Sam sat on the pebbled road, leaning towards the wall of an old run-down house. He continued fiddling with his lock picks. He liked sitting down in this part of town; it let him notice the dust in the streets and lock eyes with those who were facing just as bad a situation as he was, if not worse. Old whores and disabled men; children begging in torn down rags with a fire big enough to burn the world inside their eyes; all passing through without any reason but that they had nowhere else to belong.

Life’s desolation all felt in a single street. He had grown up around here, and it helped at times to know that he wasn’t the only one suffering. Though what he liked the most about the street was the sky. It was near the edge of the city, and all the buildings were small or broke. It was easier to see the sky here. The sky was filled with light fluffy clouds, and the sun shone brightly despite it being a windy day. Such a sharp contrast between the two really compounded this spot as his favourite.

Though he had no idea why Princess Selicia had chosen to meet here. He felt lucky; he knew every nook and cranny that was worth knowing here. Sam had only met her once, and that was when Zenaris had arrived in this town. He had told Sam all about his family’s death and how he had managed to run from the fire that took his home; and he had also told Sam that he had only known Selicia from a few royal balls and functions. Despite all this, their first meeting had gone well, Zenaris somehow managing to contact her and Selicia somehow managing to come alone to the darkest parts of the city. But they hadn’t met again; they had no reason to.

And all Sam thought of her was that she was a pretty girl. Pretty, but useless. So useless she could be harmful in a way. He might have understood why Zenaris had wanted to meet with her then, but he had no idea why the Zen who showed no emotions wanted to meet her now. And he doubted she knew of his imprisonment.

And he waited, watching Zen standing in front of him. He had been standing with the same expression for the last two hours, boredom probably being a non-existent concept to him. Zen looked sideways, noticing something. And Sam, never one for missing an opportunity, ran like his life depended on it towards the disguised princess.

She was cloaked; everybody was in this day and age, but she was covered completely from head to toe, her hood on, barely revealing anything but her mouth. Sam got to her in a few seconds, then grabbed her arm.

“Trust me,” he said, as he yanked her from her slow pace into the opposite direction. She obliged, running clumsily until he came to a stop. He looked backwards, noticing that Zen was walking slowly instead of running. Sam had guessed his actions well; he knew that Zen wouldn’t expend any energy to catch them because the both of them were bound to come back anyway. Being logical meant being predictable, and it gave Sam enough time to talk. Sam would never have guessed before that losing emotions would only have made Zen into a bigger idiot.

Or maybe Zen just didn’t care enough.

“He’s not normal,” Sam said, watching the princess wipe the sweat from her brow.

“You’re Sam, aren’t you? Wha-”

“Do you know about,” Sam paused, unsure of how to describe everything that had happened.

“Yes. I found out a week ago, and I..” She said, looking downwards. He could tell she felt really bad about it, and he had a feeling she only knew the gist of it.

“I don’t give a fuck about how you feel,” Sam said, watching Zen come closer; he was only a couple dozen paces away now. “He’s not normal. I’m not talking about the dungeons, he’s… just different. Getting locked up must have gotten to him, but this… one of my friends says it’s some sort of magic,” Sam said, waiting for her to laugh.

She sighed. “Like the bloodborn?”

“What?” Sam said, surprised, “Tell me later, and do not do anything stupid without telling me.”

She slapped him hard, and then pointed at Zenaris, who was close now. Sam considered that he might have acted a bit too rudely with a very important person.

Selicia, sweating because she wasn’t used to running, kicked Sam’s knee before straightening up. He bent over, rubbing it, and turned to notice her face a few inches from his.

“If I didn’t recognize you, I would have thought you were going to rape me,” she whispered, making Sam blush, then added, “I would have killed you.”

Sam, skin covered with cold sweat, raised his hand in greeting. Zen nodded, the three of them now standing in a close circle.

“Don’t try to find me again. This is the last time. If you have anything to say, say it quickly,” Said Zen, looking blankly at Selicia. She looked at Sam, only to find him nodding towards Zen.

“It’s better if you go,” said Sam, “there’s nothing you can do with things being like this anyway.”

“You…”

“There’s nothing you can do, and you being here is dangerous for you and us. Give me a way to talk to you, and I’ll tell you as soon as something does happen,” said Sam, adding “I didn’t mean any disrespect, princess.”

Zen glanced at his timepiece impatiently.

“Give a note to the innkeep of the Bloody Flag near the eastern gate, addressed to the purple dragon. And” said Selicia, staring at Zen, “well, nothing.” She shook her head and started walking away. So did Zen, while Sam stood where he was, wondering if he could have handled things better. He had forgotten all about the bloodborn.

He ran to catch up with Zen. They walked in silence again, Sam staring at his feet as they treaded on. He just wanted Zen to stay in the inn until he found a way to cure him.

Sam turned around, feeling something in the air. Zen did too, and they watched as a plume of smoke erupt from where Selicia was. They heard it too; an explosion of some kind, though it sounded nothing like a cannon. Sam ran towards it.

Zen, for the first time this month, hesitated. He ran after Sam anyway.

They found the ruins of a building spilt over the street, two men standing on top. One was a huge, overly muscular man, who was wearing nothing but leather pants and a napkin around his head. The other was thin and short, and looked weaker than either Zen or Sam, though he was the only one smiling widely among the four of them. Selicia lay on the ground, bleeding from her head and covered in dust, her cloak tattered beyond recognition.

“See Davo, I told you they would come!” he laughed. The other man scowled, and then spoke, “You told them my name.”

“It doesn’t matter! Nobody cares about your name!” The man laughed again. “I’m Sebastian. Nice to meet you! Ah, what a lovely coincidence. I can’t believe we met two power users in a single day, and managed to nab the princess!”

A chill went down Sam’s spine. He could see- No, he could feel how strong David was, and that was just by standing at this distance; the rubble only proved his point. They were after Selicia, but they had called the two of them power users, which irritated Sam to no end; he only had the gist of what they were talking about.

“Following the princess really paid off, didn’t it? You young ‘uns there, would you want to join us? Because we would definitely have to kill you otherwise.” Sebastian kept laughing.

“Tell us more, and we might,” said Sam, his voice shaking.

Zen nodded expressionlessly.

“Brave, are you? Well, we’re from the bloodborn.” Zen stiffened, and Sam’s eyes sharpened. “I can tell where powerful people are in a area around me,” said Sebastian, gesturing with his arm, “And David here is… very strong. He punches things,” he added, nodding along.

“You two have the exchange type of power too, I think. I’m special. I don’t give anything for my skill, and I’ve never met anybody like me.”

David reached down and flicked Sebastian’s head with his finger, which made Sebastian stumble backwards. He straightened, still flailing his arms about as he stood still. Sam stayed quiet.

“I’m not coming with you,” said Zen, still wearing the same face he was an hour ago, “and I’m definitely not dying.”

Sam was surprised, to say the least. So were the other two.

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“I promised myself that I wouldn’t let my friends get hurt,” Zen said, his voice strong and serious, “And that I wouldn’t die like this.”

Sam smiled. A tiny bit of hope and optimism in a crazy situation did a lot for him.

“Give us a bit to talk, will you? I’m sure we couldn’t hurt you no matter what we tried. I’m sure he’ll come to his senses and then we can all be on your merry way,” said Sam, inching closer to Zen. Sebastian whistled; David sighed, then nodded.

“Gimme your knives,” Sam whispered, grinning like a madman. The blood was rushing to his head; it wouldn’t be easy to tell who was the one with the mental disability anymore.

Zen stared blankly at him, unsure of what to do. He then reached inside and bought it to the front of his cloak, hidden where Sam could easily take it

“The one in your shoe, too. Get ready to take it out.”

Zen shook his head.

“If you don’t do that, I will fight that bastard with my goddamn fists. You don’t want your friends to get hurt, do you?” Sam said, the grin on his face still there.

Sam closed his eyes. Moments passed without another word or motion. Then he opened them, and everybody felt it.

“Get that crazy one! He’s gettin-” said Sebastian, and a rock flew onto Zen as he raised his arm. It barely grazed him, though the hit was still strong enough to knock him off his feet, his arm taking the brunt of the force.

“Not him, you fool!” shouted Sebastian again.

Sam stood a few feet away from Zen now, holding a dagger downwards. He bought his hands together.

“Essence of clockwork.”

The world shifted to correct itself. In a movement, things were clearer, almost as if there had been something wrong in their midst the whole time.

David threw another piece of rubble towards Sam, but he seemingly glided sideways. His movements were graceful, precise. He slid his foot forwards and swung his arm sideways, his upper body twisting with it. The knife was released at the perfect moment, moving in a straight line without spinning once. David raised his arm to block his face; and the knife did go right into David’s arm, piercing it and spilling blood across the floor.

“Zen,” said Sam, as he bent to pick up a rock. Zen tossed him his other knife, while Sam moved with the same scary control he had used a moment ago and flung the rock towards Sebastian. The debris exploded into a million pieces as it made contact and he fell backwards. Sam caught the knife Zen had thrown before he recovered and extended his arm upwards. He swung vertically downwards, the knife once more flying right into David’s leg. It missed this time as David bent, digging into his thigh instead.

Both David and Sebastian were subdued for now, if not fatally wounded. David moved slowly towards them. The color faded from Sam and he staggered, his smooth precise motions now reduced to drunken swagger; though he still had a lot more fight left in him than anyone could see.

Sam and Zen didn’t waste a moment. Not a word was said as they both bent to pick Selicia up. The way they held her was not the way a hero carried a princess, but it let them run away swiftly and with haste.