Chapter 1

The brush along the river gave way to palms and thicker growth as a wavy shape grew on the distant horizon. Even in the morning the Sun beat down on them from behind. Tickle sat at the front of the wagon with Magnus where the cool wind combined with the shade of their wagon to protect them; Tickle's clown makeup served as a form of sunscreen, but Magnus only had his handlebar mustache to protect his face.

The traveling theater on which they rode floated about a meter above the ground. The brightly painted dark wood stood out against the landscape of Ramaal Muhtariqa, the Scorching Sands. The shape on the horizon grew closer and clearer. It was a dense thicket of green - the outskirts of the nation of Oasis. The caravan sped over an old weathered and cracked sandstone path atop the sands and before the Sun had moved even 5 degrees across the sky the caravan had burst through the wall of green. The shade of the forested path cooled Tickle’s face.

No matter how many times Tickle had visited she still found it beautiful how the desert gave way to the rainforest. In one direction blue skies with barely a cloud in them stood contrasted against the golden sands. Sands broken only by a small strip of green and brown grasses that bordered the glimmering white reflected off the river. But in the other, and now enclosing the caravan completely, was a verdant landscape. The sandstone path continued, now patchy with moss.

In what felt like no time at all the sun burst forth from the canopy and was in front of the caravan. The thinned trees gave way to the white sandstone gates of Oasis’ eponymous capitol city.

A breeze rustled the leaves of the forest. The sounds of Oasis were always Tickle’s favorite part. The rush of the waves in the harbor, the whispering leaves. But then again there was also the food. Her attention snapped back to reality as the caravan was approached by two guards, each wearing the insignia of Aethia.

"Hail and well met," said Magnus with his usual performer's flourish.

"Halt, state your business."

"We're a traveling circus. We’re here to perform for the Emperor’s Day Festival"

The guard grunted in acknowledgment. "Troupe name?"

"Madame Zara..." added the voice of an older female from within the caravan.

The next line was delivered by eight voices in chorus as six heads appeared out of the depths of the wagon-theater.

"...AND THE MARVELOUS MINSTRELS!"

The guards stumbled back, a little surprised, and one of them said, "Please don't do that," with a sigh before the other added,

"We'll need your names and occupations. And we'll need to know where you'll be staying and for how long. We’re on extra alert for the festivities. We’re not taking any chances and we’re not putting up with any…” he paused; eyed them over, “funny business.”

First was a gray cat woman in a long flowing skirt dyed deep crimson on which a mesh of coins jingled. Her cropped top, patterned in black and gold left her furry stomach exposed. "Madame Zara, fortune teller" she said before detailing that they had a standing arrangement with the owner of the Watering Hole, one Stojan Stroiker, to set up camp on his land and provided a few contacts with which the guard might verify the troupe's legitimacy.

"Alright, and everyone else?"

"Magnus," He was standing now. He wore a simple white linen shirt crisp against his tanned skin, his hair a coiffed dark black and his mustache perfectly in place. "Strongman."

"Hector," said a dark skinned man in a top hat with a flowing cape, a simple black velvet on the outside but with a dazzling purple lining. He did not look as if he had just traveled across both rainforest and desert. "Stage magician," he added.

"Amara, acrobat" she had brown skin and cropped dark hair. She stood next to a girl with tattooed olive skin and short spiky green hair.

"Blaze, fire-eater," the green-haired girl added.

"Sage,"

"And Saffron,"

"Musicians" they finished in a singsong unison. Two fair-skinned wrinkled women, one wore a vest and a bow tie, the other a frilly dress. They were otherwise identical down to the curly red dye job. "And twins.”

"And, last but certainly not least," Hector added, the guard rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Our beloved jester"

"Tickle!". The bells on her shoes jingled. Her jester hat flopped as she posed into an exaggerated curtsy. “And no funny business, jester’s honor.” she added with a wink.

The guards gave an exasperated sigh as they motioned for the gates to be opened.

The Sun fell low over the ocean as the Minstrels finished setting up their camp outside the Watering Hole. The inn was in the harbor district, only a few streets from the ocean. Their camping ground was their usual - a large dirt courtyard enclosed by the inn and its neighbors and only accessible through a gate at the back of the inn and a side door off the taverna. Stojan the innkeep was an old friend. He almost always had vacancies inside but the Minstrels were nomads at heart and would always insist they preferred camping.

"Soups on!" shouted Sage and Saffron. Setting up camp was old hat for them at this point, even arriving so late in the afternoon as they had. Tickle went out to the markets to refresh supplies then came back to help with the odd task, Zara set up her fortune telling table on the street to make some quick coin, Hector and Magnus moved the heavy stuff while Amara and Blaze got the tents and beds ready (and then also helped move the heavy stuff). All the while Sage and Saffron cooked.

Since Oasis was a port city the market had loads of seafood, fresh caught daily out of the rivers in the rainforest and Brinthos, the bordering Brine Sea. Together with fresh fruits and vegetables grown in the country’s microclimate they became a stew. The smell attracted the Minstrels to the table better than Sage and Saffron's dinner call ever could.

Tomatoes, peppers, fennel, white whine, white fish, mussels, clams, crabs, and ground spices all blended together to draw you in. The crusty bread from the inn was perfect to soak up the spicy broth.

"We thank you for this food," began Madame Zara.

"And for our family." finished Tickle with a big smile.

Hector smiled too. Tickle was turning 19 tomorrow but she still added that line every night like she had started doing soon after they took her in when she was only six. Monsters, he thought, but then let the thought pass from his mind. It's ok, she's here now.

"Ok I can't wait to eat anymore, let's go" said Amara impatiently, her spoon already flying towards the bowl.

"Please!" added Magnus as he quickly followed suit.

"Well, hold on, shouldn't we wish Tickle a happy birthday first?" added Hector.

"It's not her birthday till tomorrow, old man" retorted Amara between spoonfuls. By this point everyone besides Hector had started eating.

With the aid of Stojan’s brews and bottles the conversation became looser as the night waxed on. Dinner was finished and before the table was cleared the minstrels were already giving Sage and Saffron song requests. Although quite drunk, Sage and Saffron still considered themselves two of the best musicians on the continent. "We should know, we've been with them all" they would always joke.

Of course, they were really some of the best musicians on the continent and nobody could resist dancing for long when they broke out their fiddle and flute. The night grew long, and the players weary, and finally all the minstrels bid each other a good night and retired to their beds.

Flint Tarozaki, son of Taro. The name's significance weighed on his mind more heavily since his parents’ disappearance. He was fairly certain he wouldn't find them here, in Oasis, but he hadn't really had a choice in coming here. He thought of the punch; of the crack under his knuckles. Bastard deserved it.

His captain had tried to take an unfair amount of the crew's cut. He had lost his temper. The crew should have mutinied with him. That guy was probably using trickster magic to manipulate them. He'd seen his mom do it, she had been able to enhance her persuasiveness, her words carefully selected, and somehow imbued with will. A merchant trick, also favored by politicians. He figured he'd been kicked off because the captain didn't have any combat skills or his fate might have been a little worse.

He checked his pocket for coins even though he knew there weren't any. He'd need to make some fast scratch. And figure out somewhere to sleep for the night.

He walked by a hologram. It depicted a handsome man with skin of pink cream - a healthy 60 years old. He had medium length dirty blonde hair pulled back in a way that looked both haphazard and purposeful. He had a graying goatee and a shimmering smile. He wore a white suit adorned with gold - too militaristic in its cut for a noble and yet too aristocratic in its tastes for a general. The man in the hologram spoke in a smooth and calculated voice.

“My fellow citizens. As you prepare to celebrate my birthday I humbly thank you for your continuing support. In my 32 years as your elected emperor, I have worked tirelessly to stamp out crime and unite our world. I know we can continue to build a future our children can be proud of. Free from crime. Free from war. And free from fear.

“These next few days, you may see more of my men and women patrolling your streets. I have even personally dispatched my loyal Knight-General, Lord Justicar, head of the Dragon Council along with his personal battalion in order to help your local guard more comfortably maintain the public safety. Rest assured they are only here for your protection, so that you may enjoy the festivities safely and without fear. As always if you ever see any guard in the employ of Aethia overstep their mandate, please file a report. The Aethian guard serves and protects, they do not terrorize or bully.” the holographic Emperor gave a salute before continuing “Please, my friends, eat, drink, and be merry.”

The last words of the hologram faded with distance but Flint still chuckled. He'd been to plenty of cities that Baxoth's armies had "cleaned up" and he’d never once seen a guard held accountable. Not to mention there was always shit going on in the back alleys. The same back alleys where he was headed now. Eager to fill his empty stomach.

Madame Zara’s booth was set up on the corner. Her table was adorned in fine tablecloths and the smell of incense wafted off of thuribles set up behind her. She could see herself in the reflection of the crystal ball. A street over, in the courtyard of the Watering Hole, the rest of the minstrels rehearsed the lines of the play they were set to perform in only two days’ time. Holidays and birthdays were always a time to bust out some of their favorite routines.

Tickle was practicing sleight of hand and a joint juggling routine with Hector, who had taught her the basics of trickster magic long ago even though he himself was far from a master. Hector always considered himself more of a stage magician than an actual illusionist. Still, he wasn't averse to throwing in the occasional real-magic flourish.

"Alright little one. I think that's enough for today," Hector began. "Why don't you go see Zara for your yearly fortune telling, business is usually slow this time of day."

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot." Tickle replied though Hector recognized the devious look on her face. The face she always made when she had a plan for a prank. "Love you, Hector, see you tonight."

"See you tonight, Tickle! Don't get into too much trouble out there."

Tickle approached Zara’s table. "I see Hector let you out early? Ready for your reading?" Zara asked as she fanned a deck of stylized cards on the table before sweeping them back into the shape of a deck in one smooth motion and setting them on the table in front of her. "You know the drill, sweet pea."

Tickle reached down with her gloved hand, picked up the deck, and gave it a thorough shuffling - first a riffle shuffle, then a one handed cut, and a card jumped from one of her hands to the other before setting the shuffled deck back down and cutting it three times.

"The first card..." Zara shifted to her stage voice. "Ah the fool. Fitting for such a beaming young clown, full of potential. And a possible harbinger of journey,” a beat for effect, “and adventure.

"The second card…” she continued, “Ah, the Lovers..." Zara raised her eyebrows at Tickle "Anyone special on your mind?"

Tickle mimed her finger to her lips.

"Very well.” Zara shrugged nonchalantly. “And, the third card… The…" Zara flipped the card and a look of confusion shot across her furry face. "Red Herring?" The front of the card was hand drawn, slipped into the deck by Tickle when she shuffled. Little glowing fish appeared to jump out of the card. Tickle was laughing. "I guess I can't let you cut the deck anymore, string bean."

"Oh don't worry I don’t have to touch the cards to be able to prank you" Tickle replied with a wink, dispelling the illusion. As she did a small bottle fell out of her breast pocket and splattered red onto the ground. "Aww, damn it, now I need to make more fake blood if I'm going to prank Blaze and Amara..."

Zara laughed. "Ok, ok, child try not to make too much of a mess of my stand, go have some more birthday fun. I'll be here when you get back for dinner." And with that she planted a motherly kiss on the top of Tickle's jester hat.

Flint was glad he had escaped without too much damage and with his dice in hand. He'd always had a knack for getting into trouble and a gift for getting out of it. He rolled the cold stone dice his grandfather had carved him. Twelve, he thought before they stopped tumbling. Sure enough two sixes greeted him. He picked them up and rolled them again. Snake-eyes, he willed and the dice both rolled one.

Of course that trick only works so long as they don't make you switch out the dice; and they had. He rubbed his shoulder and tried to stretch his neck. That guy's elbow had done a number on his back, but he was still able to get out with a bag of coin. Even after a night at the inn he was still sore.

Flint looked in the mirror. The face that stared back was covered in golden bronze fur, as was the top of his head. His fur faded to a sandy brown on his chest and stomach which he liked to leave exposed. Like most monkey-type beast men he had prominent ears. His were adorned with gold earrings, which matched the golden fang in his smile. He was glad he hadn't had to pawn off some of his jewelry.

As he left the inn and headed to the main street he passed by another beast-person. A feline fortune teller who tried to wave him over, but he kept walking. The future is always in flux, he could hear his grandfather saying. While some may be able to catch glimpses of the future from the Weave we all make our own destinies. He fingered the dice in his pocket. We can even give probability a little nudge sometimes.

He instinctively headed towards the water. It was one of the best places to think. The crash of the waves helped drown out some of his racing thoughts. Reminded him of the long days with his parents running between the islands. Of sitting in the crows nest. I've got to come up with a plan, he thought to himself.

He lay down on the sandy beach at the city's edge, staring into the cloudy sky. The turquoise sea glimmered in the sunlight. "They said they were going to Ahi Hau,” the Frostfire Islands, “on a delivery," he said aloud with nobody around to hear it. And here I am stuck on the equator, he added in thought.

The sun was lower in the sky now and smoke snuck out from the entryway to the tent as Tickle made her way inside. Inside she found Amara, Blaze, and Magnus talking with Sage and Saffron. They sat in a circle on pillows and were partially obscured by the thick smoke. A hookah filled with emberbud and sunleaf sat between them.

"Happy Birthday!" they said in unison.

"Zara told us one of your cards was the Looooovers" Blaze teased Tickle as she took a seat on one of the pillows with the rest of them. "Did you meet any cute boys?"

"Or girls?" Amara added.

Tickle laughed. "Oh, no, nothing like that. I stacked the deck."

"Oh, child, you should know by now the cards often still have a tricky way of being right," Sage said before taking a puff off the hookah. 

"Maybe you will meet someone this year," Saffron continued.

Magnus raised his thick eyebrows suggestively. Tickle laughed. "Whatever happens, happens" she shrugged. "Besides, knowing the future rarely works out in the stories."

Sage and Saffron broke in, their voices croaked, “You will die,” said Sage. “On the day that the Sun does not rise.” Saffron completed.

“Thane’s Curse!” it came from all the rest but Blaze was fastest. “Act 1 Scene 1,” she added. It was a game they played. The elder troupe members would quote a line from a play and the younger troupe members had to place it. It helped them keep the stories fresh in their minds.

“And Act 3 scene 5,” Magnus added. It was a classic tragedy. In it, the Thane thinks himself invincible due to the prophecy foretold at his birth. The Sun always rises, day after day. The Thane embarks on a foolish war convinced of his invulnerability. The day after the war had claimed his son and only heir’s life, the Thane too met his fate. “You will die on the day the Son does not rise” he says to himself with his last breath.

“So what were your other cards?” Amara asked.

“The Fool and the ‘Red Herring’” Tickle smiled.

The smoke caught in Blaze’s lungs as she simultaneously laughed and coughed “That’s such a lame joke,” Blaze managed to say.

“Yeah the fake death routine she did for us was much funnier” Amara added half-sarcastically before taking a drag herself.

The morning of the festival Flint's coin purse was already empty again. His stomach growled at him as he walked along the bustling street. The wafting scent of food from the street vendors didn't help.

In a booth next to him skewers of seasoned snake meat sizzled on the grill. The sharp smell of char and spice hit his nose. Another few meters down the street a stand served barbecued eel fresh caught from the river. Beef kabobs, shawarma, cheesy flatbreads, fried dumplings, steamed dumplings, and fried fish. His head was spinning. His stomach growled again, insistently. It was too much.

He spotted a stand with food within reach of passersby. It was a basket of bread and a pile of fruit. He scanned the crowd to see if any guards were around. Two, he noted. But they're distracted. The stand attendant's back was turned, working on making another batch of breads. Now, he thought.

He was quick. He snatched a loaf of bread with one hand, and a prickly pear with the other.

"Hey, thief!"

"Shit." He took off. His strides were wide but the guards were quick on his tail. He was fast but if one of those guards was a skilled fighter there's no way he could out speed them. Luck seemed to be on his side, they don’t know how to flash step, he thought.

Flint ran in front of an alleyway. He always checked for dead ends before committing. He'd been caught that way back home a few too many times. There was sunlight at the other end and the sound of a crowd; this one was clear. He pivoted, bounding off the ground and through the alleyway. The crowd was gathering around a stage, cheering as a man in a top hat and cape exited the stage. Perfect, he thought. He ducked into the crowd and bit into the prickly pear.

On the stage Tickle entered from behind the curtain. The stage was able to fold small enough to fit in a pocket. The Minstrels had saved up months to be able to afford that piece of tech.

"Hello, hello, hello! Give it up for our beloved emcee Hector. He’ll be back soon folks, he’s also our next act! But for now, I'm your humble host Tickle. Are you all having a grand time for the grand birthday of the grand ruler of the grand republic?"

A few small laughs from the crowd mixed with some cheers.

"The story we shall tell for you today is one of romance, of adventure, of revenge. It's the story of a simple farm boy and a fair princess. Of a crafty trio of kidnappers - a giant, a swordsman, and a genius. Of a dread pirate. And it’s a story of true love." She put her hand to the side of her mouth like she was telling the audience a secret. She pretended to whisper as she projected her voice to the back of the crowd "That's where you guys are supposed to go 'awwwwww'."

And from the audience came an "Awwww."

"Yes, today's show is one of AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION" she used a minor illusion to amplify her voice. "But of course, you'll need to know what to do now won't you. We've memorized our lines--"

A voice came from backstage, it was Magnus, "Well most of them!"

"Yes, we've memorized most of our lines, but we've made yours easy. When I give you this signal," she mimed a lovestruck face and brought her hands to her heart, "I want the whole crowd to go 'awwwww' just like we did before, ok let's try it."

"Awwwww"

"Perfect. No notes. Have you guys thought about auditioning? We could use some audience plants like you!"

A bit of laughter.

"Ok and every time you see the evil Prince Humperbug come on stage I want you to give a great big boo. Let's try it."

Hector came on stage, dressed in his most princely garb and a round of boos ensued from the crowd.

"And, I'd like everyone to give me a great big hiss. Can’t have boos without hisses!"

"Hissssssssssssssss," came from the audience.

"Perfect, now you won't need a big long hiss again until the intermission! The latrines are over there by the way!" Tickle pointed. “If you need to go, go to the latrines, not on your neighbor’s shoes. Oh, sorry” she added, feigning a mistake, “that’s the line we’re supposed to use over in Krynn.” It was an easy pander and an easy laugh. “You guys tend to be a little less primal,” she continued as she pretended to survey the crowd. “Well, most of you.”

There was some more laughter from the crowd. By now the guards had gotten some backup and were now searching the back of the crowd for their thief.

"And finally, before we start we'll need a volunteer from the audience." She put her hand to her forehead and in an exaggerated motion pretended to scan the crowd again. Her eyes fell on a monkey-type beast man with a loaf of bread in his mouth. "You over there! Yes the monkey-man eating the bread"

Ah shit, Flint thought. He tried to wave her off, tried to shake his head no.

"Yes you, sir come on up!"

Flint couldn't help but be pushed forward by the crowd. Eventually he ended up on stage.

"And what's your name?" Just as Tickle asked the question a voice was heard from the back of the crowd.

"Thief!"

“Who’s parents would name them that?!” Tickle joked.

The guards rushed forwards. But the minstrels were quick to action, they had never really looked down on thieves the way others in Aethia did. Sometimes people had to steal to survive.

Tickle continued. "Oh my it looks like we've got ourselves a wanted man here. Let's see if those grand guards of our grand republic can catch him, folks!"

From behind the curtain on the stage Hector, still dressed as Prince Humperbug, wheeled out a large ornately painted sarcophagus.

"Get in here," Tickle whispered to Flint.

"There's no way out," he said.

"Trust us" she winked before pushing him backwards into the open door which Hector promptly slammed shut.

The guards made it onto the stage.

"Open the door"

"If you insist," Hector replied, opening the sarcophagus to reveal Amara inside who shrugged at the guard with a sly smile before delivering a swift kick to his jaw. To her surprise the crowd cheered.

"What a development, folks, but that's all part of the excitement of live theater! I'm going to leave you all in Hector's masterful hands but I have a feeling he won’t be sticking around long either" Tickle added as she ducked backstage.

Zara was pulling Flint out from a trapdoor under the stage.

"Sneak him out, Tickle"

"Gotcha"

Tickle grabbed Flint by the wrist and dragged him along before Flint wrested himself from her grip. "Did you steal from Baxoth himself? Those guards seem pissed"

"I only stole some food," Flint shrugged.

"I've been there," Tickle replied as they ducked into the crowd and pretended to belong. "You never told the crowd your name"

"Flint," he paused before adding "Tarozaki"

"Tickle," she replied.

Flint looked back, there was a guard following them. "We gotta lose him."

They ducked into an alleyway and rushed through to the other side. As they approached the end of the narrow passage three guards stepped out to block their way.

"Shit" Flint said.

"Causing trouble on the Emperor's Birthday?" one of the guards said. "You know Aethia doesn't tolerate criminals."

Flint ignored the guard. He took a quick look around the alleyway. They were blocked in on both sides but there was only one guard behind them to the three in front. To their side were some barrels that may have been used cooking oil. There was also a ladder on the same wall back past the guard in the rear. "I've got an idea," he said. He pulled out a small pole, shorter than the length of his forearm. Suddenly the pole grew, getting longer. As it extended the ends of the pole shot forth and hit both the middle guard of the three in front and the one behind in the torso, knocking the breath out of both of them and dropping them to their knees.

Tickle's eyes widened, "Coooool."

"Duck," he said.

As she ducked, Flint spun the pole and hit the barrels of oil, the staff bouncing back. Shit, he realized, Oil’s heavy. I can't knock it down like that. One of the remaining guards rushed towards Flint, his shoulder making contact with Flint’s torso knocking the staff out of his hand. It returned to its original size as it lay on the ground.

Flint wrestled with the guard who tackled him, trying to get out from under the pin. The other standing guard made a move towards Tickle but she was able to dodge to the side with a cartwheel. She picked up the staff from the ground and tossed it to Flint who was able to club the guard pinning him. He wedged the staff between the wall of the building and the barrels and extended it, this time the barrels tipped over. Leverage, he thought proudly as the oil splashed onto the stone pavement. The standing guard slipped to the ground. "Ladder" he said as he pointed behind him; the oil encroaching at his feet.

As they climbed one of the winded guards managed to regain his footing and he grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder. Tickle made the illusion of fire in her hand and gestured to the guard.

“Come after us and that oil goes up in flames,” she threatened emptily - but it was enough to deter the guard. They arrived on the roof.

"You a good jumper?" Flint asked, already leaping the gap between the buildings.

"Taught by an acrobat" Tickle replied, already midair. "We should find a way to lay low." She continued as they jumped to the next building.

"Edge of town then. All the guards are focused on the festival."

They jumped down into another alleyway. Tickled pulled out a hat and a facemask. "Put these on"

"Where'd you get those?"

"A good performer always has a costume change or two up their sleeve," she replied as she ducked behind a barrel and reappeared wearing a dress and wig.

Flint tied the mask around his face, it covered his mouth and nose. With the hat he was still a bit recognizable.

"How about these too," Tickle handed him some sunglasses. This time Flint saw her pull them from a small bag sewn into her costume.

"Thanks"

"By the way, where'd you get the extend-o pole?" Tickle asked as they made their way out into the crowded street.

"Gramps made it," Flint replied. "And it's not called an 'extend-o pole' it's called Bo."

"That's it? Just Bo?"

"Yeah, just Bo."

"I think you should rename it the amazing extend-o pole" Tickle motioned with her hands and an illusion formed. Stars jumped out from holographic block letters spelling out The Amazing Extend-o Pole.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Flint said. They were getting past the edge of the crowds to the quieter parts of town. He looked back. "I think we lost them."

"I do too. We should meet up with my troupe and help them pack up the camp. We're probably going to skip town until the heat dies down. If you've got nothing else going on you can even tag along for a bit. I'm sure they'll let you." She spun around and began walking back towards the Watering Hole.

"I'm not sure I can. I'm trying to get to the Frostfire Islands"

"That's a long way away, how are you gonna get there if you don't even have enough coin to get food?"

"I can make more."

Tickle nodded. There was a pause in the conversation. Eventually she asked, “Are you traveling alone?”

“Yeah.” Flint replied.

“What happened to your grandpa?”

“What?” he looked taken aback.

“You said he made the amazing extend-o pole. Where’s he? I imagine you could make some serious money if you can make magitek like that.”

“He’s… back at home. He didn’t know I was leaving. And it’s called BO!”

“You mean you just ran away?” Tickle probed.

“I left him a note!” Flint responded defensively.

“Why’d you leave?” Tickle asked.

Flint weighed his options. She helped me, he thought, and she’s certainly more trustworthy than my last captain. And I can ditch her later if I really have to. “My parents are missing. They went out on a shipment. Mom and dad are merchants; they sailed that route all the time. I waited for them for 3 months but they never came back. So I left to find them.”

“So why leave gramps behind?”

Shock overtook Flint’s face. Wait, why didn’t I leave with gramps?, he asked himself.

Tickle continued after realizing Flint didn’t have an answer. "Anyway, you should probably still take a bit to regroup? We can get you back on your feet before you head out."

"Alright, just until I can head out on my own again." Flint accepted.

The Minstrels were already fast at work breaking down camp when Tickle and Flint arrived.

"What needs doing?" Tickle asked.

"Not much,"

"We're almost done," Sage and Saffron replied.

"Just help Magnus load up the heavy stuff and we'll be ready to set out." Zara said.

"Lookouts, see any trouble?" Magnus called out as he single-handedly lifted two full barrels to his side.

"Nothing here."

"All clear."

"Nothing yet." Hector, Amara, and Blaze all called out.

"Alright that's it, let's move." Magnus said as he placed the last two barrels up.

"Hold on, gotta pay Stojan" Zara said as she popped into the inn.

"Who's the new guy?" Blaze asked as they piled into the theater-wagon.

"Flint," he replied. Tickle and Flint were closest to the exit in the rear as everyone settled into their places.

"Alright we're good to go!" Zara shouted as she hopped up onto the wagon which was already lurching forward as it began to speed up.

"Which way are we heading out?" Asked Magnus, steering the wagon. "The gate was closed when we came in, we'll probably get trapped if we go out that way."

"To the beach then," Hector replied.

Flint thought back briefly to the day at the beach from the day before. "It’s high tide! Floating carriages don't work over water!" Flint replied.

"They do if it's shallow enough," Sage responded.

"And if you're desperate enough" Saffron finished.

The carriage was a tight fit down the streets, lined with people for the festival. "Out of the way people!" Hector shouted, his voice magically amplified. He honked a clown horn to get their attention.

"I don't see any guards," Flint said to the group.

"Are you complaining?" Amara asked.

"No, it's just..."

The caravan escaped the clutches of the crowd but found itself blocked by a legion of the Aethian guard, 100 strong. These guards wore a different uniform than those the Minstrels had seen at the gate, or that had chased Flint and Tickle through the crowd. Their look was more polished. They moved in closer step. Behind the caravan the crowd was too thick to retreat.

In the front of the guards stood an imposing figure, a full head above any of the rest of the guards, in a full suit of jet black plate armor that glimmered in the Sun. His helmet evoked the image of a hawk; his chestplate adorned with a detailed hammered relief depicting a woman with a pair of scales.

The hawk-headed man stepped forward. "Madame Zara and the..." he paused, even through his faceplate his disgust was palpable, "Marvelous Minstrels you are under arrest for aiding and abetting a criminal, for fleeing from the scene of a crime, and for being a public nuisance."

The elite guards moved to surround the caravan. It would only take seven steps for them to surround it. The first footsteps fell.

“Any resistance or force will be dealt with harshly,” the hawk-headed man added.

Magnus surveyed the guards as they moved. The minstrels could fight but he could tell this wouldn’t go their way. "I don't think we can fight our way out of this one guys."

The sound of the second footstep.

Tickle looked at Flint. Then in an instant, she took a look at everyone. Sage and Saffron, even now with fear creeping across their faces their jolly nature shone through. Tickle could almost hear their favorite songs playing; could taste their cooking.

The elite guard advanced again. Five steps left.

Magnus, sweat dripped down his brow and his coiffed hair was unusually disheveled. In her ears she could hear him telling Amara and Blaze to lay off when their teasing got too personal, and she thought she could feel the lingering stings of his teasing arm punches.

Four steps remaining.

Amara and Blaze - their faces were red, Blaze’s moreso, almost aflame at the situation they found themselves in. She thought back to when Amara first taught her to do makeup. To Zara’s voice chewing out Blaze when she had accidentally set tickle on fire. To Sage and Saffron laughing at the silly image of her singed jester hat. Even Hector had been laughing.

And back in the moment Tickle looked at Hector, who was gritting his teeth, he had the look of a caged animal. She remembered the first time she saw him on stage. She was so small and he towered high above her on the stage. He was a presence, a force. He’d given her the first real meal she’d had in two years.

Three steps left.

And finally Zara. A dozen birthday tarot readings flashed through her mind. For a moment she was 6 again, and it was Zara’s night to tell her a story. Tickle had fallen asleep during the story but she still remembered feeling a kiss on the top of her head.

She looked back at Flint, my parents are missing, she heard, echoing in her head. A look of determination crossed her face but the words scraped against her memories as she spoke them, they almost caught in her throat. “I… I think Flint and I can slip out,” she blurted. The guards were halfway to the back of the carriage. “He’s looking for his family.” Flint looked surprised.

Two steps left.

Everyone understood. Everyone nodded. “Go.” It was Zara, but to Tickle it always felt like they had all said it. None of that made it easier. Tickle and Flint’s feet struck the pavement simultaneously and they disappeared into the crowd before the guards could round the back of the carriage. The entire moment took seconds. Even so, they were spotted. The guards rounded the corner with the last step.

“Two ran into the crowd, Lord Justicar.”

A sudden whooshing. The hawk-armored man appeared behind the caravan in an instant - his movement a blur. He surveyed the shifting sea of people; too thick to penetrate.

“No matter, they will not get far,” he replied. “Inform Commander Theron his trip to Taelethier will be postponed. We cannot allow criminal scum like them to roam free in this Republic.”

In the thick of the crowd, each step Tickle took from her family felt heavier than the last.