Gideon strode along, humming to himself. Jet marched alongside him, back ramrod straight, shoulders square. Gideon’s tome sat on Jet’s hip, once more strapped safely out of the man’s reach. The townsfolk slowly got back to life around them, startled away by the sudden descent of the lesser dragon, but unwilling to completely hunker down for the day. A little more gold jangled in Jet’s pocket, the result of the sale of the dragon.

Gideon glanced at Jet, then stuck out his hand. “Gideon Nightfellow, ‘s what they call me.”

“Er?” Jet asked, confused.

“We haven’t been formally introduced,” Gideon explained.

Now he cares about social mores? Jet sighed internally, but took the offered hand. “Jethro Glacis. Call me Jet.”

Gideon smirked at him. “You want to know why they call me Nightfellow?”

“Not really,” Jet admitted.

“Oh. Well, alright then.”

They walked on in silence. Shops appeared amidst the homes, a few taverns, a baker, a tailor. Gideon cast a longing look at the tailor and let out a few pointed sighs, falling back as they passed by, all of which Jet ignored. At last, Gideon jogged up alongside him.

“I killed that dragon, you know.”

“I know.”

“So… where’s my cut?” Gideon asked.

“You’re a prisoner. I control the purse.” Jet returned.

“The purse can’t be opened for a few new robes?” Gideon probed.

Jet glanced from the corner of his eyes at Gideon. “We have a long journey ahead of us. We need to be thrifty, not waste our money on fine goods.”

“Fine goods! My clothes are rags. Anything would be better,” Gideon moaned.

Jet cast a long look over Gideon. Although his robes were ripped and ruined, they were still made of fine fabric, and held together at the seams. The gold ornamentation had mostly been torn off, and the decorative bangles and cords were gone, but the undershirt and trousers remained intact. He shrugged. “You look fine to me.”

Gideon wrinkled his nose. “Soldiers. As long as I’m not naked I’m fine, is that it?”

Jet nodded.

“You weren’t supposed to agree! That was exaggeration!” Gideon returned, exasperated.

“Come on. Let’s go to the library already,” Jet sighed.

Gideon hesitated, then scowled. “Alright, don’t blame me. You made me do this!”

“I made you do… what?” Jet turned around.

Tearing the cloak off, Gideon tossed it into the street. He reached for his robes and peeled them off, then grabbed at the undershirt. “As long as I’m not naked, it’s fine?”

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“Whoa, whoa. Hey now,” Jet said, reaching for the pendant. Still, his thumb hesitated over the magic circle. It’s not like he’s done anything evil, and yet…

Dropping the undershirt and robes to the ground, Gideon reached for his pants, untying the binding cord. “Fine. If you’re going to push me, then I’ll do what I have to! I need new robes!”

Jet jabbed the pendant on instinct, flinching away. Gideon shouted with surprise and released his grip on his pants. Without the cord to hold them up, they slid to his ankles.

The townsfolk around them gasped. The women turned away, hiding their faces behind their hands. The men grimaced and averted their eyes.

Having already been forced to lose his pants, Gideon kicked out of them, piling them with the robes and his undershirt. He only wore worn beneath, practically nude except for the thin boxers, a necklace, the iron collar, and a pair of worn boots.

Jet knelt and grabbed Gideon's cloak, holding it out toward the man to cover him. Through clenched teeth, he grit, “Put your clothes back on!”

Gideon trembled in fury. He stepped away from Jet, escaping the reaches of his cloak. “No!”

“Put them on this minute, or else…”

“Or else, what? Are you going to… punish me? Are you into punishing undressed men?” Gideon asked, giving Jet a disgusted look.

“You!” Jet spluttered. He reached out again, grabbing Gideon by the arm.

Gideon danced close and slapped a hand on the tome at Jet’s hip. With his other hand, he pointed at his clothes. “Lightning!”

A lightning bolt detonated on the piled clothes, burning them to ash.

Jet stared. “You… you really…”

Gideon looked up at him, a pitiful look on his face. “Jet, I don’t have any clothes. I need new clothes, or I’ll have to go in nothing but my underthings. What are we going to do?”

This time, it was Jet’s turn to tremble in fury. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. “You destroyed your own damn clothes! That’s not my fault!”

“It’s not, but Jet, are you really going to let your prisoner walk around almost naked? Look at the townsfolk. They’re absolutely scandalized. Think of what they’re going to say. ‘Oh, the army makes their prisoners walk around nearly nude? The kingdom can’t even afford clothes for one man?’ We don’t want that, Jet. Please? Just a few new robes? It won’t even cost that much.”

Jet whirled and marched into the tailor shop. “Just this once. If you ever try to pull shit like this again…”

“Me? Never,” Gideon pledged, his eyes innocent. Still, he couldn’t suppress a grin as he darted out to grab his cloak and follow Jet into the tailor shop.

The tailor’s eyes widened at the sight of his poorly-dressed customer, but when Jet handed over the coins, his demeanor turned professional in a heartbeat. Jet waited outside, and finally, Gideon emerged in a simple pair of trousers and a white shirt.

“You’re done?” Jet asked, weary.

“Oh, these? These are my new underclothes. He had some on hand in my size, so he gave them to me. The robe should be done in a few hours. Let’s go to the library while we wait,” Gideon said, as if nothing had ever happened.

Saying a silent apology to whoever’s underclothes they’d usurped at the tailor’s, Jet pushed off the wall. “The library.” He can’t do anything too outrageous there. It should be fine.

“The library,” Gideon sang back happily, draping the cloak over his shoulders once more.

They continued down the street, Jet’s head on a swivel, searching for a library. At last, he spotted it. A grand building with a stone façade, sporting a statue of the goddess of wisdom reclining nude with a scroll at its peak, it stood apart from the clutter of the other buildings like a noble amidst peasants. Although nowhere near the scale of the Grand Library, it still stood out as an impressive structure on its own.

Jet gaped up at it. For a city this small, that’s a huge library. “I had no idea Blotting had such a large library.”

“The baron’s grandfather… great-grandfather? was a literary man. Amassed such a collection of books that they overflowed his personal library and study both. Fed up with storing his books, his wife forced him to build a separate, public library to house them all, or so the legend goes,” Gideon said, gazing up at the building.

“That’s… a lot of books,” Jet murmured.

“The legend goes on to claim that he built the library so big because that way he’d have an excuse to keep collecting books, in order to fill the library. What a man,” Gideon chuckled, shaking his head.

“Did he?” Jet asked.

Gideon glanced at him.

“Fill the library, that is,” Jet explained.

“Only one way to find out.” Gideon stepped forward and pushed the doors open.