“I will not help you with that. Another war can come and kill everyone in the empire for all I care.” Xanthus said sternly, his eyes locked with Harkner, his gaze was unwavering, but not reckless, it was precise.

“You haven’t heard what you will receive.”

“Nothing can get me to commit national infiltration for you, Harkner.”

“Your father. You can cure him.”

“I knew that. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“And what are your results?”

“Unsuccessful.” Xanthus muttered shamefully.

“Perhaps it’s because each time you have to sneak into the capital and test medicine on his comatose body. An act that hasn’t gone unnoticed over the years. I can bring you his body, allowing you on-demand access.”

Xanthus sighed, he knew they must have figured it out by now. They have the new capability of running drug tests, making his job even harder.

“What you offer me is far too little. In fact, caring for my comatose father may even be a detriment to me.” said the alchemist, knowing keeping his father healthy would distract him from finding a cure, and just living his life. He cared about his father, almost obsessively in fact, but he needed time to develop something to combat the almost magical virus in his system.

“You don’t understand completely. I will still be caring for your father, I’ll have the top nurses in the kingdom if it must be so, but you wont need to sneak in.”

“Are you suggesting I’ll be free?”

“Yes. Free from the sins you’ve committed. The law will not be a problem anymore.”

“Quite a risky deal, for you... But I’ll think about it.”

“You don’t have much time. When we arrive in the capital, I doubt you’d be able to make an escape from the carriage, wouldn’t you?”

“Fine. I’ll bite.” Xanthus finally stated. “What do I have to do?”

“Punch me as hard as you can.”

“Excuse me?”

“Punch. Me. As hard. As you can.” Harkner said again, word after word.

“This is to make this situation look better on your part.” Xanthus replied, knowing it’d only save Harkner his pride.

“You overwhelmed me, and leaped out of the cart onto the road. My guards pursued, but you weren’t able to be found. You walked for a mile out into the forest, toward the direction of a farmhouse. After we got to the house, it was abandoned, tire tracks leading away from the building, but they ended. We suspect someone picked you up.”

“What about Geoff?”

“What about him? Who is he?”

“Nothing…” Xanthus replied.

“So, Xanthus. What is it going to be?”

He peered at the alchemist, his face genuine. Xanthus simply just stared back, the moment’s weight far too great. He couldn’t go to prison, he knew that for sure. The only way out was this deal. So, the Prince had him under his shoe. But would this deal end up being worse than prison? What about Geoff?

Both of these questions could only be solved when they arose. For now Xanthus rose his fist, the prince wincing at the sight.

“See you soon, Xanthus.” Harkner said, the punch hitting his gut, winding him. Xanthus jumped to the door, swinging it open. Without hesitation, he lept, rolling out onto the dirt.

He was ready to run like hell.

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Geoff’s skin was clammy and hot.

While the jacket he had in his bag did provide protection from the elements, it was extremely scratchy. Goblin skin is tough, but Geoff still hated this fabric.

He sucked his bitching up though and continued out through the empty field. In the depths of winter, it was excruciatingly cold, despite them being more or less near the equator. Geoff couldn’t understand how the humans dealt with it given their thinner flesh.

The sky was filled with a thin layer of clouds, grey and dirge. The walk was made more depressing by the thoughts of Xanthus’ capture lingering within his mind.

A grimace of triangular carnivorous teeth crossed his mouth as the wind hit him harder, threatening to knock his tiny body over. His memory tried to stay positive. Instead of Xanthus, his thought tried to stick on that one time he went paragliding in weather like this. Granted he crashed and nearly died, and it wasn’t for fun, just a silly mission that ended up being useless when the ingredients they were robbing turned out to just be radishes.

Xanthus and him had a good time anyway, despite his master's deep wave of guilt washed over him afterward. Nothing a home cooked pie didn’t fix though.

There was nothing Geoff could imagine that was without Xanthus. His friend was his everything. His tribe were rough and disgusting, even for goblins, to the point that he didn’t consider them family.

It was only Xanthus that saw him as an equal. Both of them homeless, both of them found each other. And it was Xanthus’ kindness that Geoff followed out into the field. They had each other’s backs for half their lives, and Geoff was fully determined to save him from the clutches of the Ochamus Empire.

Walking didn’t seem so depressing anymore.

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

While Xanthus wasn’t necessarily fit, he wasn’t out of shape either. Still, a solid hour of running wears your breath away.

His heart pounded in his chest, like a mad dog in a cage raging to get out.

He didn’t stop until he saw the house in the distance. The amber glow of the fire through the windows like the light at the end of a long tunnel.

He pounded upon the door, collapsing to his knees in utter exhaustion.

The door opened.

“Did… you run all the way here?”

“Yes.” huffed Xanthus, unable to even open his eyes.

“Oh what a bore.” the rough male voice replied. “Well, to your feet. Get inside.”

Xanthus rose, he peered at the man. His face was skinny, in fact he was malnourished, his cultured clothes not even fitting him fully. His charcoal colored vest flopped around as he walked. The alchemist decided to say nothing so as not to offend, but he did stare.

“Xanthus, right?”

“Yeah.” Xanthus replied, shutting the door behind him.

“Why can’t people be named normal things these days…?” the man sighed, flopping onto the couch. He seemed to be human, but that wasn’t rare. In fact, about ninety percent of the Ochamus population was human.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“And what is your name, wiseass?” Xanthus aggressively asked, collapsing beside him.

“My assigned name is Caliber. You’ll never learn my real one.”

“Because you are too embarrassed?”

“Because if you learn my name, you will be able to report me to the authorities if we have a falling out.” Caliber replied, picking up a glass of red wine from the coaster.

“Hmm…” Xanthus pondered, looking around. It seemed to be just a normal farmhouse. A poor man’s home, with only the exact essentials for living. A table, two chairs, a rug, a couch, a side table with a book. It was simple, the only things in the room. Nothing more, nothing unless.

If you ignored the suspicious gun in the corner.

Xanthus knew it was a sniper rifle, a steam powered one. It was capable of laser sights, night vision, and bullets that went over 150 meters. He’d seen some before in a storehouse, but this one seemed custom built.

“You made that weapon, Caliber?” Xanthus curiously asked.

“I have a guy.” he simply said, his voice betwixt with the wine he was raucously pouring into his gullet.

“Impressive work he’s done.”

“It can unload into your skull if you keep asking questions.”

Xanthus decided this man was not worth it to speak with, so he did what he did best. Staying quiet, thinking, scheming.

“I’ll take you into the capital myself tomorrow morning. We sleep here tonight.”

Xanthus nodded, transfixing upon his thoughts further, ignorant of Caliber leaving his chair and walking to the door.

“Get down. You were followed.” he softly, but directly ordered.

“But I thought you said…”

“Shut up, get down, don’t look at the windows.”

Xanthus did as instructed, he lay belly down on the floor at the legs of the couch. He wasn’t nervous, but he was anxious. If whoever this was broke in, he’d surely die if they had intent to kill.

He heard the window opening and Caliber resting his gun on the window. A second passed.

And then another.

And then another.

And then…

The gun unloaded, the deafening noise ringing out across the field and through the night.

“How many more?” Xanthus whispered.

“One. They are just scouts. I killed one.” Caliber said through his focus, Xanthus saw his feet on the other side of the couch shuffle, then they steadied once more.

Another deafening noise rang out, the gun firing again.

“He’s dead. Stay down, I’m scanning for more.”

Xanthus stayed perfectly still. He knew he was probably safe, but he didn’t rise anyway.

“They are gone. No more. We’ll investigate in the morning.”

“Good.”

Xanthus came to his feet with a sigh of relief.

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Geoff looked up the trunks of the trees.

They grew extremely tall, even from a human perspective, their branches sprawling out over fifty feet above the forest floor.

His path had led him here. He was just walking about, looking for a town. He needed a map, or better yet, an escort to the capital. He knew that was no way he’d ever make it without one.

The road was too long, the monsters too tough.

But in his distance, he saw a moving light. A bunch of moving lights.

A caravan. He couldn’t make it out well, but the shape was unmistakable.

He walked forward, cautiously. It would be easy to scare them off with his appearance. A single goblin could be followed by hundreds if not thousands in a raiding party.

He crept through the quiet night of the woods, the wind rusting the branches of the Red Giants around him.

He heard several voices speaking, but nothing that he could understand. What if they weren't human? He hoped it was just his misunderstanding, as he wasn’t on the best terms with elves, and orcs rarely travelled in carriages.

He approached cautiously. But then he heard something that he really didn’t want to hear.

A sound all woodland travellers feared.

Twinkling bells.

He looked around… nothing was around him. The caravan was gone. He was alone, in the dark.

“Hello!?” he shouted into the night. Nothing called back. Nothing but the bells.

“I get it, I’ve stepped into your territory. I’m sorry. I am just looking for my friend.” he explained. He knew what made that sound. This had happened before.

But when he felt the touch of tiny hands on his shoulders, he also knew what came next.

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Two men. They seemed to be rangers.

“They aren’t moving anytime soon.” Xanthus said, peering into the maggot filled holes that went through their brains, the sniper pierced clean through.

“Take what you want off of them, I suppose.”

Xanthus did as instructed, rifling through the corpses' satchels. He ended up just taking the full bag, along with the canteen, machete, rope, bandages, and rations inside. But when he reached into the other bag, while he found similar things, one of the smaller pockets held two surprises.

One of them was a photo. Three men. Two of the men were currently on the floor.

“They have a friend.” Xanthus said.

“What?!” Caliber sneered.

He snatched the picture away. Indeed, there was a third brother in arms.

Xanthus examined the other item, a necklace, with intrigue. The symbol seemed to be a eyeless horse head crafted out of bronze or a similar metal. Caliber snatched it too before Xanthus could discern it further.

“We have to go... now.”

“Why?”

“The Horseman knows we are here.”