They descended into the valley of craftsmen, on the doors outside of buildings of stone of all types, lanterns glowed with warm yellow light. The Sun had fallen, the stars had risen, the underside of the Great Tree twinkled in the night and showered the city with light, yet despite the effect it had, it wasn’t enough and as expected the people of the city had created counters.

From Door to door, and post to post, lights lit up the city, the bellow of a forge, the workings of a saw, the clang of a hammer on metal. This part of the City came alive at night, and the glow of the night-lights mixed in with the glow of fire from within the windows of every other craftsman.

They entered shops, bargained for deals, and left if they didn’t like it. Myron, having never bartered in his life, let Syl and Dakini more than anyone do the deed. She transformed herself with every humans they met, she was playful and she was coy and she earned them a good bit more at the end of the day when they had sold tusks, talons, feathers, tufts of wool, shale rock and whatever else Syl had pried from the still warm corpses of their enemies.

Being, as they where, in the Craftsman district, she asked around. Form corner to corner, she asked about a Trainer craftsman with a powerful Aimon. Why powerful? Because while he hadn’t seen her before, Syl had heard of the name Marissa recently. A Powerful Aimon that saved a thousand lives in a skirmish with the tribes. So she asked about, did her trainer live here? What would he do? She asked for a lot of tangential questions as they went through their Items. None had Heard of Marissa the Craftsman, but everyone knew of the Healer, Lapure, The Star of Guild Master’s Davosh team, and a town celebrity.

Eventually she had to give up and resume their journey through the night for the original purpose of this excursion. To Find food, Drink, and a good mattress to rest upon. Everyone was tired, and while they didn’t push her in any way, Syl understood she was being selfish. She always had another day to try. Marissa wouldn’t disappear.

To get out of the district of craftsmen they had to take yet another flight of stairs, this one they found before them, some 200 hundred steps tall. The magnificent view of the lights and the farm fields past the southern walls of the city did not make it worth the pain, Myron believed so deeply, but it had to be done, for they couldn’t sleep on the street and eat air, when there was no need to do so.

At the top of the stairs a lady with a great billowing, picked up her skirts and daintily rushed down the steps, snapping her head back every ten or so to look for pursuers. Next to her, a man with a sword on his waist, and two Horns on his head remained vigilant.

He stopped his charge in her tracks and they stared at Myron, and more specifically his Aimon. “Uhm, I know this looks weird, but I just prefer to have my Aimon out and about. I swear.” Myron understood, looking at this young woman in the soft yellow light, that she was a noble lady of some kind. Young, and at the ripe age for marriage in the archaic society which Humans had developed, with a bodyguard on her side, and silks on her person. She was either running away from something, either the marriage or some other danger. And Myron wanted nothing to do with it. Yet here he was, standing in her path, with three Aimon out against the one swordsman.

There was no saving the situation at that point. The Bull Aimon stepped forth, pulled out his sword and it buzzed. He tapped the tip on the big golden septum he had in his nose and the Single edged sword vibrated, a calm bell sound resonated through the night.

“That’s a Kentauros. Trained Aimon Swordsman of the Imperial Family, I’m fairly certain.”

“Wait!” Myron lifted his hands, palms open. “I don’t want to fight, let us step aside, we’ll go another way, you can pass freely. I don’t care about the Politics.” Myron was pleading at this point. He wanted nothing to do with this runaway princess, or whatever she was.

It was then that Myron understood that he had destroyed all his chances of escaping without even a bit of battle at this point. He felt a Pulse of power. “She’s communicating through her Bond.” The Smile on her face was devilish. Her eyes morphed into crescents as she looked down at Myron and his team. Far behind and above the crest of the stairs voices and rushed steps begun to reach them. It seemed just this delay had been enough for those that would keep her in her palace to reach her.

“Guys prepare. No [Surge], No [Sprout]. Syl, [Polished Sheen] prepare to go all out. No Howls and Shrieks.” Myron said and backed away.

“Rhamon, save me from my attempted kidnappers.”

The Kentauros nodded, a scowl on his face. “If you think this is the correct route, then I shall follow you till the end.” He said, his voice deep and young. He exploded forth, the stairs below his feet cracking into shards of stone. Syl was there, both her Claws together, she took a down-swing from his sword and was blasted away, grunted in pain.

![Water Whip]!” Myron called and punched out and Rhamon lifted his sword in guard only to have his arms wrapped tightly by the non attacking move. Mery pulled apart and Dakini dove in her Tails extended and bound together in a single long tip shaded in Dark Type Aether.

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A Beam of light exploded from Rhamon’s chest and Dakini’s attack was destroyed. Her skin sizzled and she was thrown back screaming. She hit the ground hard and bounced all the way down the stairs. Rhamon cut apart the Whips and sent forth a wave of leafy green crescents to descend upon them with his Sword. Syl stepped up and sliced into all of them, tanking those she couldn’t break with her body.

The Kentauros was upon her, he cut down and Myron jumped aside as a pillar of cutting light flew forth. Syl dodged per Myron’s orders and both of them were safe, but now there was nothing in between Myron and Rhamon. The Bull charged forth, sword ready to pierce him when he seemed to falter as a pulse of Dark Aether assaulted him. He crushed his foot into the stairs even as he missed the actual step and lunged forward.

“[Aqua Bullet]!” Mery shouted and punched from the side. The pressurized water shot out and slammed into Rhamon’s sword, pushing him to the side. He tripped and flipped so as not to fall but Mery was upon him. [Hard Right] was parried aside and a fist of righteous wood rose from the ground and punched her in the chin. Mery flipped in the air, hurt but not broken. She spun around and dodged the cutting edge of a long floral sword.

Rhamon dipped the sword and the sweet scent of cinnamon spread through the battlefield, the sharp point of the sword spun and twisted and suddenly it was Aimed at Myron. Dakini was there her tails bunched up and transformed into a round shield of Metal, while her eyes burned a fierce red. Rhamon faltered, a yelp stopped him short.

Syl was standing behind the escapee princess, her claw touching the girl’s pale neck, her light brown hair - the color of honey - held in a fist, while her sky-blue eyes looked at Rhamon with fear.

The Kentauros locked eyes with Myron, who nodded. Myron stood, and begun sprinting into an Alley, Syl rushed away with the princess in toe before leaving her gasping and falling to the ground as she disappeared into the dark streets of the night. Rhamon was next to her the very same moment. Holding her gently.

She hugged him, and kissed him forehead. Myron watched none of this happen, running away as fast as his tired legs could carry him, relieved to not be in the crossfire anymore.

“Are you sure about this? We may not truly get another chance to escape this Marriage, this City.”

“Yet I believe we may, my beloved. I think, that now more than ever, we shall. My brother won’t be able but to question the motives behind this attempt, since it wasn’t his own. His failed, or hadn’t come yet. Who knows at this point how many people actually want me dead or gone. Who could it be? He would most certainly think, and that though alone will be enough to force him into action.”

It wasn’t much later when the two had to separate. The Guards had reached them. Rhamon picked up the princess and begun to carry her away from the scene of battle, only after scaring the buildings and the steps a bit more.

A Poster! They would release a Wanted Poster for this man immediately. The Ducal Guard commander ordered. The princess sighed, as she would have to spend some time describing the features of this man and his Aimon, but it would all be worth it. As long as he wasn’t caught. All he had to do was stay vigilant and he would have served his purpose.

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“FOOD!” Myron and Mery shouted with glee as their plates of stew as well as a big boiled potato salad where served. They dug in like starving beasts, barely chewing and taking the food down their gullets by gulping down beer.

After a while Myron stopped trying to mimic Mery’s way of eating, as it was too hard on his soul and relaxed. “What a heck of a day it’s been.” He commented, taking another swig and letting Syl do so as well. They weren’t heavy drinkers, none of them, but a cold bear, kept that way because of Ice fridges created by Aimon and refrozen on the Daily, was refreshing after what they’d been through the past few hours.

“This is exactly what we needed.” Dakini nodded, biting into a whole skewer of meat and pulling it off the stick.

“Kuha~” Syl slammed the mug onto the table, empty, and let her hackles fall. “It’s a shitty day this one. First… I have to face a new dilemma entirely, and then we have to get involved in political drama as well. What do we do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you hear what she said? ‘Save me from my Kidnappers!’” Syl raised her voice few pitches and swung her head side to side in a funny albeit exaggerated mimicry of the Princess.

“So? Wasn’t she being dramatic?”

“No, she was saying that to us.” Syl said with confidence. “I agree with Syl.” Dakini nodded after biting into another skewer. Myron noticed to late that it was his own.

“Why would she? I don’t think I’m quite there. She wanted to give reason to herself as to why she was attacking us. We would be framed as her kidnappers.”

“Exactly, so why say that aloud? If she has the political importance to frame us and jail us with one sentence. Why say so out loud, now we escaped.”

“Oh.” Myron’s eyes lit up, and then he frowned. “She wants us to hide.” He said grimly, his spoon fell back into the soup. “That bitch.”

“Calm down, Myron. We should probably go along with that Hiding plan no matter how much it rubs you, and us, the wrong way.”

“I hate nothing more in this world, than inconsiderate, rich, stuck up pricks who are so self important that the lives of no one else matters, that their plans and schemes and desires are so important and flawless that they don’t stop to consider if the way they are affecting the world around them is negative or positive. I hate that Princess, and I hope she suffers.” Myron said so, slurped up whatever soup he had left, ate the veggies, ordered another skewer of meat, ate it right as it came off the kitchen and went up to the room. “Going to Sleep. Tomorrow morning, we’re going to the Guild to get my fucking license.”

“How would you do that? By morning your face will be drawn by the best artists there are, a picture perfect replica of your every feature, even your gate may be described to the Patrols. We can’t go alone, as you need to be there to get tested, and even if we did go, they’d have an even easier time recognizing us.”

“Well, I have a solution. I’ll inform you in the morning. Let the suspense build.” Myron said and lifted the frown. “You’re all stars everyone. Thanks for not getting angry at my antics, and whining throughout the day. I respect you all a lot.” He smiled and then departed.

The night was short and he was tired. Tomorrow would be a new day, and he wanted to take it on with gusto, not dark bags and misery.