I’m on my own… Hector trusts me…
Jon puffed up his chest, hoping to manifest the strong sense of confidence that he wanted to feel. Within several seconds, his shoulders dropped to the side and he lost his breath.
Using the experience he gained from being alone in Hector’s house, Jon turned around and departed towards the exit.
Jon spilled out onto the street directly form the plaza. He looked up at the sun. It was still high enough to give a sense of daytime, but Jon could already see it coming down from it’s peak.
I’ll come back at sundown, Jon thought. Giving himself arbitrary rules to go by seemed to help him find his way.
He went along with the crowd of people, simply looking around at whatever he passed by.
Here, he saw that instead of stands, many of the shops had storefronts built into the side of buildings. Many of them had space where you could walk in and observe a room full of goods.
Jon enjoyed the anonymity of the streets, and so he stayed outside, simply observing whatever he saw hanging from the front of the shops to lure him in. He saw pottery and robes and other types of goods that he simply had no reason for. He spent all of his time outside on the wagon going from place to place, and everything simply seemed unnecessary.
Jon also realized that he was considering buying things. He was trying to understand what was macking him feel the urge when he noticed a pair of brilliant purple fabrics hanging from one of the windows.
Oh.
The thought passed Jon that just because he didn’t want something didn’t mean that he couldn’t get anything for anyone else.
Mom.
A burning feeling filled Jon’s chest. He wondered if he could buy his mother something. Just to remind her that he had been thinking about her. He remembered Tallows’s bargaining for the fabric in the town over and realized that this item that he brought could be something that would be important for both him and his mother.
He instinctively reached into the side bag Hector had given him sot hat he could take out money.
He kept trying and failing until he realized that he was just swiping at air.
Oh no. I left it.
Other than his gun, Jon hadn’t seen the need to take anything from the wagon before it was left to the workers at the Library. He cursed his luck. He had been so used to never needing money, that he just didn’t think to bring it with him.
In fact, Jon had never even carried money around with him, let alone need it. Next time, he reminded himself that he should keep some of the money he earned from the King’s Guard the next time he completed a mission so that he could make spontaneous buys such as this one.
Jon was turning away, keeping a sad glare on the hanging fabric when he heard something.
“Psst!”
Jon turned swiftly to the source of the sound.
There was a man wearing a turban and a vest over his bare chest. It vaguely reminded him of the jackets from the other town.
“I see you eyeing that piece over there,” the man said. “You looking to make some money?”
Jon hesitated, but then he understood that there couldn’t be anything worse than what had happened to him the past few days, and so he nodded. Just because the man seemed to favor a particular type of top, it didn’t mean that he was looking to hurt Jon.
“You look like a tough guy,” the man said. “We could use a tough guy like you. Come with me, and we’ll pay you for your troubles.”
“Okay.”
“Come on, then.” The man turned neatly on his heels and immediately walked away.
Jon followed after.
They walked along the street, seeming to go against the path of the crowd. Still, Jon had no issue as the crowd seemed to part their way before him as if they understood his goal. He imagined what Tallow might have done if she was in this situation, which would have been to keep an eye out for anything suspicious that might have been watching him.
He hadn’t expected it, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a person in full headwrap watching him from the second-floor terraces of the storefronts. They were crouched and peering hard at Jon and the new compatriot.
Jon took to Tallow’s advice and made sure not to stare, or to even show that he had noticed the observer at all. For all Jon knew, this person might have been keeping an eye on their compatriot and making sure he was safe from Jon.
With all that said and done, Jon felt incredibly proud of himself and wondered if Tallow would feel the same.
There were some other quick glances toward him from the crowd, but none of these alerted Jon or made him feel like had any strong interest in him. Jon figured he’d have to be used to being the odd one out in a crowd like this.
Eventually, the two of them turned down an alley, much like Jon had been expecting. He readied himself for a possible throwdown.
Instead, they simply kept walking down the alley until they approached a tattered purple tarp draped over a decent size opening in the side of the building.
“After you,” the guy said, lifting the curtain.
Jon was a little nervous, but he could hear a lot of noise and saw that the other side of the opening would still be outside. Being outside and around a lot of people helped him feel less like this was a trap.
Jon walked forward, stopping in front of the man to see if he would attack him.
The man only gave an awkward glance, so Jon continued on his way.
Even as he came in, he heard the slamming of fist into flesh as he walked into a makeshift arena. It seemed that before the occupants had chosen this place, it was already made for viewing spectacle events. The area sunk into the ground, thick circular rings built into the ground as it lowered in altitude and created raked seating so that people at all levels could enjoy the show.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The show, from what Jon saw, was a fight that looked like it was between two unrefined fighters. They each wore long loose sweatpants, and neither of them was wearing a shirt. They were sweaty enough to where the sunlight was reflecting off of their skins. One of them was making wide swings at the others, who kept his arms over his head. From what Jon could tell, they didn’t even seem to be utilizing mana behind their strikes.
Jon found it all curious. Neither fighter seemed like they knew what was gonna happen next, and was just thinking for the moment. Jon was used to watching the technique-driven mana-powered fights of his questing, but Jon also knew that if he was ever forced to fight somewhere barehanded, he would look more like the two people down there than anything.
There were cheers from all sides of the arena, but Jon couldn’t tell who was cheering for who. It just seemed to be general excitement.
Suddenly, the man who was on offense bent down and went underneath the other man’s guard.
He picked him up, holding him over his head before slamming him down onto his back.
The crowd cheered.
Powerbomb… Jon wondered where he had seen this before. It reminded him of Mercy’s fighting style, but there was a gut feeling that he had seen it all elsewhere before.
“Hey!” Jon was brought back to attention by the man he had been following.
“This way,” the man said, cocking his head.
Jon followed. They went to an area sectioned off in the back, partly away from all of the fuss, but not too much to alienate the mood. It was also lazily hidden away by a torn purple sheet.
Jon followed the man underneath this curtain as well.
Entering, he saw that it was actually a confined space more resembling a room than anything. A chubby man sat behind a wide table with a ton of papers and trinkets on top. Almost a crude interpretation of Lana's office in the King's Guard.
To either side of a table stood what seemed to be bodyguards. Men who were dressed similar to the one that brought Jon there.
The bald man behind the table was eating when he noticed that both Jon and the other man entered. He seemed mildly curious, but not surprised.
Jon could have sworn that one of the other bodyguards was glaring at him, he wasn’t able to assess what it meant when the bald man started talking.
“So what are you doing?” The bald man said. “Are you looking for a job?”
Jon was so taken aback, that he wasn’t able to answer.
“Are you looking for a fight?” the man asked again.
Jon shook his head.
“Are you looking to sell your gun?”
Jon shook his head again.
The bald man looked confused. “Then what are you here for?”
Jon felt embarrassed, and he immediately turned and walked out of the small room.
He careened towards the exit and walked out from the first set of curtains back into the alleyway.
He was making his way towards the street when someone called out to him.
“Hey!”
Jon stopped and turned.
From what he could tell, it was the man glaring at him from the makeshift room.
“It's him!” Several other men and women in similar dressing stepped out from the curtain at well.
Jon may not have been able to recognize one of them, but as a group, and even without their trademark dressing, he could make out the whole bunch.
Jackets…
Jon was more disappointed with himself than mad. He had put himself in a poor situation like this, and even if he could defend himself, he really didn’t want to fight anybody.
Is this what Hector feels like all the time?
Jon cursed himself that he was alone, meeting with these groups of people again. Unfortunately, they seemed to know that too.
“He's by ‘emself! Get ‘im!”
Jon turned and started running to the end of the alleyway when he saw a turbaned figure step into the exit.
Jon recognized it as the figure who had been observing him from the walk before. Up close, he could see that they wore a long tan cowl and that everything on their face was covered except for the eyes.
Though he didn’t find any weapons, his eyes darted towards the figure’s arms and saw that they were toned with muscles.
Oh no. Jon stopped and reached back for his gun.
When he saw that the figure didn't move, he turned back around with his gun pointed toward his attackers.
The man who had pointed him out was the closest, possibly fueled by his vengeance, followed by a line of several others. Jon was still trying to gauge the distance of all of his targets when a new figure dropped down, kicking the first man and knocking him back.
This new entrant had on a heavy brown robe and was hooded so that Jon couldn’t make out their face. He immediately wanted it to be Tallow, but he knew that probably wouldn’t have been the case. Jon shivered, as he couldn’t tell who would feel brave enough to step in between him and his attackers.
The robed person stood up and drew their hood back, revealing bushy brown hair with two pigtails and a big smile.
Thalia?
It was as if pulling back a hood had made the height of his savior smaller. Thalia quickly ran up and grabbed Jon in a tight hug around his waist.
“Hi!” she half whispered quickly.
“Hi?” Jon said, still racing through all of the questions in his head.
Thalia then grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the street.
“Come on!” she called.
Jon remembered his worry about the figure awaiting for them and cutting them off from the street.
The figure did nothing but observe as Jon and Thalia rushed past them and into the crowd of people.
Oh. Jon felt a little silly, but he couldn’t focus on that as two of the jackets had climbed over the short building and jumped from the roof.
Thalia quickly let go of Jon and drew a dagger from her robe.
Jon was barely able to get a glimpse of it, but he felt deep inside it was definitely the dagger that Thalia had gotten from their “adventure” together.
Jon was still wondering how he was gonna pick off the two men when Thalia jumped right into the fray.
She sliced the wrist of the first man, making him drop his own dagger, before dropping to the floor and swiping at the ankles of the second man making him fall to his knees.
She stood back up and struck at the first man with an uppercut.
Jon almost didn’t believe what he was looking at, but he knew he still had to treat this situation like any other. At this moment, he needed to put trust in Thalia and her abilities without asking too many questions.
“Thalia, duck,” Jon said softly.
Thalia dropped into a ball and rolled backward towards Jon.
Jon fired, the familiar blue blast of energy catching both of the men and sending them elsewhere into the crowd of people.
Jon had to admit that even though he didn’t like fighting, it felt good to get off a good shot with the gun.
The other jackets had begun to spill out of the alley. However, Thalia had already raced forward, looking over her shoulder at Jon while she did.
“Jon, gun!” she called.
Jon already knew what to do. He aimed the gun at the girl and fired.
Thalia was already jumping into the air, turning back towards Jon. She caught the blast within her dagger, it emitting a burning white blow as it collected the energy. Jon had never seen the dagger when it was actually at work.
Thalia finished turning in the air and thrust the dagger forward.
A white energy blast shot from the blade and into the floor in front of the alleyway entrance, making a large explosion that engulfed the ground and the jackets in a giant shock wave, sending people in all directions.
Thalia landed on the ground and then turned back to Jon with a flabbergasted expression on her face.
“So.. cool…” she said.
Jon grimaced. All things considered, it was kinda cool.