"Had a squiz 'round my parts for him, but no one's heard of an Oswald in a gray cloak."
Zharrak clenched its fist. "Where he coulda gone? I asked around an' no one's gotta clue."
Aelindor frowned. "'Tis even so with me. I did inquire at the inn if he had returned, yet he had not. For two days' space he hath not come again. I confess, a disquiet hath settled upon me."
Around them, a hubbub began to bubble up.
"What's goin' on?"
Korrin pointed in a direction with his widened eyes. "LOOK!"
Zharrak and Aelindor followed his finger, flabbergasted at the sight before them.
"Heyyyy!" Oswald waved from afar. Beside him, the young prince was doing a poor job of maintaining a regal stride, his steps frequently breaking into an eager, boyish skip to keep up with him. Around them, people looked at them with tilted heads—their whispers questioning the prince's company.
"Look who I got!" Oswald pointed at the prince.
The Mary Band of Idiots ran up to Oswald.
"Where were ya the past two days and… Is that His Highness?"
Aelindor bowed, followed by Zharrak and Korrin. "'Tis mine honour to make thy most noble acquaintance, Your Highness. Yet wherefore dost thou attend upon him? For two days hath he been absent."
"Wherefore? Because it is he to whom I owe my very life. He is my preserver."
All his friends' eyes were on Oswald.
"I can explain. Remember when I told you I'd do my solo quest?"
"That ya did."
"Right, so the request was to clean the dam in the forest for a village connected to it. I followed the directions, got to the dam and cleaned it. Then, men screaming interrupted my return. I ran to the source, finding guards encircling a boy—the prince here—protecting him from an orc. It took out his protection in a single swing. After that, everything was a blur. Next thing I know, I wake up in the castle's guest room. I was asked to follow to the throne room, where I discovered the boy I saved was the prince. And the rest is history. But seeing you guys here, I think you've been trying to find me."
Korrin nodded excessively. "Yeah, but no one had a clue who ya were or where ya rocked up from."
"I mean, that's understandable. I haven't used this kingdom's facilities other than Aelindor's inn for a night's sleep."
Zharrak scratched under its muzzle. "Now ya said it, makes every bit'o sense."
"Yep. Anyways, all this talking and recalling has made me hungry. Should've asked for food there, but eh, I get to eat with you guys."
"I know a ripper spot, best feed in town, hands down."
And so, Oswald and his friends—alongside the prince—headed out to eat.
He should've eaten at the castle. I mean come on! The queen said anything you want, you selfless buffoon!
* * *
She wasn't kidding when she said the spies would protect him. Look at them, blue-cloaked and perched on rooftops, Assassin's Creed style.
After their meal, he and the othersheaded to the guildhouse to get their first team quest.
Korrin began, "Reckon what our first request'll be, hey?"
"Somethin' like exterminatin' monsters, or protectin' somebody important."
Will they give us escort quests at our level? I really need to learn this world's stu—
Oswald felt a sensation, like heat on the back of his neck.
What?!
He turned around, rubbing the back of his neck.
What is this…? Spidey Senses?
His gaze shifted from one person to the next: a dog-eared family chatting among themselves, human children eating bread, a black-cloaked figure, a couple.
WAIT!
His gaze shot back at the black-cloaked person, their gaze lowered, arms hidden in the cloak.
Is it because of him? Why? If it is then… what do I do? This… sensation's telling me he's the bad guy, but I have no proof.
He pinched his chin, gaze lowered.
If he's bad, then he has a target… The prince! If he's that guy's target then… Hmm… Ah hah! Maybe while our backs are turned during the quest request, he'll try to stab the prince. It doesn't matter if he gets caught—his goal must be achieved… like a skilled assassin. Yeah.
He nodded to himself.
Let's go with that plan. Another thing…
He looked at his friends.
Should I… inform the—
"What is the matter, savior?"
The prince, walking beside him, noticed his concerned expression. Hearing him, his friends turned to Oswald.
Here goes nothing.
"Look, this is serious. Everybody, look ahead. Again, this is not a joke!"
The serious tone made everybody heed his command.
"We are being followed. They're black-cloaked, and their target must be the prince. I have a plan."
"Spill it. The guildhouse's a comin'."
He's right—the guildhouse is two buildings down.
"I suggest you guys should sit at a table by the reception. My job is exposition—while the prince walks beside me—I want everyone to know he's the threat. And you all, apprehension. It's in the name."
He let out a silent whistle. "Good luck. I hope the plan will go as planned."
His friends gave a nod, still looking ahead as they turned to the guildhouse entrance.
* * *
Together, they entered. Silence fell again—too deafening. Amplified by the prince's presence and the tension of what would happen next. His friends, like Oswald, betrayed their tension in their own ways. Zharrak clenched its trembling fist, Korrin brushed his hair with his hand, Aelindor adjusted his hat and coat—already perfectly in place.
Ho boy. Hooo boy, it's about to begin.
Whispers followed them past each table. Adventurers' gazes shifted between the prince and Oswald's friends. Though unplanned, the table near the reception was empty.
Oswald whispered, "Take your positio—"
CREAK!
The door behind him opened as the last word barely escaped. The world fell silent; only slow, deliberate footsteps sounded behind him. His gaze fell on the prince while facing forward.
"Your Highness, this is real life…"
The footsteps drew closer.
"I'm… afraid as you are, and I… I won't sugarcoat it."
It drew even closer, the prince's lips began trembling.
"It worsens when your protectors are outside… and all of us are inside."
He let out a silent whistle, his eyes closed. The footsteps were directly behind them now—close enough to smell the scent of oiled leather and something metallic. Every ounce of his heightened perception screamed toward the space over his right shoulder.
"Remember, when things like this happen… don't let it stop you. Let it strengthen yo—"
CLAP!
The clap drew the attention of every adventurer present, followed by gasps from those who couldn't control their shock. The sound wasn't a clap of celebration, but the sharp, wet smack of his palm against a sweaty wrist.
Oswald's eyes snapped open. He hadn't even turned yet his left hand had shot backward on pure instinct, intercepting the thrust—an inch from the prince's spine.
After the shock passed, "QUICK! APPREHEND THIS MAN!"
His command broke the trance, everyone jumping into action. The assassin was knocked to the ground, the dagger was knocked free from his hand.
"I will request the guards!" A man's voice called out, then the entrance door opened with multiple footsteps leaving.
The assassin, pinned under the weight of several people, looked at Oswald with a knowing, cold grin not worn by a failed killer.
I don't like that face. There are more of you?!
The door burst open.
"WHERE IS HE?" the guard at the front yelled, four others behind him.
A Brown Horse beastman archer pointed toward the reception. "Yonder, by the reception!"
The guards spotted the apprehended assassin and cuffed him. One of the guards' heads swiveled.
"Who took this man into custody?"
In unison, all the fingers pointed at Oswald.
"Wha— Me?! I didn't do anythi—" He sputtered, falling on deaf ears.
"Hmph, I see." The leading guard turned around dismissively—all the humble ones act like him.
The guards headed for the exit, with the assassin in custody. Before the door closed, cheers exploded in the guildhouse. The door's thud blocked out the rest.
* * *
ns216.73.216.66da2
and then Add to home screen.