Jonatan severely underestimated exactly how awful it was in that old pipe. Piles of thrown away rotten food along with several nests of extremely enthusiastic mice that were frighteningly large.

He thanked the gods that he had the foresight to wrap his lute in the oilskin along with the bag of supplies that Charis gave them, or else he would never be able to get the stains out of the wood. That thought send shivers down his spine, or maybe it was the dark outline of a curious mouse sniffing his nose.

Jasper wasn’t taking it much better, strings of coughs and elvish curses that Jonatan wished he understood for future reference. Even through his improvised mask made of his shirt, it was clear that he was about as fond of this activity as Jonatan was of getting repeatedly zapped by an angry lizard over and over again.

The only mercy that fell over them was the bright light of the rays of sun at the end of the tunnel, slowly getting closer inch by inch. The morning sun was usually an annoying sign to get out of bed, but now it was a glowing beacon of relief from the rotten, dry squelches that defied all description.

Well, he could describe them, but it would make him sick to even recall it in any detail and it would be a confused mix of slurs and coughs anyway.

He had no idea how long it took them to crawl out, but it felt like days to make even a single shuffle forward through the dark haze. When they did finally touch the sunlight a single moment of bliss swam over them, before being suddenly replaced by the fact that it smelt worse when it dried out.

Jasper was the first to scramble out of that hellish hole, tugging his blades out and tearing the shirt off his face and falling to his knees coughing. Jonatan was far less graceful in his escape, slipping and faceplanting into the grass on his way out, coming back up with a discarded snail shell stuck to his face. This was quickly followed by him stumbling forward a few steps and emptying what little breakfast he had eaten onto the ground.

The two exchanged glances, each heaving lungful’s of non-stagnant air.

“Next time, let’s just fight our way out.” Jonatan panted, putting the oilskin covered package down beside him, and falling down onto his back.

Jasper didn’t say anything, but nodded in agreement, nonetheless, making his way over to stand beside Jonatan, putting his blades down beside the package. He managed to stay standing with his dignity intact for a grand total of five seconds before he collapsed beside Jonatan, taking lungful’s of air to remove the rancid smell from his nose.

The two remained like that for longer than both intended, but lying on the damp grass side by side felt surprisingly calming after all the chaos that they had endured over the last few hours. The crisp air of the autumn breeze cut through their exhaustion, replacing it with peace and calmness. At least until a rather large black frog hopped right on top of his closed eyes, giving him the boost he needed to be bolt upright moments later.

They took stock of the equipment that they had, but it was less than ideal. Combined between them, they had two sets of ruined clothes, a sizable oilskin, some fitted and dull leather armour, a set of blades and knives, a lute, several filed hipflasks and a travelling backpack containing 2 sets of clean clothes, several days’ worth of dry food, a keg of water, a small bar of soap and two bottles of cheap whiskey.

“Well alright then.” Jonatan sighed, stripping the vile fabric off his body. He and Jasper hastily washed themselves with the provided water and soap, deciding to throw the clothes they were wearing away, there was no way to get that much grim out anyway.

All things considered, they were fairly quick at getting re-geared and setting out, though Jonatan was easily the slower of the two, leading to more than a little insistence in Jasper’s voice, who was ready to move a good five minutes faster. As atonement for his tardiness, Jasper decided that Jonatan should carry the bag as well as his lute. He couldn’t argue with that.

The clothes that Charis had packed for them were rather cheap, but served the purpose of making them look like they’d just crawled through thorn bushes. Granted they might have done but Jonatan didn’t want to think about that. Jasper’s shirt was a buttoned coat with half the buttons fallen off, but his armour made him look the part of a rather pretty bandit.

Jonatan on the other hand, was pretty sure he was wearing a used apron that was stitched into a waistcoat. Or a jacket? He honestly didn’t know but it fit him and wasn’t wet, so he’d worn worse.

Jasper took the lead, sticking close to the walls of the town, keeping out of the eyeline of the newly posted guards. They had to work their way to the main road out of Mirth, or else they would be walking on grassy hills for miles with the chance of being shredded by wolves and/or wyverns was enough to shelf that idea pretty quickly.

They knew that Sylvia called some people here (Jonatan was hesitant to call them her friends because he was mad at her right now), so they were planning to wait until they arrive before they promptly run right behind them, keep running through the woods whilst trying not to become riddled with holes via bandits, then keep running until they came up with a better plan.

At least that was all Jonatan heard Jasper say. He was too focussed on the sounds within his home over the walls. It sounded like home, but a cold pit in his stomach told him otherwise. He knew there was something off, the usual chattering of trading and banter between the guards was gone, replaced with a quiet tension and the edges of hushed conversations.

Or was it just the breeze? He couldn’t shake his own nerves, hearing danger in every little thing. It was really starting to sink in that he was a fugitive through no fault of his own. Granted, he’d spent a fair few nights in a cell before but that was just to sober up after a rather loud night at a tavern, but being wanted for execution? It chilled him to the bone, sending a deathly shiver down his spine.

Meanwhile, outside of Jonatan’s mind, Jasper was doing his best to shelf his own nerves. He’d been running for so long, it had lost its sting, but this town had given him enough close calls for the sting to jab at him again. If he hadn’t just crawled through what smelled like death itself he would start biting his nails all over again.

The nerves of the boys were cut short by the distant sound of a horse neigh from around the corner of the wall. Jonatan’s eyes widened slightly as he realised what was going on, and where exactly they were. He recognised this part of the wall from that time he and Brick snuck out when they were younger to try and learn to make wine. They were near the main road out of the town, which meant they were near the forest.

But the sounds of carriages also meant they were close to people who, in all likelihood, wanted them dead, which wasn’t good for morale.

Jasper, put his hands on his blades, crouched by the corner, and peered around. Jonatan joined him, using his extra height to try (and fail) to stay out of Jasper’s way.

The only road out of the town was completely occupied by half a dozen carriages, each needing 4 horses to pull, bigger and more extravagant than most of the single floor houses Jonatan had ever seen. Each one looked as if it was competing to be more expensive than each other, with satin curtains and gilded trims on their wheels. Jonatan had a newfound respect for the horses that had to pull all that ego.

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“They’re here already.” Jasper hissed, lightly punching the wall. “We can’t get past them now. Damn it, damn it.” Jasper ran his hands through his hair, his face screwed tight in thought.

“Can’t we just make a break for it when the carriages get through the wall?” Jonatan kept an eye on the gaudy display of power and wealth. “The guards will be busy welcoming them and maybe won’t be keeping an eye out.”

“It’s not the guards that will catch us now.” Jasper cursed under his breath. He grabbed Jonatan by the shoulder and pulled him round the corner. “We have no idea where their eyes are now, and we can’t move, or they’ll find us easily.”

“What are you so antsy about? If we go now we can…” Jonatan started to word a poorly formed plan, but was cut off by a piercing sound of an owl shriek in the air.

The air above them was filled with a cloud of small creatures, flying high above them, maybe ten in total just where they could see. They began circling the town uniformly, moving as one mind.

“They brought that many owls? What for?” Jonatan had always found owls a bit weird, but now they were creeping him out a bit too much.

“They’re familiars.” Jasper whispered, his purple gaze sharp and focussed. “Everything they see, hear or smell, their master knows. If they haven’t spotted us already, they will soon.”

Jonatan’s mind couldn’t quite grasp how that worked, but he wouldn’t get anything by thinking about things above his level. So he decided to look at it differently. If these people were anything like Sylvia, then they were stuck up, self-obsessed and very confident in their own powers. Which means that they would expect only the best reception from the town.

A terrible idea formed in his mind, one that even he wouldn’t do because of how terribly it could go. He grabbed Jasper’s arm, meeting his hard gaze with his own.

“I think I have an idea. It won’t stop them, but it might slow them a bit.”

“Please tell me it’s not just make a run for it.” Jasper pleaded.

Jonatan stood to his full height, jogged back a few steps along the wall and started searching the ground for a rock of suitable size.

“Tell me when the last carriage gets in the gates, and when they close. I’m going to break their windows.” Jonatan tossed aside a few pebbles.

“Are you serious? There’s no way that that’s going to do anything!” Jasper shook his head at the absurd idea.

“Trust me, if I can break a window three blocks away with a bar stool after half a barrel of ale, I can hit a carriage with a rock completely sober.” Jonatan found a rock about the size of his head, heavy and cumbersome. He tossed it aside. “Just trust me, its either that or wait till we get caught. This way we might be able to get them to think we’re inside for a bit.”

Jasper looked like he wanted to complain but after a heavy sigh, he kept a close eye on the wizards. The rocks that surrounded the walls were all weird, but he’d found some good throwing ones before, makes sense he’d find another.

“The last on is in.” Jasper whispered, casting an eye back. Jonatan’s hand wrapped around the perfect throwing stone, besides the mud on it.

“Thanks a bunch.” A smile tugged at the corner of Jonatan’s mouth. He took a few steps back from the wall, stretching his arm as he did so.

“The gates are closed.” Jasper’s voice was more urgent than before.

Jonatan visualised the carriages, their speed, the houses that surrounded them that he had grown up in, and the gaps between them. He reeled his hand back, tensing his muscles, testing his grip. He hopped back a few meters, then skipped forward.

The rock flew from his hand, whistling through the air clear over the wall, disappearing from sight and mind, never to be seen again.

It was however, to be heard again, as the sound of shattering glass echoed out, followed by a loud, very pompous shriek from an unknown wizard. The owls above their heads went in a small frenzy, losing their concentration.

With nary a word exchanged between them, Jonatan and Jasper started sprinting towards the forest, their running accompanied by the shouts of voices behind the walls and the confused shrieks of the owls above them.

“I’m so glad I didn’t miss.” Jonatan laughed to himself, half relief, half disbelief.

“I thought you said you had it under control!” Jasper scowled at him, shaking his head.

“I never have anything under control, but it worked didn’t it?” Jonatan’s face broke into a grin.

Jasper just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as they sprinted to the forest. It was a few hundred meters until they reached the treeline, and they were making good progress, which surprised Jonatan, who still wasn’t used to running quite this fast.

The good news ended shortly however, as the owls recovered within ten seconds, and quickly spotted the two sprinting boys, all ten diving towards them with dozens more flying from the other sides of the town.

“Fantastic. I can’t deal with that many!” Jasper drew his blades, tapped them together and swiped them in the direction of the familiars, sending one flying to the ground, where it turned to dust from the small shockwave.

“Hey! We don’t have to kill them!” Jonatan complained, the thought of taking any life was one he didn’t want to think about.

“They don’t die, just lose their form for an hour or so. Then again they’re not really alive anyway.” Jasper sheathed one blade, taking a knife from his belt and sent it twirling at another owl, leaving more shimmering dust in its wake.

Jonatan had an idea.

“They’re not alive right?” Jonatan unslung his lute from his back.

“Yeah but they sure act like they are, why?” Jasper sliced an owl that got too close into pieces.

“Hide as soon as we get into the trees!” Jonatan smiled, and made sure his lute was still in relatively good tune.

They reached the treeline, tall and ancient oaks creating a thick and dark landscape that could just as easily he and Jasper as a complete bandit troupe. Jasper leapt behind one of the larger trees, tumbling deftly into a small hole created by its roots. Jonatan on the other hand, span on his heel and faced the familiars head on, closed his eyes, and made a silent plea that this would work.

The song that he played back when he first fixed this lute had made both his parents unresponsive for a while, he hoped it would do something useful to the familiars. The music filled his mind, and his fingers danced excitedly but gently over the strings, a powerful lullaby spreading out through the air.

The shrieks around him immediately stopped, and his eyes were shocked open at the sound of an owl crashing into a tree, turning into magical powers immediately after. Then another, and another, and another. Soon he was standing in the middle of an un-forecasted owl downpour, as all the familiars that were chasing him fell to the ground and disintegrated. Even some of the ones that were nowhere near the forest line just disappeared.

The rest of the owl-cloud instantly turned around and flew higher, keeping their distance from Jonatan, their glowing beady eyes burning down on him. Jonatan responded by dramatically bowing, then running back to meet Jasper. When he got there, he found Jasper with his eye glazed over.

“Hey. Hey! Up you get, Berry.” Jonatan tapped Jasper’s cheek. He blinked, looking around a bit confused.

“Did you…just put me to sleep?” Jasper stood up, looking at Jonatan in disbelief. “What about the familiars?”

“Either napping or nowhere near us.” Jonatan held his thumb up, a proud smile on his face.

Jasper didn’t say anything to that, but just stared in shock.

“You haven’t been trained, have you?” Jasper managed.

“Not that I know of. Why, was that impressive?” Jonatan tilted his head.

“Yes. Something that size…only a master could do that.” Jasper looked out to where the other owls were keeping back from, his eye widening further.

Jonatan had no idea what that meant, or its significance, so simply replied with a shrug. Jasper turned back to him, his mouth no longer wide open but his eye still surprised, as if he were looking at a ghost.

“Let’s go, but we need to talk when we can.” Jasper started walking through the dark forest, keeping the brighter road on their right side. “If that wasn’t a fluke, then you might be one of the strongest of us.”

***

Leaving behind the quiet inn, the halfling slung her quiver and arrows over her back, making sure all was secure, then dashing into the glum darkness of the forest. The Wizard carriages had passed through last night, and if she was right, her prey was close behind them. She sniffed the air, closed her emerald eyes, and felt the breeze on her face. Then she felt it, a crack in the world form nearly a mile away to the East.

She raised an eyebrow in minor confusion.

“What’s there to find in Mirth? Isn’t that just a backwater party town?” She shook the questions out of her head and started stealing through the undergrowth, following the feeling of the cracks in reality.

Not that she needed to, she could smell the Cleric’s perfume from countries away anyway.