Within the dark and secluded alleyway, entirely detached from the grand splendour of the rest of Dreamcity – only stillness lingered ever so peacefully. The air was cold yet sweet, like honey nectar being foraged yet only at night – a gift blessed upon this only. Stelie has never had much chance to bask in the pleasures of the City of Colours – she was much more accustomed to the capital of Xearth, where she grew up, and the Eastern Land, where the heart of the Firstkind laid fortressed.

I used to pray for times like this… Stelie mumbled as she pressed her hands together, with a broom lying between her palms. Even if it was merely a temporary refuge offered to them by a generous host, it wouldn’t sit right with her not to keep the brothel and its bearings tidy from time to time. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.

It won’t be long before it happens… Stelie pondered as she swept away the dust, rubbish, and dead leaves littering the entrance of the empty alley. Her shoulder still ached slightly from the time she got struck by the arrow from the Heart Commander. It had been a few days since they’d laid low in Dreamcity – but it’d soon come for them to commence Frou’s peculiar plan and regroup with the rest of their force.

That ought to do for now, Stelie panted as she wiped the sweat off her face with her orange cloth that bore the Firskind’s sigil. The alley was by no means cleaned of filth – but it was a change. With her work finished, she sat on the cobblestone and leaned her back to a wall – taking in the night air would be her sole reward.

Aside from ecliants, none besides mad men would dare to roam under the shroud of night, ‘lest they wished to receive a visit from the Sentinels – but the folks in the City of Colours were hardly sane people. Hopefully, they don’t come here, Stelie had never run into a Sentinel at night before outside of ambush, so she did not know if she’d believe the rumour. Perhaps they were just bedtime stories that mothers read to their babes to scare them to sleep at night – not as though Stelie would know much about it herself.

Rather fine wind tonight for Dreamcity, Stelie breathed out gently, her body lightening and mind emptying under the soft breeze and fair moonglow – she had it all to enjoy for herself.

The last few nights were bustling with parties and planning, but now, most of the rescued prisoners have either decided to join the Firstkind or made a gamble to return to their homes from afar. Under the night and outside of sight, Stelie clasped her palms together and murmured a verse to Ark – praying for their good fortune, but Ark could only do so much.

Her belly was grumbling, and its obscene noise was reverberating throughout the whole alley, luckily, there was no one around to hear it. After all, she had given most of her own provisions to people who had departed away despite her comrades’ protest. A tinkle of warmth blessed her heart, thinking that her efforts may help them reach their home – after all, it was expected of her.

The times spent with others were precious, but ambling alone at times was too something that Stelie cherished dearly. She took in a last lungful of the cold air before her fleeting break came to an end, and it ever so slightly eased her stress and worries for the coming days. She patted the dirt off her garments and picked up her broom – her hind still wished to plant itself on the ground for hours on end.

As she leisurely walked back to the Love Machines, the sight of two familiar shadows emerging out of the brothel at the end of the alleyway caught her eyes. Evens? What is he doing at this time? Stelie thought as she glanced from afar at the scarry lad and his iron dog tiptoeing outside and carefully closing the brothel’s door – a rather curious sight to see from such a normally feisty young man. She still remembered the dishevelled state he was in when she first found him, yet he was now already strong enough to walk out and about on his own – it’s hard to find such resilience, even amongst steelmen.

The sneaky boy began to creep down the dark pathway, emptied of the usual guards stationed throughout it. Yet before he could take even two steps away from the brothel, the door to it opened once more, but this time from the inside. Another figure emerged, though this time it was not nearly as maimed and dreary as Evens but gaudy and extravagant instead.

“Where ya’ going, Evens boy?” the Chief stepped out of the brothel and into the shadow as her long dark cloak flapped along the wind – it was a wonder that she did not find it uncomfortable to adorn that rag all the time.

Like a toddler who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Evens froze still like a statue before creakily twisting his body back. “Didn’t your Centum masters teach you that it’s unwise for a rebel leader of all people to keep baring herself out in the open as if she no more than a mere public figure?” jeered Evens.

Scrapped laid down on the dirt with its belly up, and began to roll back and forth like a log – as if it was offering itself in place of its master.

“Didn’t ya’ mommy teach ya’ it’s dangerous to wander outside at night? Ya’ want the spooky steelman to burn your books and toys?” goaded Frou.

“I do hope they’d tell me if they could find any,” Evens retorted. “Unlike you ecliants, I was not so fortunate with such trivial luxuries,” he grinned widely, yet the smile felt hollow.

“Ya’ say that, but nowadays, not many of even the noblest of ecliants would have a Servicebot of all things as their personal nanny. O’ I wonder how you’ve found yourself in the possession of such a relic of the past.” Frou sneered. If Stelie remembered right, the Servicebot was once an invention of Newspecs, but it was soon discontinued and scrapped as the Centum Order found it too hard to maintain them, and after all, it was far easier to pawn their labours over to fresh humans, and steelborns instead.

Evens did not seem to have an answer to that. His face seemed troubled as his brown eyes flustered wildly and his scarry body turned prickly.

I better intervene before their pesky squabble turns worse, Stelie sighed. She raised her arm up and waved at them from the entrance of the alleyway; she doubted that they would be able to see her under the thick shroud of night unless she shouted out to them. “Hey, you two. Will you both give it a re–” Before she could finish her callout, Stelie stopped herself and pointed her broom forward as if it was a spear – having sighted something, or perhaps someone, in the corner of her eye.

The three stooges – Owlem, Rupert, and Blueyard were hiding in a corner by Stelie’s side, and their eyes were wholly focused on Frou and the fourth missing stooge.

What are they doing? Stelie thought fleetingly as she laid down her soft spear, yet that was quickly overshadowed by a rush of embarrassment. How long have they been here? Stelie frantically tried to hide away her reddened face, and she struck her own stomach as if that would somehow stop it from growling any further.

The boys didn’t seem to care too much about Stelie’s nervous rant and instead silently beckoned to Stelie – she knew those gestures all too well.

You want me to watch it with you? Stelie gestured back at them.

Together, they held their thumbs up and nodded their heads flippantly.

Fine, I’ll make an exception this one time, Stelie sighed as she carefully snuck to their side and hid with them, ensuring that Frou and Evens would not hear or see her. She’d normally never eavesdrop on others, but she’d overlook it this once, for those lads, too, overlooked her own gaffe. Besides, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t also curious as to why Frou decided to secretly meet Evens, of all people.

“Do you really mean to leave? Without your friends at that?” asked Frou from a distance, capturing the attention of the lurking meddlers back to their conversation.

Evens did not answer at first, as glitters of sweat could be seen trailing down his tanned skin. “Why does it matter to you I what do? Didn’t you say I was free to go as I please? Or were those just pretty lies to impress your slaves, and now you’d just cut off any loose ends?” Evens chuckled nervously.

“Ya’ still think I care whether ya’ a rat or not?” the Chief tilted her head as she asked, with her eyepatch nearly slipping off.

“What do you mean?”

Frou seemed to shake her head in disappointment. “No doubt half of the folks we’ve taken in oughta’ be spies from the Order, whether of their own volition or otherwise. Hell, ya’ may be one yourself,” laughed Frou.

“Get to the point,” Evens clenched his teeth.

“Everyone is free to do as they please, and I, too, will do as I please. If you do mean to snitch out on us to the blacks or blues – well, let’s just say that your predecessors haven’t been so lucky.” Even when staring at her from afar, Stelie could still see her golden glare clearly, as if it were daytime.

“That a threat? You’d kill me if I speak?” scoffed Evens.

“Kill ya’? Who do ya’ think I am? My brother?” Frou pressed her gloved hand to her chest, actually sounding hurt at Evens’s remark. “Nah, I just don’t think you’d find much success in revealing anything at all. No one here knows anything much at all besides me, of course.” Frou never ceased to take an opportunity to praise herself. Even then, Stelie could hardly disagree. Stelie had known Frou for ages, even before the Firstkind was established, yet she could still never truly grasp what goes behind that golden eye and eyepatch of hers.

“Forget it. I wasn’t going to speak anyway – you at least have my word on that. Not as though I’d have much to say regardless,” sighed Evens.

“I’m glad we were able to settle that matter on amicable terms,” the Chief grinned from ear to ear. “But if I may be so bold to ask – why would you leave then?” asked Frou with an innocent gaze. “I’ll admit you’ve done well enough for a human to recover so quickly, but I doubt, even with your strength, it’d be enough to journey all the way back to Screwpile – with no friends to guard your back, no food to stuff your belly, and no arks to fill your pocket.” She glanced up and down at the empty-handed lad.

“I’ll die trying, I suppose.” A valiant claim, yet his shaken voice was not convincing anyone.

“To go that far…” Frou sighed gently. “Do you have someone waiting for you back there?”

Like a mute, Evens once more held no answer to Frou’s relentless questioning.

“Don’t worry, I already know the answer,” chuckled Frou. “That Owl boy sang like a canary – but for all that he spilt, it was only for your sake, it’d seem. He’s a good friend ya’ have there.”

Is that so? Stelie looked down at Owlem, only to find the bald lad was slightly blushing over his swart skin.

Evens didn’t seem to appreciate much of his friend’s consideration as his eyes slanted and his tongue clicked. “There you have it then. You have all my secrets to flaunt as you like. May I request to leave now?” requested Evens tiredly.

“Depends. Is this request of your own wishes?” Frou’s smirk was illumined over by the moonlight.

Evens’s silence persisted as he glared down at Frou like a preying beast.

“However strange they may appear – at least your friends’ decisions were true to them.” Frou sighed before pointing it out. “But I can’t seem to quite put my finger on your case. You’re like a puppet, fashioned from scraps and marionetted by strings, with no wants nor needs of your own.” Obstinate as ever, the Chief decided to lecture him now of all time.

“Awfully big talk for someone who’s only known me for a few days.” Evens’s tone mustered up hints of poise.

“I do not need to be in bed with ya’ to know, Evens boy. I’ve known and met folks like you my entire life, and none of them have ever broken such a simple curse.” As if she had put on another one of her acts, the Chief’s voice turned sullen and grey.

“Geez, you really were a trouper, weren’t you? Not a single damn word out of your mouth seems to make any sense.” Evens swallowed his breath as he jeered.

“Then let me put it simpler so even a dunce like you would understand,” Frou smiled wryly. “Do you wish to return home because you want to as a noble son or because you have to as a dithering child?” tested Frou.

“That’s not any simpler at all.”

“But you do get it.”

Evens hesitated for a moment as his body was seemingly stuck in place by invisible chains. “Even if I wanted to, what possible reasons would there be for me to stay?” the tense lad gulped his own words.

“I don’t know.” Frou shrugged her shoulders flippantly. “But in times, a purpose may eventually come. While on the other hand, there are no real reasons as to why you should return. Even your mother did not wish for that, didn’t she?” Frou raised her hand gloved in black and pointed her finger down at Evens’s cloak.

“You sly knave…” Evens cursed as he grasped onto his pocket, where a bulge akin to that of crumpling parchment could be seen underneath it.

“I’ve been accused of wearing many masks and names, but that was a new one,” Frou burst out into a fit of dry laughter.

Evens sighed and ruffled his dark hair, outwardly worn out from reasoning with the demented woman before him “Why do you even care so much? Whether I join or not should hardly put a dent in your pretentious cause.”

“Pretentious? You wound me, Evens boy,” wept Frou hammily, though only for a moment. “But in spite of your crudely misplaced sentiment about my pedigree, I, on the other hand, have a great deal of respect for you. After all, it is rare for someone, let alone a human, to survive a bout against my brother.”

Against her brother? Stelie was taken aback – she had not heard of that story. The only brothers whom Frou had left were Nine, Six, and Five – and amongst those three, only a bout against that loathsome Prime Sentinel would be considered a noteworthy achievement. So he pitted heads with that monster and survived? Stelie sweated, her fair fleece trembling with delight and dander at just the mere thought of that man.

“So those fools revealed that as well?” mumbled Evens as his face twitched slightly.

Stelie looked back to the three lads, only to find Rupert and Owl sweating and blinking restlessly.

“I’d hardly call that a bout, though,” claimed Evens, humbly enough.

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“Call it what ya’ want. To that hard-headed brute, everything’s a fight.” The Chief scoffed at a man who was not there. “Besides, it’s not only me that appreciates it either. A lot of my men drank themselves silly upon hearing that ya’ managed to land a blow upon the mighty Prime Sentinel,” laughed Frou. “The day we cast down that tyrant of an ecliant would truly be wondrous for all humans and steelborns of Xearth.”

Truly so… Stelie clenched her fist tightly, she could feel her nails digging into her palms. The dark night over her head seemed to be enveloped by memories of flames and the cries of children – and they vanished just as fast as they once did. Calm down, Stelie… She steeled her mind and prayed to Ark for her heart to stop beating so wildly.

“So is that the sole reason you lots want me to stick around?” asked Even with blushing cheeks.

“Yeah. That not enough?” answered Frou with an innocent look.

“Of course not!” Evens scolded the tactless chief, flipping off an imaginary table.

“Really? This is proving much more trying than I thought,” Frou scratched her chin, having exhausted all of her options – before clapping her palms. “Mind chiming in then, lads and lassie?” Her call echoed throughout the empty alley, awakening what little souls resided left in this dark burrow – as her one eye of gold twisted back to the entrance of the alley, meeting the auburn eyes of Stelie directly.

Damn it… Caught and shamed, Stelie dragged herself and the three punks out of hiding and meekly braved towards her chief – the shameful walk gave her enough time to remember why she hated eavesdropping so much.

“Good evening, Miss Frou. My apologies for our meddling,” the polite Rupert was the only one to bow his head, while Owl held his tongue in contempt, and Blueyard was aloof to it all and found more enjoyment in petting Scrapper’s belly.

When reunited with his friends, Evens, too, did not speak a word and instead faced down to the shadowy ground.

“Don’t pain yer’ back apologising o’er this. It’s not as though we’re gossiping anything serious,” Frou calmed the lad down. “But I must say – it’s rather strange for ya’ of all people to be doing something so shameful, Stel,” she smirked at Stelie.

“My apologies. It wouldn't happen again.” Stelie answered.

“No, no. By all means – do let it happen again. Pray that it’d shave off that brown nose of yours,” squinted Frou with glee. “Well then, my fine gents and lady – what verdicts would ya’ folks be bestowing upon our little stowaway here?” Like the orator of a play, the Chief spoke out to her small audience.

Evens was the first to toss his arms in the air and squander this farce of a trial. “Enough of this shit already. They have nothing to do with my–”

“Stay,” Rupert spoke, and all listened wordlessly, not even the creaky rustles in the night air could shadow his sincere voice.

“What? No! Don’t listen to Peg! Leave! Get out of here!” Owlem retaliated, his voice was brisk and filled with vigour as if it was a direct offence to him instead.

Please don’t start this again… Stelie sighed in silence, but she felt as though Evens, too, shared in her sentiment.

As they have been doing ever since they arrived at Dreamcity, the two boys traded arguments in circles, never yielding an inch against the other. All Stelie, Evens, and Blueyard could do was uphold silence while circling the two combative brats as if they were watching a gladiator bout – a very noisy and wordy bout at that.

“Alright, that’s enough out of ya’ both,” Frou lastly stepped in between the squabbling duo, if she hadn’t, no doubt they’d have kept going until the next morn. “The fervour is much appreciated. But please, at least let the star of the act, too, speak his heart.” She glanced back at the quiet Evens; his face was pensive as if he would wish for nothing more than to leave and retire away the accursed night.

“Be quick about it, Evens. She wouldn’t let you go until you do,” Stelie offered a word of advice from many years of having to deal with Frou’s antics.

Stelie never took a rough-looking lad such as Evens to be so meek and mopey – yet there he was, musing in his own dream world and making others have to wait for him as if he was a king.

The foreboding husk at last found the courage to move his mouth. “Rupert, why do you want to stay? Don’t you have Ruby waiting for you?” asked Evens with a deadpan face.

“I don’t know what else to say. I’ll do more good here for my sister than I would back home.” Rupert uttered softly.

“Is that all?”

“That is all.”

Owlem interrupted Rupert’s piece and lunged himself at the one-legged lad. “Bullshit! Stop lying! Ya’ were the one who once wanted to leave the most–”

“Owl, why do you want to return? Who is there left waiting for you there?” asked Evens, still with a deadpan face.

“What did you say?” Owlem stuttered as his eyes twitched creepily. Stelie had never seen the boy so angry since he arrived in Dreamcity. The enraged lad pushed Rupert back and went after Evens instead, violently gripping him by the collars, yet Evens didn’t seem to fight back. “So ya’ really going there?” he spat at Evens. “I don’t give a shit if I have no one to welcome me home – that’s my home, asshole.” Owlem cursed, yet it felt sorrowful. “And that’s your home as well. Miss Num had no obligation to nurture your sorry ass, yet she did it anyway. So be a man and do right by the people who did right by ya’!” he released Evens from his grip.

“You don’t know anything about her…” Evens murmured as he fixed his collars.

“Well, if you do – then make a goddamn decision already!”

“I don’t know!”

“Time out.” Like a gust of wind, the Chief spawned amidst their squabble and separated the two with her gloved hands. “What did I just say, Owl boy? Keep yer’ temper,” she asked, but Owlem merely dodged her orb. “And you too, Evens boy. Ya’ friend cares for ya’ so cool off on the hardass act.”

The scarry lad smacked Frou’s hand aside. “You’re the one who brought them out, so why blame me?” moped Evens. Stelie had seen children who acted less spoiled than him.

“You’re right; it is my fault. So allow me to reprise my duty then,” Frou lamented before bobbing a pristine curtsy under the moonlight – her golden orb, the colour of an Archetype, blessed its sheen unto Evens. “Evens, what do you want to do?” Her question asked, simply and gently.

“First order of things, I want to get out of here and leave all of this crap behind me,” sneered Evens.

“Not that. What do you want to do with your life?”

“What kind of question even is that? You my teach or something?” he chuckled nervously.

No matter how hard Evens tried to deny and elude it, Frou’s warm gaze soon melted his icy act.

Evens’s brown eyes traced up and down frantically while pondering in his jumbled mind – he made it seem as if he was a Harford scholar answering a test question. “I don’t know. As far as I have known, there’s nothing really that I fancy,” he shook his head dully.

“You’re not fooling any of us, Evens boy. Be honest with us.” Like a Harford professor, Frou would not let Evens step down without an answer.

With blushed cheeks, Evens swallowed his breath and retracted his lips. “I don’t know… I enjoy journeying, I suppose. Seeing new things, making new things. Not as though I’ve had much chance, growing up in Screwpile and all.” The grim boy mumbled, his lips barely moving and his eyes unwilling to meet any others.

“Then do you think you could achieve that dream when the world is chained by the Centum Order?”

Frou’s question dawned upon not only Evens but it’d seem to the other lads, too, as they all fell in silence. The only sound to be heard was from Scrapper licking his paws without any care at all for his master’s torment. My dream… Stelie, too, pondered it, the question she had heard many times before, yet she had still not found the answer to it.

“Silver-tongued crone. Do you say these to everyone?” Evens clicked his tongue as sweat trailed down his forehead – it seemed he had found his match.

“I say different things to everyone,” smirked Frou. “So what says you?”

Like clockwork, Evens turned mute once more with no answer to give. The poor boy could not make a single decision, and the night was passing them by. As if his pensiveness was a disease, his friends and pet, too, succumbed to dullness, and they held their tongues and breaths like statues, awaiting for Evens to speak at last.

“This was fun at first, but it’s getting rather dull. Don’t ya’ think?” the lanky Blueyard lowered his head and whispered to Stelie’s ear.

“I’m amazed you even managed to find any amusement at all from this,” Stelie whispered back so as not to ruin the tension.

“I’m afraid I’ve seen far drearier things in my life, My Lady,” his smile was eery and lifeless like a scarecrow. “What do you make of all this? Should patch-lad stay, or should patch-lad leave?”

“My opinion does not matter.”

“I call bollocks! But regardless of how little you think of yourself – we’re at a stalemate right now. So every vote counts.” The ghostly man’s crescent grin, revealing his rotten teeth, sent shivers down Stelie’s spine.

“Even if you put it that way – I do not know what to choose either.”

“Surely you jest? A girl like you no doubt already has an answer since the beginning.”

“I do not follow.” Stelie scratched her golden head in confusion.

“Do I always need to spell it out for you people?” groaned Blueyard like a frustrated teacher. “Surely someone birthed and cursed with kindness like yourself would not condemn that poor boy to certain death.” His blue pearls gazed ardently at Stelie, and it did not shine for a single moment.

This human… No, perhaps not… Stelie took a step back from the creep, yet it was too late, his words had struck deep into her mind. What is this man trying to say? Stelie mumbled. She had few ideas of what he could mean, yet none of them would make any sense, nor would they matter right now. The silence had gone on for far too long, and even her chief was feeling uneasy as she trembled under her cloak like a toddler who was forced to behave. Fine, I’ll play your game, Stelie huffed in a breath of cold air before stepping in front of Evens.

The lad, who was stuck in deep thought, burst awake when he met with Stelie’s orange eyes before him, they were close enough that Stelie could feel Evens’s breathing.

“Please stay with us.” Stelie pleaded, and the silence broke. Cheers, hisses, laughter, cries, and lamentations could all be heard surrounding her. Regardless of Blueyard’s effort to persuade her – Stelie had already decided to side with her chief since the beginning.

Owlem was the first to jump out of his post and raise his displeasure. “No! Don’t–”

“Let the damn lady speak,” for a one-legged man, Rupert still lunged forward and gagged Owlem’s mouth with his palm.

While his friends were fighting amongst each other, the patched toy being fought over merely stood still in shock, still hadn’t uttered a single word yet. His brown eyes were halfway opened, and so was his mouth – he seemed as if he was stunned in place and died standing.

Ignoring the two nuisances, Stelie kept going and leaned even closer to Evens; their faces were close enough that they could kiss. “Now that you’ve associated yourself with us, it would be far too dangerous for you to roam alone. So, at least for the time being, until this whole mess falls over – stay here.” Though Stelie worded it as such – she did not know if she actually believed it. Perhaps this time, we’d be able to bring him down… Stelie clenched her fist, ensuring not to let the man who fought against the Prime Sentinel out of her grasp.

“How ‘bout that, Evens boy? Surely you would not deny the request from such a fine lady?” Frou stuck her nose into the wrangle; she could not survive even one second without being at the centre of attention.

“If I were to join – may I be stripped of your colours whenever I wish?” mumbled Evens, his voice was so faint that it was eclipsed by his raging heartbeat. Stelie nodded her head firmly without ever yielding her gaze.

The tension in the air filled as everyone awaited Evens’s answer. The tension was so thick that Stelie could sweep it with her broom if she’d like. Not even a single breath nor movement could be heard during those everlasting seconds.

“Fine, I’ll stay – just for now.”

The silence quelled. Rupert and Blueyard erupted into cheers as if they had just won a war – while Owlem sulked by his lonesome, yet he didn’t seem too upset, as if he had already expected Evens’s answer.

This doesn’t feel right… Stelie scratched her head; she found something off from Evens’s response – his words were there, yet the intent was absent. You don’t need to feel in debt to me… Stelie crooned.

“A joyous moment indeed. Welcome aboard, Evens boy!” Frou clapped her hands. “And should I say to you both as well, Owl boy, Blueyard?” she reached both of her hands out to them.

“You know it, boss lady!” Blueyard shook her hand like an obedient pup.

“Damn masked witches. What other choices do I have now?” Owlem reluctantly clung onto her glove. “I’ll stick around until these two fools realise their mistakes.”

“O’ how I love to see such great bonds between friends,” Frou wept dry tears. “No further dawdling. Shall we make it official, Evens boy?” At last, she, too, reached out her hand to Evens.

“I can’t believe the day would come when I lock arms with a steelman and the chief of the Firstkind at that. What has this world truly come to?” Evens’s sigh filled with lament, yet his handshake held firm.

“Really? I mean, ya’ technically owe us steelmen. We did save your life,” Frou tilted her head.

“I don’t remember you saving anyone.”

“Not me – I mean her,” Frou pointed her finger to the side.

Don’t do it, Stelie mumbled.

“She’s a steelborn.”

Damn it, Frou. Do you want them to stay or not? Stelie palmed her own face.

“Is that true, Miss Stelie?” asked Rupert, his voice showing signs of wavers for the first time.

“Yes, but trust me when I say – I want nothing to do with the ecliants.” Stelie declared – it was true then, and it remained true now. “Aside from the Chief, of course.” She glared at Frou’s one eye, contemplating whether she should still uphold her oath to such a tattler.

“How many steelmen do you have in your ranks? Are there even any humans left?” asked Evens.

“Only a few here and there. Do you think we would have survived thus far if we hadn’t banded together?” Frou riposted.

“As if I’d know.”

“Don’t need to crease your forehead and mind the fine details,” the Chief patted Evens’s back. “If it makes your conscience feel better – think of this whole thing as a repayment for one kind’s charity. Surely you wouldn’t be such a gutless craven that you’d not return the favour to this fair maiden who saved your life?” she leered at Stelie, despite having only one eye, it was far more haughty than people with twice what she had.

“Frou…” Stelie glared back at the Chief, who never knew when to hold her tongue – of which she merely smiled giddily as she always does.

“Enough. You’ve already caught me, no further traps needed.” Evens rubbed his creased head; the long night had taken a rather big toll on him, it’d seem. “So what now then? What use would you have us do? After so painstakingly convincing us to stay – surely it would be sometime worthwhile.”

“Of course, of course,” the Chief ambled in a circle and rounded all eyes to her once more. “I need you to go to prison.”

“What?” blurted Evens.

“What?” blurted Owl.

“What?” blurted Rupert.

“What?” blurted Blueyard.

What? Stelie blurted out silently.

Silence descended once more into this accursed alleyway as jaws were left agape and limbs fell limp – it’d seem Sentinels and watchdroids were unneeded to spoil such a beautiful night.

“Why?” Evens enquired, the muscles upon his face twitching at the end of his word, trying his best to hold any semblance of composure left.

“Patience, Evens boy. Like I said, there are imposters among us after all, so there wouldn’t be much I could disclose to you or anyone else, really – not until all the stains besmirched upon our banners are cleansed.” Frou traced her one eye across each person present; her distrustful habit had not changed one bit. “Just follow my orders, and you’ll be fine.” She lightly patted Evens’s back once more.

“Great trust ya’ have in us there,” Owlem took any chance he could get to scoff at Frou.

“I can only put so much trust in folks that are not myself and I. Don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the only ones to brave behind bars. Once you get to the Ironmount, all would become clear in due time.”

“That’s your grand plan? So what do ya’ want us to do? Yield ourselves to the watchers? Or should we commit some petty crimes first to make this stupid act of yours believable?”

“Don’t worry your bald head over it, Owl boy.” The Chief smacked his bald head. “Our informant has sighted several squadrons of Heart Sentinels marching towards Dreamcity and soon would arrive in the coming days.”

“So you’re escaping, right?” queried Rupert.

“I expected such a faithless question from Owl boy, not ya’.” The Chief shook her head like a disappointed mother. “We’ll use the commotion to have you and others infiltrate their ranks – either prisoners or personnel.”

“As if that’d work,” Evens, too, shook his head like an equally disappointed son, having to hear his mom’s crazy drivel.

“Whether it works or not, it doesn’t matter. We can always try again for that.”

“Then why do it then? There must be a safer way to go about this.” Even Rupert had to chime in on Frou’s absurdity.

“This forthcoming encounter isn’t only for your assigned mission,” sighed Frou before lifting her head and arms as if they were wings. “It is a declaration of war.”

“What?” As if he had never seen or heard something so lame before, Evens’s eyes and mouth dropped so low that they could fall off his scarred face.

The Chief flipped back her scruffy dark hair, still adorning her prideful smirk. “We’ve won one ambush. Now we need a spark, a declaration to the world, and rile up the common folk. What better place to start the flame than the City of Colours and Lawless Swine?”

“You’re mental. Just for that, you’d risk your men’s lives?” Owlem gritted his teeth. If not for Blueyard wrapping his arm over the boy’s shoulder, Stelie shuddered to think what impetuous acts he’d have attempted.

“They’d risk their own lives. I offered to them the same choice I did to you – do as you please, and I’ll do the same. If at any point, ya’ want to tuck tail or betray us – by all means.”

The boys could merely squint their eyes and twitch the edge of their mouths at such a vague response. None voiced their concerns any longer nor attempted to dispute against Frou, having learned the futility from it all, the very same that Stelie has learned in her many years acquainted with the Chief.

“What is wrong with your chief?” Evens leaned close and whispered to Stelie.

“I’ve been wondering the same for the last twenty years.” Stelie sighed, she could no longer bother to excuse nor reason Frou’s behaviour.

“Enough of yer’ chattering. Whatever sly schemes ya’ may have – save it for when I’m not there,” Frou declared before stepping back into her spotlight under the moon once more. “O’ how I’ve longed for this. At last – may the play I’ve woven be brought and lit on stage! Bear witness to my denied grandeur, father, brothers, and sisters!” Like an overwrought zealot or demented actor, Frou prayed to an audience in the sky and not the ones by her side.

As Frou laughed maniacally away into the night and her one eye of gold warped crescent as if she had succumbed to pure ecstasy, only one thought crossed Stelie’s mind and no doubt the newcomers as well. Are we the baddies?