can appreciate decent music."
The prince snorted, and tried to conceal his giggles by faceplanting onto the table. "I love you guys! Wow, honestly, what wit–".Unable to finish his sentence, he spluttered and kept his head down.
On the edge of the table, Nya had finished her food early. Propped up over her katana, she looked every inch the bold adventurer.
Had it only been a week or so since she departed from home? A week or so since she cut the edges of her hair, and took up a destiny to rescue her brother?
So much could happen in a week.
She recalled the enchanter's commands: to find her commands. Where was Kai now? In the cold North, the enchanter had said. Kai consumed her thoughts – her brother, the brother she never knew. What would he think of her? Would he despise her, for her birth brought his transformation? Would he appreciate how she would go to the end of her world to find him? Would he even be properly human – and remain a bird forever?
They were supposed to be siblings. Nya would not have been the breadwinner for her and her mother, working endlessly to support them after her father's death. The two would have been working side-by-side, fighting side-by-side, perhaps even adventuring togeth–
But would she even be here, if it weren't for Kai? Perhaps, without his disappearance, she wouldn't have met Cole or Jay.
Nya watched the two. Jay had his head on the table, giggling profusely over something Cole said. He caught her staring, grinned and awkwardly waved.
She grinned back.
"I hope these circumstances aren't too primitive for you, Your Highness,"
"Are you kidding?" Jay said. "We could be sleeping in trees, for all I care! What matters is you got me out of that tower."
"It wasn't that hard," Nya hoped that statement didn't come off as bragging. "Actually locating your tower was hard, and the birds did most of the work."
The prince nodded. "I wonder how they're doing." He missed the birds. They had been so fond of him. Even when Pixal's letters had stopped, the birds never failed him.
"I mean, they can speak. Maybe they'll send news?" Nya suggested. "But why would they c–"
Before she could finish, the bard from before dived between the two. "News?" he said. "Oh, I've got news, alright."
"I thought you were a bard?" Cole glared.
The bard glared back. "Well, arrogant little adventurer, where do you think musicians get the inspiration for their songs from?"
Jay did not seem to recognise the tension between Cole and the bard, and slightly tapped the latter on the shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but I believe you mentioned something about the news?"
The bard pulled out his knapsack, the one stuffed with paper scrolls. "And music doesn't always pay, you know. Two coppers."
"The news?" Nya asked, as Jay passed two coins to the bard-slash-newspaper-vender. Naturally, she thought, the first thing a once tower-locked royal would wish to read.
"Of course!" Jay took the paper. "Princess Pixal says it's important to keep updated to current events. It makes you more world-wise." He propped up the paper, took one glance, and frowned. "No," he said, his utterance lost to the clamor of the pub. "No way."
"Kid, you alright?" Cole looked up in concern.
Nya attempted to pat him comfortingly on the shoulder but, unsure how, lightly punched him instead.
Jay said nothing more. He simply turned the newspaper around for Nya and Cole to read, the two squinting at the small print of the faded pages.
On the paper was a black and white photograph – a new technological development, one that Jay was very impressed by. Princess Pixal Charming was gesturing to a robot, and behind her, stood several more robots, which looked of a similar make. Cryptor, the caption under the photo gave the name of the robot.
"She's been amassing an army," Jay said. "How– wow."
He thought back to all the notes he had sent her during his imprisonment – the plans, the blueprints, the sketches. He had offered suggestions, ideas of improvement, and she sent back even better ideas and letters of approval.
Jay's thoughts wandered to the falcon.
It had been a while since he last saw it.
His heart clenched.
Those letters from his best friend had meant everything to him.
"We had an alliance!" he said. "I promised her to alliance. I forgot if it got written down on paper or not but–"
"Kid," Cole said. "You're rambling."
Jay buried his head in his arms. "I'm not a damsel in a tower anymore! I'm free! And I don't wanna fight in a war. I don't even know how to fight!"
He had been riding on an emotional high – a wave of positive emotion that was impossible to curb. Jay had been overly optimistic ever since Nya busted him out of his imprisonment, and he thought nothing at all could put a stopper on his happiness. Every negative emotion had been pushed to the back of his mind; he wanted nothing at all to distract him from his joy.
All those negative emotions reached its peak.
And Jay began to cry.
The young prince softly wailed, tears streaking down his cheeks and onto his shirtsleeves. A few other people in the pub looked away, embarrassed. Jay knew he was making a scene, knew that he was causing more trouble for Cole and Nya, the two people he never would want to cause any trouble for.
This was exactly how a prince would act: crying to get his way, and being a downright bother to the cause. Jay steeled himself with that realisation, and finally looked up from the table, trying to hide his whimpering sulk.
"I don't want to be a prince. I don't want to go home. I want to stay with you two, join you guys on an adventure. Whatever."
Nya smiled at him with a smile that set his heart aflutter. "And I would appreciate it that."
"Welcome to the party," Cole grinned.
A party. An adventuring party. Epics got written about people in adventuring parties, and so did ballads.
(Though, the ballads usually sang about how adventuring parties would tear through a town and wreck it completely.)
Jay struggled to find a word to convey his feelings. Awesome? Radical? Sweet? No, those were too casual. He needed to voice his gratitude for his acceptance in the grandest way possible!
He coughed, and enunciated.
"Neat."
Gods, no, that was a terrible expression. Jay wanted to bury his face in his hands again, but didn't want to make a sense. What if Nya and Cole thought he was a pain? What if they revoked their offer for him to join them?
Instead, the two were still smiling, no sign of doubt on their faces.
For now, Jay thought, and chided himself for being so negative.
Nya seemed bored of her own quiet contemplation, and waved the barmaid over to order another drink. When that was dealt with, she turned to Cole.
"Hey, dude? I would like to let you know: I called you my sidekick once. And I'm sorry. You're not my sidekick."
Raising his own glass to his lips critically, Cole arched an eyebrow. "I think I could well reasonably be sidekick material. Are you doubting me?"
"No, no, I meant that you're your own person," Nya said, defensively.
"Fine, as my own person, I decide that I would like to be your sidekick."
No reasonable man would want to play second fiddle in someone else's story. But Cole was not a reasonable man. To be a sidekick was safe, he reckoned. To support someone else and to dedicate yourself to that meant that you avoided a great deal of hurt.
He was scared of being in control of himself – more scared than he would like to admit.
"Nya, I would love to be your sidekick!" Jay cut in.
"Personally, you strike me as more love interest material," Cole said, throwing an eyebrow wiggle in Nya's direction to get his point across. "Just so it's clear, though, Jay – you're too scrawny to be my type."
(It took a good five seconds for the prince to work out what Cole meant.)
As the tabletop conversation dimmed around him, Jay scanned through the rest of the articles – something about how the Middle Kingdom lost its famed nightingale in a freak wind, an interview with a Middle Kingdom nobleman, and in the back of the paper, did some Sudoku puzzles, a trendy new game from the Land of the Rising Sun.
Tomorrow, the party would continue their trek to his kingdom.
Jay would see his garden again, his room again, with those familiar blueprints and project prototypes. He could, once more, run through those familiar hallways and read romance novels by bay windows. He could– he could– he would have to leave that kingdom.
That life was a life for the old Jay. The pathetic prince lost in his own world, the guy who just wanted to be rescued.
What sort of prince did he want to be now? Jay had no idea. But he was going to be a great one, he swore to that.
He closed his eyes peacefully in quiet contemplation.
His thoughts flickered to Pixal's army again.
I really do hope she knows what she's doing.