The wagon train had managed to enter Tinas without problem. The guards posted at the gates were the ones that always manned them and had easily recognised Marcus. The merchant was quite memorable, tiny as he was and always accompanied by the huge, heavily armoured Daenan. They had rushed them aside as soon as they spotted them, giving them warnings about the armed zealots that now ruled the city and patrolled it. Their looks turned from worry to outright fear when Marcus told them that they had already met them. It wasn't unknown that Marcus travelled with an Orc and a Faerie, but while the humans from the borderlands traded openly with all, the zealots would gleefully tear them apart. Under the pretense of the usual inspection of goods the guards had exchanged information with the small, humble merchant and given them directions to a part of the town where they would be able to stay without attracting the attention of the fanatics. Marcus had thanked them and given them some coins in return, but the sad look on his face told him he was less than happy about their forced relocation. Marcus knew every inn for miles around, and as calm and docile as he usually was, he could get incredibly passionate when food was involved.

Daenan had decided to err on the side of caution for the night and was laying on the bed in his room rather than remaining downstairs with the others. He regretted it. He much preferred to be around others. He wasn't alone though, but Faen's constant and literal buzzing around didn't do much to pacify his annoyance. The large mug of beer had helped, but had been emptied all too soon. So had the other two.

"Faen, by my honour, stop flying about like that or I will smack you like a big bug."

"How can you be so calm!" the Faerie squeaked back. "We're in the middle of a town full of zealots! They'll tear us apart if they find out about us! What will you do if you can't lie your way through a group of them?"

Daenan patted the warhammer leaning against the bed he was sitting on, giving his friend a broad grin.

"Violence doesn't solve everything!"

"Solved everything up to now though."

"I— You— Aaah!" the Faerie threw his arms up in exasperation, before flying over towards his friend and starting to hammer him on the head with his fists. "You absolute idiot! There's hundreds of them here! Do you hear me? Hundreds! You can't take them on! What are you going to do when they show up with crossbows?"

"Probably turn myself into a pincushion and take a few more with me, I guess," came the response. Daenan shrugged, as if the image didn't perturb him.

"You idiot!" the Faerie shouted again. Realising that hitting his friend on the head did absolute nothing except draw a broad, toothy grin from him, the Faerie ceased his assault and slowly sank to the ground. "At least distract them for long enough so I can escape." He threw a weak smile at his tall friend.

Daenan nodded. "Reckon I can manage that. Think if I throw a cart at them they'll be suitably distracted?"

"Like that time in Lurgassi?"

"Oh yeah. That was fun."

"That wasn't fun you jackass! We actually had to restrain Marcus or he'd try to skin you alive!"

"He what now? How come I never knew that bit?"

"Because you were too busy beating up the entire city militia you moron!"

Daenan's face turned thoughtful for a brief moment as he mulled over the memory. "Well then their captain shouldn't have spit in my drink."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"He did that because you called him a cheating whore's son!"

"Well he was! The cheating at least. Using weighed dice, the bastard."

Faen had started fluttering again and realised that his friend was taking the piss with him. He sighed and slowly descended, landing next to his pal. "You're an impossible bastard, you know that?"

"Thank you. I try."

"So how do you think things will pan out in the city?"

"Hm. I reckon Marcus will want to sell everything as fast as possible and stock up on whatever he can get his hands on. Bugger's usually greedy, but I think even he prefers his head over gold. Like you said, it's a matter of time before we're found."

Faen paled, which was rather hard to notice given a Faerie's usual complexion. "What do you mean?"

Daenan's dark eyebrows formed into a frown, giving him a distinct demonic appearance. "You didn't see?"

Faen shook his head. Sometimes he forgot that his friend, despite being a rude bastard and an utter oaf, his skills were very real and that underneath his slow and clumsy demeanor a mind as sharp as a razor lurked.

"The Flame's giving out rewards for finding spies." He spat the last word.

Faen gulped. He could connect the dots. "And an even bigger one for creatures of the Dark," he finished.

"There's a reason the guards sent us here. This quarter has no love lost for the Flame, and their patrols are unlikely to frequent here as well. They may be fanatics, but they're not stupid. They have a few competent bastards leading them. By my honour, I wish it weren't so because the rest of them are just vermin. But you know what they say about pigeons being led by a phoenix." Daenan shrugged.

"So do you think we'll be safe here?" Faen looked up at his friend, a slimmer of hope lurking in the question. That slimmer was immediately extinguished when his friend looked down at him in disgust.

"Of course not. By the strength of my arm, Faen, could you please stop flying long enough so you can have some blood flow to your brain instead? I told you not a moment ago that we'll be found sooner or later. Safety is an illusion. There's always danger. The only way to be safe is to be prepared for it."

Faen realised his wings were buzzing again and slowly brought them to a stop, embarrassed. He looked down in shame. Silence reigned in the room for a good long while before the Faerie dared disrupt it again. "That's a dark expression. Is where you are from that dangerous?"

"I travelled a lot. Some places were dangerous, others weren't. I'm still alive though."

"That's not what I asked, you oaf," Faen replied while smacking his friend on the side.

"No. I suppose it wasn't."

"So?" insisted the Faerie

"So what?" sighed Daenan

"So how was where you are from then?"

"Rusted blades and blunt daggers, you just won't leave me be until you hear it, will you?" Daenan growled

Faen fought down an urge to retreat and bravely held his ground. "You've not told me or anyone. And I'm sure you're an Orc. But you're not like how Orcs are supposed to be. You're not..." he trailed off, realising he was venturing on very dangerous territory. He looked to the floor in front of him. He could feel Daenan's eyes towards him and felt the fury behind them.

"You mean I'm not stupid. Reigned by bestial instincts that I have no control over. That I am, in fact, more than an animal. Something which you are directly inferring they are not."

"I didn't—" squeaked Faen, only to be stopped short when a pillow crashed into him. For most creatures, having a pillow tossed at them was a pleasant way to pass the time. For a Faerie it was more akin to someone throwing a frying pan at you. Faen, being caught off guard, was sent flying along with the pillow, without the use of his wings for once, and crashed into the blankets of the other bed. He struggled to claw free of them, intending to give his friend a proper cuff on the ears, with his limited magic if he had to, but was brought short by the sad look on Daenan's face.

"Those are not proper Orcs," he whispered. "They're abominations, Faen. They have forgotten their past. By my honour, I hate that I share ancestry with them. I hate that they are all people think of when they think of me and mine. Hammer and shield, how I hate it. We are so much more than..." he trailed off, as if suddenly realising where he was again. For a brief moment he looked terribly fragile, a sight that didn't fit the metal-clad giant. Then he growled and the image was gone. Replaced by the usual fearsome, fierce intensity that he possessed. He got up in a sharp, fluid movement despite the significant weight that his armour held. He stretched and tilted his head in both directions, his bones cracking as he moved.

"Bah. I need a drink. Drinks." He managed to stress the s to indicate he needed several. Before Faen could voice an objection, his friend narrowly managed to avoid pulling the door out of its frame as he left the room, leaving the Faerie alone with his thoughts.