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Del shifted restlessly on a hard wooden stool, pulling her wide-brim hat lower. She'd drawn little attention so far tonight, likely because she was the proper combination of bored and drunk that fit a cramped border tavern. Bored was easy. She’d done nothing but watch a group of drunks roll dice for hours. An attentive serving girl with pretty eyes was making the latter closer to reality than she would have liked. Sighing, she pushed her ale away, turning her attention to the other side of the room again.

A wide stone fireplace provided light for the wooden table. Around it sat a mix of pale merchants from Aurelia, with beads in their raven hair and on their fine dark coats, and sun-worn Giduran tradesmen in coarse linens looking sweaty and nervous. Even outside the Kingsland, the Aurelias flaunted their power mercilessly.

A sudden roar marked the end of yet another round. Men gathered their winnings or nursed lighter purses. Servants with fixed smiles rushed to fill shouted orders for food or drink, dancing deftly between tables and groping hands alike. Del waved off the pretty serving girl and waited for yet another round to begin. But one set of players did not rejoin the games. Their argument was silent in the surrounding din, but the tension was obvious. The Aurelian had a pinched face and wore an elegantly cut coat. He towered over the other man in mismatched Giduran garb and a ridiculously large floppy hat. Del watched their exchange intently from her corner. Eventually, they reached some sort of agreement and moved out of the light. Del slipped silently from her seat and followed them.

The dark courtyard behind the tavern smelled of stable and mud. There wasn’t much light beyond a few sputtering post lanterns, but she easily followed the voices of the two men who, it seemed, had renewed their argument.

“It is absurd to place bets you are unable to cover, farmer.”

“Told ya, I have it. Just didn’t bring it all in with me. Didn’t feel like lugging my strongbox in now, did I? How was I to know you’d beat me so soundly, huh?”

The taller man gave a high, reedy laugh. “I could have told you that, boy. Now quickly, I have a drink and a game to get back to. Hopefully, the others haven’t bled your fellows dry just yet.”

Del followed the voices until they stopped by a row of carts near the stable; one man standing with his back to her and the other disappearing over the side of the closet cart. Keeping to the shadows, she checked the stable was empty and moved to the other end of the row, shedding her long coat and hat as she went.

“Hurry now, it’s freezing out here”. The metal beads in the man’s long hair clicked as he paced.

“One moment more there. Tricky old lock, this is…”

“GILROY MUTTS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THAT CART.”

Both men jumped as Del stepped out of the shadows wearing a threadbare dress and shaking her fist toward the man in the wagon who stumbled down, stammering.

“Maris … Maris my dear… what are you doing here?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m doing,” she stuck a finger in the man’s chest, “making sure you don't gamble away every penny we make. Again. That’s what. And you,” she turned her attention to the startled Aurelian, “I suppose you are the one tryin’ to take all our hard-earned money, yeah?” She pointed accusingly. The faint lantern light glinted off a ring she wore on her first finger. The tall man had recovered from his initial shock and was grinning stupidly at them both.

“Seems you’ve run into some woman troubles, Gilroy. Should’ve left the wife at home if you planned on losing so badly.” He turned to Del. “Your man owes me money that I won fair and I will be paid.” He stepped closer to her, still grinning.

She took a small step back and lowered her eyes. “We ain’t got much, and the harvest wasn’t good this year…”

“You should handle your money better then, farmer. I can be reasonable though,” he said, “with that skin,” he ran a finger down the side of Del’s pale neck, “you could almost pass for an Aurelian.” The younger man shuffled nervously beside them.

“I have the money. Just not here. If you could only give me a day or two…”

“I’ll be gone in a day or two, fool. No, I think we can work out a payment right now.” He continued to leer over Del.

“Please, sir, I have this ring.” She slipped the large ring off and held it up to him. The band was thick silver with one pale green stone in the middle and three dark sapphires set on each side‌. The man's eyes fell on it and widened. No matter how much money he’d won from Gilroy, this would cover it tenfold. “Here sir,” Del said, “take it. Try it. It would look lovely on your hand.” She grabbed his hand and shoved the ring halfway onto his third finger.

“Keep your hands off me, cur,” he spat, shoving her away. But looked down at the ring greedily. “Yes, I think this may do fine, but a little extra may be needed. Just a little…” He reached out a hand to her before his dark eyes widened, and he fell suddenly, making a muffled squish as he hit the muddy ground, dead.

The man in the floppy hat began rifling through the dead man's pockets. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Me? I’ve been watching you play dice for fucking hours, Maug.” She climbed into the cart he’d been in earlier.

He gave her a boyish grin. “Yeah, I had a hard time losing to this idiot.”

“You pick the lock on this safe while you were up here?”

“Course, had to have something to save my hide if you didn’t show up.”

Del jumped down again, pocketing two full purses, and gave the dead man on the ground a shove with the toe of her boot before retrieving her ring. “Damn Aurelians, arrogant assholes, every one.”

Maug was struggling to pull off the dead man’s very muddy coat. “Del, you’re Aurelian.” He said with amusement.

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“I remember. Leave that, would you? It’s a mess.” She disappeared into the shadows and came back wearing her dark coat and hat again. An animal, small and blue, sat perched on her shoulder, trilling like a night bird. The creature looked like a mix of dragon and rat. Using its short flat tail and webbed feet to balance, its broad head moved from side to side, sniffing the air. Deformed wings fluttered at its sides excitedly before it settled to watch the night with hooded eyes. Maug had finally removed the Aurelian's coat and was trying unsuccessfully to scrape mud from the tails.

“Shouldn’t be out while we’re still in town,” he nodded toward the animal, “just draw attention we don’t need.”

Del rolled her eyes, “Tafa got sick of my bag while you were overcoming your ego. I don’t plan on going back to the road tonight, anyway. Let’s get moving. We need to be out of reach before those fools finish losing their life savings.”

They made their way through the trees along the west side of the road, Maug in the lead. Not long after the lights from the town disappeared, they came to the thicket of trees where they had hidden their packs the evening before. It was still a few hours until dawn, so they changed in dark silence. Tafa chittered softly as she foraged the forest floor. By the time they changed, the little creature had made its way to the front pocket of Del's pack. It squeaked irritably as Del slung the pack over her shoulder.

“You plan on traveling again tonight?” Maug asked, one eyebrow raised.

He could see nearly as well as Tafa in the dark. Del could barely see the outline of his enormous hat.

“I do. I imagine that body has been discovered by now and if they suspect foul play and have a good tracker on hand, they could easily follow our trail out.”

Maug sat down at the base of one of the bigger trees. “Oh, please. There’s no decent tracker in this speck of a town. And a decent tracker wouldn’t start until daylight if he knew his job.” Del started to argue, but he continued stubbornly, “and if there was a tracker, they’d be Giduran and wouldn’t give a whit if some rich Aurelia merchant dropped dead in their backyard.”

“Fine,” Del knew it was better not to argue when Maug was tired, “but we are moving again as soon as it’s daylight.” She lay her pack beside another tree before settling into the soft ferns around it. “If we get ambushed in the night, though, I’m blaming you.” Both of them were asleep in minutes.

The dawn was hazy, the fog tinted orange around the edges when Del woke. Maug was already awake and once again working on the dingy velvet coat. His floppy hat lay at the base of the tree where he'd slept. The tips of his pointed ears were just visible through his messy brown hair. Thin tendrils, the texture of tree bark, wove through his curls. The markings of a Larchpaw elf. People outside his homeland knew very little about elves, but would still run him out of town just for being different. The few who did know the usual submissive nature of Larchpaws would try to do much worse. He had refused his people's traditional face markings, though, so with a hat and‌ the right clothes, he could pass as a local easily enough.

“Still think you should have left that thing behind,” Del said as she rummaged through her bag for food. “It doesn’t suit you”. Maug’s golden eyes flashed in amusement, but he just shrugged.

“I like it.”

“Fine,” she said around an old piece of dried meat. “I need supplies. I think there’s a bigger town a couple days west.”

“West?” Maug groaned, “I’m sick of Gidura. It’s all farms and cows and farmers and more cows. I’m never going to get the smell off my clothes. Can’t we head north into Aurelia?” He dropped the coat and crouched in front of her, giving his best smile. The one he used to charm every manner of high lady and serving girl they came across. “Real inns with beds inside, and actual food, and ale that wasn’t made in a barn…”

“And Aurelians.”

“Rich merchants with lazy guards and lonely wives, and sweet wine…” he continued in mock dreaminess.

“And Aurelians.”

“Oh, come on Del. I’m not saying we go to Kingsland. As long as we stay close to the border, we won’t have problems.”

“There are always problems in Aurelia, Maugrian. Remember how we met?” He grimaced a bit remembering.

Del, still new to independence and finding it rather uncomfortable, was passing through a small Aurelian town, trying to get as far south as possible. She sat in a shadowy corner of the biggest inn in town with a map and some thick breakfast ale.

A finely dressed Aurelian rushed into the common room, loudly declaring that someone had robbed his room during the night and demanding the innkeeper call the local guard immediately. The dull beads in his hair barely survived his dramatics. The owner, wanting to avoid hurting his custom with a reported theft, called on the inn's cook/goon to seize the only outsider currently enjoying breakfast in the common room; a handsome young Giuran farmer in a ridiculously oversized hat.

Already disgusted by her people, the audacity of this coward accusing a man of a hangable offense simply because he was an outsider outraged her. The robbed man, looking on gleefully, didn’t seem to care there was no evidence. Del rose, prepared to free the man with a well-crafted lie, but before she could speak the Giuran rose from his stool and attacked with speed and efficiency that shocked her and the goon alike.

She admired his effort from the sidelines until the robbed man’s associates joined the fray, then she drew two daggers hidden under her dress and, once he caught on she was on his side, they dispatched the goon, the innkeeper, and the tradesmen. In need of a hasty escape, they left the town by rooftops and narrow alleys, staying together more because neither trusted the other than newfound kinship. Once they’d reached a well-hidden spot off the main road, they made their introductions.

“Names’ Maugrian Bilkan,” blood still leaking from several cuts on his face, he offered her his hand. She grudgingly accepted it.

“Del.”

“Del,” He raised an eyebrow. “Just Del?”

“Well, I’m a bastard, so you could call me Del Bastard if you’d like. But people might take that the wrong way.” He gave her a wry grin before taking his hand back.

It may have ended there, but out of gratitude for saving him, Maugrian Bilkan graciously returned the items he’d stolen from Del’s own rooms on his way through the inn earlier that morning. And out of guilt, Del shared the loot from the wealthy Aurelian’s room she’d stolen the night before, admitting that her theft on top of Maug’s that morning was probably the reason for his attempted capture.

The memory made Del smile. It took weeks before they trusted each other enough to sleep peacefully and months before Maug felt comfortable enough to reveal he was Larchpaw and had been banished from his homeland, Zersapi, for thievery and, worse in his people’s eyes, insulting visitors.

“I could have taken them, you know?”

“Maug, you were outnumbered five to one.”

“Pfft,” he waved. “Aurelian goons and a fat bar keep.”

Del smiled and shook her head. It was an argument they’d had many times since that morning. They’d ventured into Aurelia a few times since then, and it never ended well.

“We could go east. There are some nice places on the Vintera border,” Del suggested half-heartedly, but Maug grimaced. Vintera was a rich province full of wine, magic, and mines. But they took general mischief far too seriously there, and it shared a border with Zersapi, so he was much more likely to be seen for what he was there, hat or no. And he hated to be seen for what he was. Something they had in common. Maug’s dislike of his people went deeper than her own, or maybe it was just a different kind of dislike. Where she hated the Aurelian arrogance and spiteful ignorance of the outside world, Maug hated the Zersapi for their subservience to it. Nothing was worse to a Zersapi than offending a guest and they were regularly and ruthlessly taken advantage of because of it.

Tafa emerged from Del’s pack and scampered around Maug’s feet, the bright bony crest on her back rubbing against the leather of his boots noisily. When it became clear he wasn’t giving up any food, she disappeared under his discarded coat.

“Hey, I just finished cleaning that.”

“Please, that thing’s so filthy I’m more worried about her.”

“I’ll leave it if we can go north.” He nudged her knee playfully. “Huh? What do you say?”

“Tempting,” Del answered sarcastically, then sighed. “Alright, fine. We’ll cross the border.”

“Excellent…”

“After we visit the next town for supplies. I’m hungry. And Tafa gets a piece of that coat for her bed before you bury it. I think she likes it.” Tafa poked her indigo head out of one sleeve and trilled happily.

“What … come on.”

“Deal?”

“Fine. But you're lucky I like you. Both of you.”