"Have you seen this man?" asked Sebastian, tired from his journey and lacking sleep.

The innkeeper took a good, long look at the poster Sebastian was holding before him. He patted his beard and squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at it. "Can't say I have…" he finally said after some consideration. "What is it he's done again?"

"Kidnapping. What about this girl?" Sebastian brought forward a different poster, which didn't look like a wanted poster, but more of a drawing, depicting Annette in an elaborate dress, with a very unimpressed expression.

"...No," replied the innkeeper. "And there is no possibility of her — or any child her age — ever being seen at my establishment. I consider my tavern to be for those with a higher standard of life. Children aren't included in that group," said the innkeeper proudly, his nose held high.

Sebastian turned around, taking in all "those with a higher standard" guests, still sleeping in some chairs — or next to them. Some even decorated their shirts with the food they had eaten. "Is vomit a new style around these parts among the higher stock of residents?" joked Sebastian.

"... I beg your pardon?" asked the innkeep, confused.

"Nevermind," he quickly waved his question away. "If you haven't seen them, then that's all I had to ask. Have a good day, sir."

"Err, right... You too, good traveler."

Sebastian turned and meant to leave, when his stomach rumbled terribly. Putting his hand to it, he finally realized that he hadn't eaten for a whole day. Slightly embarrassed, he returned to the innkeep at the bar and asked for breakfast. The barman seemed somewhat hesitant, for whatever reason, but complied, giving orders to the kitchen maid to start preparing food.

----------------------------------------

"Ahh…" grunted Keziah. "Fuck. Him again." He put his head away from the door and started to pace around the room.

"How did he know where we are?" asked Annette, trying to hide the panic that was brewing slowly inside her.

"From that conversation, it looked more like chance that he happened to be here. Figuring out that we went to Sylio wouldn't actually be that hard, now that I think about it. It was the best choice of direction, but also the most obvious one."

"Well… what are we going to do? He is just… sitting there now. He may not know that we are here, but we can't leave, and we have a ship to board," said Annette.

"...why didn't he use his authority to question the barman?" Keziah ignored Annie to keep pacing and musing aloud. "He didn't strike me as the type to pass on an opportunity to remind someone about the military rank structure… He didn't even give his title — what was it? A lieutenant or something?"

"Captain, and I struggle to see how that's relevant, Kez," reprimanded Annette. "When is the ship leaving? Maybe we could wait for him to leave?"

"What time is it?"

"Seven," said Annette after looking at her pocket watch, the one valuable thing that she took with her from the Palace.

"Useful thing, that," pointed Keziah.

"Yeah, yeah, back on track, please."

"The Captain mentioned something about half past seven…" He put his hand to his chin, scratching it.

"Then we have to go now!" Annette scrambled frantically. "How can you be so calm?"

"Experience."

"Experience with a dangerous individual blocking your path by eating breakfast?"

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"Yeah."

"... Of course, because why not?" Annette threw her hands in the air. "Anything from that 'experience' that can help us now?"

"Mhm, we find another way out."

Annette looked around l, then back at Keziah. "There is only one door, and I doubt that this inn has any secret passages."

"What do you mean by one? There are at least two that are already nearly aced for us, and countless that we could make if we had to."

"What are you—"

Annette was stopped in her question when she noticed Keziah walking up to the window and then his idea dawned on her. "You don't mean…"

"I mean exactly that," quickly cut her off Keziah. "Grab your things and let's go."

Keziah followed his own advice and quickly grabbed his bag, stuffed whatever he had into it, and headed for the window again. By the nightstand, he also took Augustus and put him on his back, on the baldric. It was loose enough that it didn't feel awkward while moving around with a coat underneath it.

He preferred to have a sword on his hip rather than on his back, but the size of Augustus didn't allow for carrying it in such a way. When he strapped him to his waist, Augustus would scrape the ground whenever the ground was even slightly uneven. Augustus's almost extreme curvature made it at least possible, but it wasn't enough to warrant that method. Keziah wished that when they finally bond, the sword's size would decrease. Possibly even change the shape altogether, as he was never really a horseman, so sabers couldn't shine with their slashing in his hands.

It still was a great sword. Not many warriors have experience fighting against something like that so the advantage was always on Keziah's side when it came to knowing an enemy. He grew quite proficient with the saber over the years but still preferred something that he could stab with. His speed and reflexes were his main strength, so parrying and quick stab attacks would come in handy. Unfortunately, it was rather hard to do with Augustus's shape. His strengths complemented Augustus in other ways, but it always felt like he had to adjust, instead of doing it instinctively.

"Ready?" he asked Annette.

"Yes," she answered, her bag on her back. She held the straps of the bag in the front as if scared it would fall. "I've always wanted to break a leg jumping from 30 feet high."

"It's not that high, and don't worry about breaking your legs. I can always carry you the rest of the way."

"Real comforting." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, with the way you seem to like to carry people, I might get more bones broken."

"... Weren't you passed out then?"

"Kinda, but still conscious enough to feel being tossed like a sack of grain," complained Annette.

"Well, then you know that it's better to not break your leg than to do it."

"That's…" she paused and shook her head. "Ah, whatever, let's go."

Keziah smiled and opened the window. He took a quick look at the roof that he jumped onto last night. Having confirmed that it was, in fact, still there, he motioned with his hand to Annette to come closer to look at how he does it. Crouching on the sill, he stood up slightly, to half crouch. His knees bent, he jumped and flew to the other roof.

Stumbling a few steps forward, he came to a halt and turned to watch and help Annie do the same. She hesitated, looking down at the alley below. Keziah crossed his arms and waited for her to jump. He stood close to the edge, just in case he had to catch her. After a few moments of consideration, Annette stood up from the crouch on the window sill, like Keziah did, and jumped.

The power of the jump just wasn’t the same as Keziah’s, and her flight seemed like it would be incomplete. Flailing her arms in the air, she landed on the edge of the roof, but her balance betrayed her, and she was leaning backward, ready to fall. With a swift hand, Keziah grabbed her arm and dragged her deeper into the roof, causing her to breathe a big sigh of relief.

After some similar stumbles along the climb down on the ledges of whatever they could find along the wall, they made it to the alley. Unspotted and out of immediate danger, they started to head for their ship, when Keziah noticed yet another face he wished he wouldn’t see. In the same place that the bodies were left after the night’s fight, they still remained. Not only that, but Scoyl also was present. He did what seemed to Keziah as drawings on the dead men’s foreheads. Hearing their descent, Scoyl stood up and greeted Keziah with something that was probably a salute, but Keziah didn’t recognize it.

“Ashish, it is good to see you.”

“What are you doing to them?” Keziah promptly ignored his welcome and pointed to the bodies.

“Marking, Ashish,” explained Scoyl.

“Marking for what? And why in that way?”

“It’s so that my masters will know that I completed my task. This is a special ink that can be traced to a body, even if it is buried or burned. It has to be in this place. That’s how my masters taught me.”

Keziah looked a little conflicted by this. Technically, it wasn’t malicious or mocking, but the act of drawing on a dead person’s forehead did look to him… odd. Not sure what to do with it, he decided that he didn’t have to do anything, and just decided to be on his way. He motioned for Annie to follow him and they were gone from that alley.