We stopped traveling at inhuman speeds a few hundred steps outside of Red Bay, presumably not to draw attention to ourselves, though I felt our group would stand out regardless due to the matching cloaks and hushed conversations. When we entered the town I realized no one would look at us even if we did jump in, or even fly in on crows the size of mountains. For a little port town, it was filled with a hustle and bustle that I wasn’t really expecting, which in hindsight was due to my never leaving Persea and having little to no understanding of our world. Despite having an interest in the goings ons of the town, my hood was low enough that I’d have to crane my neck just to see from it.

“Stay close,” Sage whispered to me, and he wrapped his cloak around me so I was partially draped, even more impaired.

Basil lead us to an inn, and it began drizzling when he and Sage discussed what they would do. “Should we stop here tonight, Sage?” he asked, voice low.

Sage thought for a moment before nodding. “I’ll check in with the boy. You should go to a pub, see if you can uh—” he paused briefly, making strong eye contact with Basil, “—grab some food, take a break. Drink a little.”

“Got it,” Basil nodded, and he walked off.

“Let’s get inside,” Sage said, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Isn’t it dangerous for us to stop?” I asked, trying to stay quiet.

“Perhaps,” Sage said. “It is in our best interest to take a moment and plan ahead, however. Besides, we made very good time; we covered most of the country in a day, and that should buy us more than enough time to figure out what our course of action should be. We’ll discuss this more in the room.”

He brought me over to a desk where a large, hairy woman tended some books and drinks. “Good evening,” she rasped, her voice scratchy and syrupy.

“Evening,” Sage nodded, removing his hood. The woman’s eyes widened and Sage quickly held a finger to his lips. “I would like a room with my, uh… nephew. A room at the top of this building, preferably.”

Wordlessly, her mouth still slack, she rummaged in her drawer and pulled out a key. Sage took it, then cocked an eyebrow and rocked back and forth a little before asking, “So, would you like payment?”

“Oh!” she gasped, looking out of it. “Yes, of course.”

Sage smirked and reached into his cloak, then dropped four coins onto the counter. “I’ll leave the key on the counter when we leave. Oh, also, I have an associate who is out at the pub right now, he will be returning here tonight. Will that be an issue?”

“Not at all,” she shook her head, cheeks slapping around loosely. “Just keep things quiet, please. We are a peaceful town, sir, and we’d like to keep it that way.”

“Perish the thought,” Sage smirked. “Well, let’s be on our way, boy.”

He lead me down the hall, then up two flights of stairs, down the final hall and into our room two doors in. The room itself was sparse, but homey; two beds, two chairs with a small table, a wardrobe, a window to look out of, and a small but warm amount of candles for light. Sage shut the window, pulled the curtains closed, then removed his cloak before sitting down on one of the beds. When I didn’t join him, he jerked his head to the other bed and commanded, “Sit.”

Narrowing my eyes, I muttered, “I’m no dog,” before taking my seat opposite of his.

“No,” he conceded. “However, in my presence you will do as I say. Is that clear?”

My face bloomed into a redder shade, and I elected to maintain my hood when I nodded.

“Good. Well, now that we are comfortable, let me just say I apologize for the method of action we chose to do all of this. I’m well aware that you feel as if you have been kidnapped, which in all sense of the word you have been, and for that I am deeply sorry.” Sage leaned forward then, placing a large, firm hand on my knee. “Understand this, though; it was not for no reason. We have been keeping track of movement in the kingdoms for a while now, and we knew of this attack well before it happened. We orchestrated this kidnapping to save you. Do you know why?”

I thought about it, then frowned. “Take your hand off of me,” I snapped. Sage smiled and he did so. “I do not accept your apology. In answer to your last question, I couldn’t possibly figure out why criminals do the things they do. After all, I am not a criminal.”

“If you can’t get in the mind of a criminal,” Sage said, his voice growing in size, “then you are not fit to be a king. What man can judge a man he cannot understand? No man can do that, not well anyway.” Stretching out his arms, he cracked his neck then began cracking each finger individually. “You were taken away from your castle to remove a piece of the puzzle. Being the heir to the Avocado throne, you were to play a pivotal role in this new development. Cashew would use you as a face for their ownership, using you to speak to the people and gaining support for the new way of life. And they would use you until you were useful no more,” which he punctuated with a resounding crack of his thumb.

What he said made sense with the knowledge available to me. And his apology was heartfelt. Still, my refusal to believe him was strong.

“What makes you think I should believe you?” I asked, tapping a nervous finger on my forearm.

“Simple,” Sage smiled. “You either stay with me, and get through this alive. Or I let you go, and you wake up dead tomorrow.”

“If they want to use me, then why would they kill me?”

“Good question, for a dull boy,” he growled. “But a simple answer: you’ve been gone too long. They have already told your story. You’re dead, and as far as they are concerned that means you running around alive is a liability.”

“And how are you aware that’s the case?” I asked, incredulous. “Who told you? An informant? A soldier at the castle during the coup?”

Frowning, Sage admitted, “Right now it’s merely a hypothesis—”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“See, you’re just a glorified liar—”

“A hypothesis,” he yelled, bringing my end of the argument to an abrupt halt. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and finished, “A hypothesis that is based on years of playing these war games. I’ve been around, kid. I’ve seen more than you could possibly read about in that library you hang about in.”

“Library?” I repeated, confused. Sage looked away for a second, fast but noticeable. “And before that you said you knew about my poor marks in combat training. Was it just my country’s affairs you were studying, or was I also in your syllabus?”

Rubbing his forehead, he said, “Studying you was something that needed to be done to know how and when to find you, and figure out how to go about retrieving you. There was no other motivation.”

Which I didn’t believe, not for a second. Once we got onto the subject of myself, he’d become less sure of himself, his voice losing that trademark power of his. Something was up, and I had to find out.

Sage yawned and stretched, then fell back in his bed. “I’m going to catch some shut eye. Wake me up when Basil comes back, or take a nap yourself. Tomorrow will most likely be a long day.”

He was right, of course; it would be a long day. However, if he truly believed I could sleep right then and there, he was a fool.

♣   ♣   ♣

I don’t recall what I was thinking or really doing in the time between when Sage began his nap and Basil returned, but I do remember looking out the window a lot, enjoying the view in some capacity. Now that I could actually look at the town, I saw it was nothing like Persea; where Persea was a massive, bustling city filled with tons of more upper class society, the Red Bay was far from such an echelon of prudeness; it seemed no one walking the streets was without a weapon, children included, and everyone wore clothes that kept their features hidden, as if everyone were hiding secrets. I didn’t want to admit it, but if that were the case then we were hiding in the perfect place already, our disguises being in plain sight.

It made me resent Sage even more.

Basil slammed the door inward so loud that I nearly fell from the window. When I turned to see what the problem was, I saw that there was in fact no problem, Basil was just having trouble walking in with all the food he was carrying.

“Sorry,” he giggled, “Dunno my own strength sometimes. You mind?”

I did mind. So I sat and watched while he struggled to unload the spread onto the small table we had; there was a large container of liquid, and three bowls of a soup that looked especially viscous and smelled of questionable meaty origin. Basil saw my face, and instead of being angry for me not helping him, he just sighed and nodded. “I know, not exactly the most attractive looking food. The taste is also questionable, but I haven’t gotten sick and I would have been by now so it should be safe.”

My upper lip curled as a bubble popped in one bowl. “What is it?”

“I’m told,” he sighed again, scratching his head, “That this is some kind of fish stew.”

“Fish? What kind of fish?”

“I asked the same thing.”

We looked at each other and Basil started laughing, shaking his head, then he began downing his bowl of soup. I took a sip and put it down, leaving it untouched for the remainder of the night. Sage was still knocked out when I looked at him, so I walked over and shook his body until he lurched awake, sucking air like he was underwater.

Breathing shakily, he glared at us before slowly coming to his senses. “Basil,” he grunted, voice cracking awake.

“Sage,” he nodded. “You enjoy your nap?”

“Somewhat,” he said, yawning. Basil passed him a bowl and he wolfed it down without question. “So, what have you learned? Anything of value?”

“There are murmurings,” Basil lowered his voice, and we all leaned in so we could hear each other. I wasn’t sure why, but they wanted to speak as quietly as possible. If anyone wanted to eavesdrop, I was sure we would have noticed. But they were paranoid, and I was not the most powerful man in the room; my reason had no sway.

“Murmurings?” Sage prodded.

Nodding, Basil continued, “Already people speak of the coup. Cashew’s people have spread rumors as fast as they could, letting everyone know that Avocado has fallen. People are confused, unsure of how to take it. We weren’t at war until last night, after all. Now the commoners are expected to believe they are a part of a different regime, all from hearsay.”

Sage leaned back in his bed, scratching at the scruffy green beard growing on his chin. “Then a rebellion is in the works?”

Basil smiled wryly. “It will be squashed, of course. Cashew has people posted all over here, and I would assume they are in every major city. Any uprising will be removed before it could begin. I spotted at least two men of opposing fealty in the pub, and they were eyeing up the would be rebels with some hungry eyes.”

“Anyone talking about the boy?”

This time Basil smiled genuinely. “Not a soul spoke a word of him, sir.”

Sage chuckled low, filled with vibrato. “Good. Then they didn’t account for this. What of transportation, have we a boat?”

Basil sighed, shrugging. “If you could call it that, yeah. All that was available on short notice was a longboat.”

When he said longboat, Sage’s eyes darted over to mine and I became uneasy. “We can make do,” he smirked. “Good work, Basil, good work.”

“Thank you, Sage. Where will we be going then?”

Sage waved a hand, “I’ll tell you in the morning. Boy, come here, I need to talk to you in private.”

Pulling my cloak around me, I followed him into the hall, and when he made sure no one was around, he knelt down so we were eye level and spoke in a hushed whisper, filled with urgency. “There are going to be a lot of people after you, boy. We won’t be able to outrun all of them.”

He let that hang in the air, and when he kept staring at me without blinking I turned away, unable to meet his gaze.

“You know that I know about your bad marks in combat.”

I kept my eyes at the floor. I could tell where this was going, at least somewhat. Nothing could prepare me for the extreme that he would take it.

“I also know you don’t like me. And I get that. I don’t need you to like me. But if you’re going to survive this, and save your kingdom, you have to let me train you.”

Still keeping my eyes to the ground, I asked, “What makes you think you can make me stronger when everyone else couldn’t? Even our greatest generals failed to train me, they gave up when I could barely lift a sword. I’m too sickly for combat.”

“I never back away from a challenge,” he said, louder than he wanted to. For some reason, his eyes were wet; was he crying? “Please,” he reiterated. “I can make you a fantastic warrior. If you just do as I say, you can return to Avocado a hero, instead of continuing to live as a recluse.” He held out a hand, pinky extended. “We make an oath right now. What do you say, boy?”

There was no way he’d let me say no.

I’d have to travel with him anyway.

Plus, he was crying; old men shouldn’t cry.

“Sure.”

We locked our pinky’s bobbing them up and down thrice.

“Fortune smiles on the promised,” we said in unison, the traditional oath.

I was going to pull free but he locked my finger down and pulled me a little closer. “You know what happens if you break this oath, right?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry. Young boys are untrustworthy.” He let me go and ruffled my hair, smiling at me. “Your training begins tomorrow. Do rest well. Of all of us, you will need to rest the most.”

And that was how I made the unfortunate mistake of becoming Sage’s student, a decision that while I had little actual say in, would still bring me more misfortune than I could have possibly prepared for. It was never his fault, though. No, the fault was my own in most cases. I even started it with a bad decision; the decision to stay awake.