Jonatan’s spirits were oddly high all things considered. After their untimely introduction to the clerics and the oddly calm and upbeat Matilda, he thought he would be exhausted. In reality however, he was rather enjoying the walk, at least compared to the previous walks with Jasper where they were constantly under the threat of owl based death.

Jasper on the other hand, was looking rather worse for wear. Every few steps of his were a stumble, he leaned on the passing trees, and he grunted in pain whenever he had to move the right side of his body. Jonatan almost didn’t notice that he seemed to be cradling that side of his chest, like he didn’t want Matilda to see him in pain.

Jonatan had a silent moment of sympathy for him. He didn’t know the whole story yet, but with how tired he looked when they first met, his panic attack in Mirth and now all this, even Jonatan could tell that he had gone through his own personal hell several times over with no chance to find peace or trust anyone else. A life like that…Jonatan wondered if that would be his from now on.

That thought took the smile off his face, gave him dreadful goosebumps, and made him realise just how cold he was, how heavy he felt, and how sore his legs were from all the running. He reached out and took Jasper’s hand in his own, making the redhead nearly jump in surprise, giving Jonatan something small to smile about.

“What’s that for?” Jasper winced as he turned his side in a painful way, taking laboured but measured breaths to keep him from losing his cool.

“Seemed like we could both use a hand.” Jonatan offered a smile. “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow yours.” Jasper rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips anyway.

“Thanks, Jon.” He wound his hand free and jabbed Jonatan in the shoulder with it, who winced in fake pain, getting him a small chuckle from Matilda, who was looking on with a side glance while fiddling with various plants that she seemed to be using as a trail. Jasper’s smile faded the moment her head turned around.

“Guard up.” Jasper whispered. “Worst case, we have to fight her and run. We don’t know if she’s with us or not.” Jonatan gave a hesitant nod. He didn’t like the idea of even considering fighting someone who had been kind to them, but the guards of Mirth used to be kind to him, now they actively wanted to capture or kill him. The cold feeling came back, as his head hung a little lower.

“Here we are.” A relieved voice came from Matilda, who had seemed to disappear behind a tree, then emerged with a dirt covered sack almost twice as tall as her hanging off her shoulder. “I’ll have to thank that barkeep for giving me the tip. Who knew the bears round here hated alcohol?”

“They do?” Jonatan looked on with genuine interest in this little factoid. He unconsciously tapped his hand on one of the flasks on his hip. He could really go for one, but the sun was just starting to show, so it was a bit early for him .

“Apparently he uses fermenting fruit to keep them out of his bins.” She brushed the dirt and wrapped packages of fermenting fruit from the sack and unstrapped it, taking a swig from one of the hidden water skins. “Have a seat, you lot look like death.” She gestured at some overturned logs that Jonatan wasn’t entirely sure weren’t rotten.

Jasper was the first to sit, almost collapsing onto the log, growling as he clutched his side, now unable to hide his obvious pain. Matilda got up to help him, he drew his blades and stopped her in her tracks, the point at her neck.

“Don’t come near me. Not a step…closer.” His face was twisted in pain and fear, he was blinking fast, coughing between shallow breaths. “Who do you…obey?” With a ray of light from the sun piercing the tree canopy lit up his face, showing a bluish tint to his lips.

“Whoa whoa, Jasper, are you ok?” Jonatan moved forward to help but was stopped by Matilda, who held up her hand, her face now flat and calm.

“No outward wounds, blue tint to the lips, breathing trouble and sharp pain.” She muttered, scanning Jasper’s face. “I think you have a collapsed lung that was improperly healed, mister. I can heal it for you.” She didn’t take her eyes off him for an instant.

“Answer…me.” Jasper’s grip tightened, his eye widened with steely determination. Jonatan was in awe at how he had managed to walk that long with essentially half his breathing.

“I’m a ranger who came here to defend this reality, as well as a priestess of The Green Sister.” Matilda unslung her bow and quiver, placing them gently on the ground, then producing a delicate wood carving from around her neck, which looked to be a harp strung with roses. Jonatan thought it looked cool.

Jasper’s eye widened slightly, then closed, as he lowered his blade.

“Sorry. Had to be sure we could trust you.” Jasper wheezed, sheathing his steel and cradling his side once more. Matilda took the opportunity to step forward and place her hands gently on Jasper’s chest, whispering what sounded like a prayer in a different language. It didn’t sound quite as harsh as the prayers the other clerics used, more like asking your mother to help you rather than a judge to sentence you to death.

A moment later, the multicoloured mist, that Jonatan came to understand as being the ‘make things not injured anymore’ spell, ebbed out of her hands, and wrapped around his chest in a mesmerising display of expertise. When the light faded, Jasper took a long, deep breath.

“I’ll never be that good at healing.” Jasper shook his head in minor embarrassment. “Thank you, Matilda. Sorry for the hostilities. My name is Jasper Rhys Elluin, This is Jonatan Willow. We’re—” He was cut off by Matilda gasping.

“Elluin?! As in the gladiator king Samuel Elluin?!” Her eyes were wide and almost in shock.

“Oh…Yeah.” Jasper was caught very off guard by the interruption. “He was my great uncle I think. But that’s not relevant, we’re—” He tried to restart his previous train of thought.

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“Oh wow, you must be an amazing fighter yourself if you’re related to him!” She turned to Jonatan, who was looking on like a cat would look at a party. “You’ve heard of him right? He wrote ‘The Tapestry of Deadly Performance’!”

“Sorry, I don’t really read.” Jonatan shrugged. “Fighting however, I might give it a shot.” Matilda looked proud of herself.

“Can I please get to my point?” Jasper massaged the side of his head, as if his pain had transferred to his head.

“Sorry.” Jonatan and Matilda spoke in equal sheepishness.

“I was trying to say that we’re bards.” Jonatan was shocked into silence at that. The entire town had wanted to kill them for that, and he told her just like that? Why?

“Oh!” Matilda perked up, and stood to attention, then ruffled around in her large sack for blankets which she offered to the two boys “You should have said so, you’re the first ones I’ve seen in a while, I was starting to think something had happened!”

“Wait, I’m lost here.” Jonatan held up his hands, his eyes begging Jasper for an explanation, earning him one of his rare chuckles.

“I forget you don’t know anything about us. The Green Sister is the halfling goddess of nature and music. She’s a patron to bards as much as she is to her kind.” He gestured to Matilda, who flashed a thumbs up. “Her followers are hard to find because they’re mostly rangers and druids, and are thus fond of spending most of the time alone in the woods, never to be seen again.”

“That’s…fair.” Matilda looked like she wanted to complain but could find nothing to say. Her expression changed for a moment, then she turned to Jonatan. “Wait, you’re a trainee?”

“That’s a rather long story that I know even less about I’m afraid.” Jonatan chuckled. “I only learned about bards and magic and such in the last week or so.” Matilda looked even more confused. Jasper cleared his throat.

“I don’t have the full picture but here’s what I know.” Jasper sat forward, draining the water that he brought with him with a satisfied sigh.

Jasper recounted the same story he told to Jonatan, now including the recent events in Mirth. Jonatan chimed in with the details of his side of the story every now and then, making sure to include the details of his new record for throwing accuracy and owl-familiar whacking.

When Jasper was done, the sun’s heat was far less comforting, as it hung in the air like a mist, draping everything in a warm dread. Matilda was the first to break the silence, but not with words. Her tears hit the leaves beneath her with a small crack, as her face was frozen in shock.

“Glamour…is gone?” She whispered, as if barely believing it herself.

“Did you have friends there?” Jasper’s face grew darker, the shadows sank on his eyepatch, turning his other eye into a web of tired lines.

“My fiancé went there to…to rekindle his old passion for dance. He said he’d be back in a few months.” She held her face in her hands, sobbing. Jonatan just now noticed the polished wooden ring on her hand, and he wiped the tears out of his own eyes.

“I have been running from the trackers for a while now. I haven’t had the chance to go back to see if there are any others yet. We’re headed to the next town over to find leads on survivors.” Jasper spoke to Matilda softly, but Jonatan recognised his tone of voice from the tavern at Mirth. He was barely containing his own anger.

“I’m coming with you.” Matilda finally spoke, her once upbeat voice now steeped in malice. “If what you told me is true, then the clerics, wizards and warlocks are even more threatening together, and I cant overlook them destroying others while putting this plane at risk.” She raised her gaze to meet Jasper’s. “What do we do first?”

“Sleep?” Jonatan chimed in, offering his own reassuring smile to his two angry friends. “I don’t know much about tracking and such but wouldn’t it be easier to mover at night when we’re not exhausted?”

Matilda stared at him, the rage in her eyes boiling. Jasper moved to sit beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“If you lose yourself to revenge, you will die.” Jasper spoke to her firmly, but with understanding. “It’s what happened to Glamour, and it’s what will happen to us if we aren’t careful.”

Matilda wiped another tear from her eyes, nodded to Jasper, and stood up. She and Jonatan set up a shelter from her pack, while Jasper collapsed into sleep almost immediately. Jonatan had never seen him open up that quickly before. He was completely different only minutes before when he thought he was in danger but when he realised Matilda was a friend, it’s like it was Jonatan’s first time meeting the real Jasper.

“He’s lying you know.” Matilda spoke quietly, catching Jonatan off guard.

“What? About what?” Jonatan felt a strange sense of defensiveness that he wasn’t really used to.

“He wants to get revenge on the people who hurt him just as much as I do.” She stared at Jasper, a sad smile on her face. “I don’t think I could have gone as long as he did without giving up.”

Jonatan stared at her, then Jasper. He had never really thought about it, but Jasper always looked so strong to him, even when they weren’t fighting. Was it this?

“What do you think drives him to keep going? For me it would be my duty and my fiancé. For you, it’s your morals isn’t it?” Matilda nodded at him, to which he blushed.

“Well, that and I can’t exactly have a good drink if I can’t even sit down.” Jonatan chuckled.

The two chatted for a while before Jonatan joined Jasper in going to sleep, Matilda taking the first watch for them. Jonatan had a lot to think about when he went to sleep, from why he was here, to what he was going to do. His eyes closed with thoughts of Jasper and Matilda, people who he could learn so much from.

Imagine his surprise when he dreamed of magic owl clubbing.

***

Jasper hated his dreams. He couldn’t shake away their faces, afraid, betrayed, and looking to him for protection, only to end up staring, eyes unblinking, among all the others he failed to protect. The colosseum was dark, and the posters of their event were torn to shreds, replaced by the kill on sight order for him and his family.

“I’m sorry.” The voice came from behind him. The familiar tone of beauty and grace that he would never be able to escape, no matter how much he blamed her.

“You should have protected them.” Jasper growled, turning around to spit more vitriol, but was met only with his own crying face. He was in front of the mirror, covered in stitched wounds, the blackened mess where his eyes used to be, and his blades, stained red with his failure.

“I couldn’t.” The voice came again, always the same tone, never any hint of sorrow.

“You say you’re here for me, but I would have died for them. Why wouldn’t you do anything for them?” Jasper’s voice was shaky, staring back at himself.

“They’re not my children.” She seemed to imply this was a perfectly legitimate reason.

“If they aren’t then I’m not either!” Jasper yelled, smashing the mirror, seeing himself splinter in front of him. The shards began glowing, her shining form, the same colour as his hair shone from behind him.

“You will always be. It’s in your blood.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “And I shall always be listening for you.”

Jasper turned to face her. So familiar yet so powerful every time.

“If you think that just because you’re a god that I’ll dance to your tune, you’ve forgotten who I am, and what deal you made.”

She just smiled at him.

“It’s because you dance to your own tune that you are my child, like my husband before you. You will never be moved, my child.” She faded away, and he was left alone in his dream.

Jasper hated the night because it always meant he had to talk to her. Now in the day too? Maybe he would take a page out of Jonatan’s book and get blackout drunk to ignore her. That thought did make him smile slightly.