As a youth I wandered, going from town to town in the lowlands and generally bothering the people near me, I wasn’t too proud to admit that. I drank, I fought, I made a damn fool of myself more than once and did things that I would need to explain before God someday. Lost loves, forgotten memories, and enough whisky to turn a preacher to sin. It was years ago, but it was still a part of my life I remembered with some fondness. A man is only a youth once, and it’s his job to adventure and live before settling back down and doing what God intended for him to do on this Earth. There were some regrets, some stupid decisions. And yet I had never been in a jail.

Now in three months, I had been in two.

It smelled less than pleasant, but then this place was little more than the local drunk tank from what I had gathered. There was a lot of punching, swearing and kicking after they got the bag over my head, and it was only removed as I was being shoved into the back of a police carriage along with Morrigan. From there it was a speedy ride through the city, then we were thrown into opposite cells with little in the way of luxury… or anything connected to cleanliness for that matter. I sat in a seemingly permanently damp room that was just tall enough to stand in, and just wide enough that I could pace if I felt the urge. The walls were a faded brick, and the floor was an uneven stone that was remarkably more comfortable to sleep on than the iron bed. I would know, I had been in there for two days already.

I sat with my back against the wall, dressed in the slightly too small prison garments that had been generously provided for me. They did little to fight the cold and the wet of the cell, but then, Morrigan was hardly in better straits. She sat in the cell across from mine, the building itself wasn’t large, maybe large enough for twelve cells in all, from what I could make out, but the conversation between us had been mute and stilted when we bothered to speak at all. In the past two days, I had hardly moved from the spot I sat against except to stretch my back, two long days of the police having seemingly little idea of what to do with us. But then, it was just a matter of waiting.

I could be called dramatic, but my life was over. No home, no wyvern, no money, and I had likely killed a man. It surprised me to realise I regretted all barring the last, but then that was just another sin amongst many. Letting out a breath I leaned my head back against the brick. My body still ached, and would likely for some time still. Distantly I could hear the clang of an officer moving about, the now-familiar jostling of his keys echoing down the hall.

“Ah don’t suppose ya have any Irish shenanigans to get these doors open?” I asked quietly. The foul scent of the cell entered my mouth as I did.

“I can pick a lock, as I told you yesterday.” Morrigan replied, looking up from where she had been staring at the ground.

“But ya left yer picks back at the school.” I finished, allowing something resembling mirth to creep into my voice.

A small smile came onto Morrigan’s face at that, allowing her to at least resemble the woman she was a few days prior. With her prison garb and without her usual makeup, she looked like a remarkably different woman. But the smile was recognizable. “They make a rather poor accessory for dinner parties.”

“Apparently ah do as well,” I replied. “Things are a bit of a mess.”

Morrigan shrugged her shoulders, moving around in her cell for a few moments before sitting down onto the bed. “Having second thoughts about your choice in career Arthur?”

That got a chuckle from me, though little else as the smile dropped. “Ah was one of few men of my age left in my hometown Morrigan. Ah ever tell ya that?”

“You did not.” Morrigan said, her head turning to look at me as she did so.

“Just about everyone moved to the bigger cities for work, ah was too damn stubborn a fool to do so.” I smiled again, a crooked thing. “Damn near everyone ah knew that ah went to school with did so, and ah was about to lose my farm to the ranchers, couldn’t make near enough to keep hold of ‘er. Ah had maybe another season or two before ah would have had to sell it. Then Beithir came crashing into ma barn.”

My smile turned wistful, and I looked towards the ceiling as I spoke. “Ah was just planning on getting a quick payout, but then that whole thing with Wellbrook happened. Ah suppose ah wanted more than that though.”

“What do you mean?” Morrigan asked, now sounding genuinely curious.

“Ah suppose ah wanted an adventure, or somethin’ more than what ah had. Ah like my farm, and it was in my family for generations, but it was a losin’ battle. Wanted to… experience more ah suppose. Fly in an airship, or visit another country. Ah was in a place ah couldn’t win, and ah was just bein’ stubborn about it then lied to myself about my own objectives.”

“Well, you got an adventure out of it.” Morrigan admits.

“More of a Greek tragedy, ah think.” I replied.

Morrigan laughed, the sound rich in the otherwise dreary space. “There you go again, referencing things I would assume you did not know. When do Greek tragedies come between crop rotations?”

“Ah talk like a farmer, ah walk like a farmer, ah have the strength of ah farmer. But that doesn’t make me near stupid. Ah enjoyed my studies. Couldn’t afford books or anythin’ like that. But ah learned whatever was put in front of me.” There was a lot, I was one of the few in town that paid attention. Of course, I also had a good teacher, but I doubt that alone was enough. “This is the moment before the curtain closes and the fate of the hero is left unrevealed.”

“I would imagine they’ll just execute you.” Morrigan offered.

“Oh, absolutely,” I agreed. “But a man is allowed to dream.” I then closed my eyes again, letting my head rest against the brick. I let out a deep breath, trying to relax even a little, ignoring the faint pains. The only sound is that of the faint city outside, and the jingling of keys… that are getting closer?

I opened my eyes again as they approached, it was after breakfast and still too early for lunch. I expected to see the guard coming down the hall, and I did. But I saw Crawford as well. The shock I felt at that must have shown on my face; the dandy smiled at me as the jailer stopped in front of my cell. “Would that make me Horatio then?”

“Ah have no idea who you are talking about,” I answered honestly. But stood up shakily as the door to the cell creaked open. Without a word, the jailer turned around to do the same for Morrigan’s cell, and I gave Crawford as questioning a look as I could muster as I walked quickly through the threshold.

“Unlike you and Morrigan, I still have friends in this city. I purchased a surety for you two until your actual court date… which may be a while, they are rather busy at the moment. We’ll discuss what you owe me later, at the moment you are expected.”

“What do you mean by that?” Morrigan asked, stepping out of her cell.

“In due time,” Crawford replied. Then held out our clothes. “For now I suggest you make yourselves decent.”

---

I expected to hear the usual bustle of the city as I stepped outside the jail.

What I got instead was a roar. A large crowd has choked the street in front of the jail, men, women and children letting out a cheer as I step out of the building. I paused in my steps, nearly tripping as I took in what I was seeing. My head jerked towards Crawford, and the man explained before I even needed to ask.

“You were always popular amongst the lower classes Arthur. Wyvern racing is a rich man’s game, so seeing one of their own was something rather unique to them.” Crawford explained. “I just happened to let slip what Wellbrook did. On top of other offences you have suffered, the lower classes have taken it rather poorly. Such demonstrations have cropped up all over the city.”

I turned my head back to the crowd to look over the dirty but united people, factory workers, street laborers, all sorts of people, the majority of which the type I saw on the outskirts when I was first arriving in London itself. “Ya turned me into a revolutionary?”

“I was rather upset with Wellbrook, and they were rather poor of having to deal with freed wyverns and tired of the bread and circus act. They’ve propped you up as some sort of symbol I’m afraid.”

I processed that but didn’t follow up on it. Instead asking the main question running through my mind at the moment. “Where’s Beithir?”

“She has been moved to the stadium, her first match is today.” Crawford answered.

I glanced around the city, the building was gigantic, and even in the middle of town, it was not hard to spot poking out from the other buildings. My feet started walking towards it automatically.

“Where are you going Arthur?” Morrigan asked, moving to walk beside me.

“Getting my wyvern back.” I replied. Moving through the crowd as their hands touched my shoulders. I kept walking, ignoring any pains and aches as I started down the streets.

And an army marched behind me.