“He's late.” Alex complained. Still, for whatever reason, she'd agreed to come, crossing her arms impatiently. “He asks us to meet him here, and then he's late. The absolute gall...”

She remembered very clearly how he'd been nearly an hour late for their wedding ceremony before showing up in nothing but a linen shirt and leather breeches. Both stained. Her whole family had snickered at that, all but her father who had laughed and celebrated at the 'free spirited nature' of their prince.

“You didn't have to come.” Sigi replied, growing evermore tired of Alex's attitude. She tolerated her because Astrid seemed to like her – but that was all. They were not what one might call 'friends'. “He asked for help, and I don't see what the problem is. Nothing is better than a five day excuse to be free of all those damned books.”

It was a blessing in disguise, something to ease their boredom. Once per quarter, a work study under an academic advisor would be undertaken toward an applicable discipline and applied as partial credit. Practically every school of magic used mana crystals in some capacity, so this was perfect – two birds with one stone. It wouldn't help her with transmutation, but she was also a student of the arcane school and the magical engineering sub-school – both of which made use of them. Heavy use, being fairly expensive at times.

“I'm getting really tired of your attitude. Since when did you start taking his side?” Alex had a frustrated look in her eye, exasperated that they'd been oh so happy to agree to whatever menial task Tyr was capable of. Magical artifice, and not even the 'useful' study of it. Runesmithing was a joke, not fit for a mage of real talent. Nor a man of his position, talented or not. “You're the last person I'd expect to jump as soon as he snaps his fingers.”

“My attitude?” Sigi's voice remained calm, arching of an eyebrow down at the other woman. Typically not the best sign.

“There are no sides, Alexis.” Astrid interspersed herself between them before a real fight broke out right in the middle of the street. “He hasn't asked us for anything. You're being unfair.”

“I'm being--!?” Alex was cut off by the introduction of their fourth member. “...Prince Iscari?” She was dumbfounded. Well aware that the two men had been two peas in the proverbial pod since their attendance had began. Further dumbfounded at how exactly Tyr had managed to rope an heir primus into this manual labor. A prince and primus both should not be mining, not when they could easily send other people to do it for them. It was embarrassing, and a waste of time. Mana crystals were not expensive enough to justify a trip that could take several days.

“Hello.” He waved at them, a lifting at the corners of his lips. Astrid and Alex alike blushed at him, blooming girls who were so used to Tyr's dead eyed look and constant glaring. Compared to Iscari – he was almost... Ugly. “Nice to see you all again.”

Sigi, on her part, remained unimpressed. Too much of a pretty boy, and too skinny. He was still a primus though, which was worth respect. They all curtsied and collected themselves, not quite sure how to act.

Iscari was dressed for the road, looking enthusiastic about their 'adventure', with his long hair pinned back. Outfitted for traveling, but very well dressed. Everything about him was neat and manicured, from his cuffs to his buckles, to his leather boots that shined like a well polished blade. As opposed to...

“Ah!” Astrid clapped eagerly. “He's here!”

“...”

“...”

“...Tyr?” Iscari was the first to address him directly, raising an eyebrow at how ridiculous he looked. Tyr had never been what one might consider 'well dressed', but he looked like he hadn't spent even the briefest moment putting himself together. His shirt and pants were black, with worn boots of a light brown to match his shabby sword belt. Carrying a canvas bundle larger than himself. As one might expect from the size of the thing, he was laboring under the weight.

“Sorry I'm late.” He replied, nodding to Iscari. “I needed to make some preparations. Eight picks, ten days of food for the five of us, and some other things. Rope, lanterns, and--”

“Are you an idiot?” Alex asked. Iscari turned toward her, brows in consideration of how she was speaking to not only his friend, but her own husband. He hoped that his wives wouldn't act like this once they had organically grown apart. Tyr beat him to it.

“...Why?” Tyr asked, his hair all about his face and lathered in sweat. He looked like a common rogue or squire, no wonder nobody recognized him. If they thought they did, they must've asserted to themselves that no future primus would dress and act this way. Then again, Jartor was quite particular about keeping Tyr under wraps for some reason. The prince wasn't in any of the family paintings, had no statues or busts...

“You're carrying around that ridiculous pack while you have a perfectly good dimensional ring on your neck!”

“Oh...” That was true. Tyr was still getting used to magic artifacts being so common here. He'd always had a few dimensional artifacts, but he didn't like jewelry. If worn when he punched a man, it could break his fingers, so he hadn't used it for more than storing extra food from the inns he visited for late night snacks. He had no idea what he'd done with the minor ring he'd owned since he was a child, the ring designed to carry water. Wait... Maybe he could fill it with cold beer so that he'd never run out?

They had to be worn the way they were intended to be used. It was currently dangling on a sterling chain, requiring the giggling Astrid to loosen it from his neck before putting it on his finger, allowing the pack to disappear inside with a thought. Wondrous thing, magic...

“Reminds me of our wedding.” Astrid chuckled again, still holding his hand and spinning the ring with her fingers. None of them wore any wedding ring, it was a commoners tradition to wear them full time. Knights would wear them when on the road for obvious reasons, but typically being of a family with heraldry said enough.

“If I recall...” Tyr gently removed his hand from her own, awkwardly patting her head. “You put on both rings, screamed 'Fine, I'll do it', and ran off. I didn't see you for months after.”

“Ah... Well...” She blushed, looking slightly mischievous at present for no conceivable reason. People often said Tyr was strange, but his wives...

He opted to wear his sword on his back in the travelers position, as he would every day, only taking it off when he was in class – but never letting it out of reach. In a place like this, it was very odd – and he was pretty sure it was illegal. Most of the adventurers he'd seen put theirs away or carried blades around with a ribbon securing the guard. Nobody had stopped him yet, though, so he continued to do it.

Their rendezvous took place in the village east of the academy. Before the ring of mana towers demarcating the outer border of Amistad began. After that it was a stretch of 'free land', a demilitarized zone that people were free to live in, if they wanted to, but no nation could claim.

It was slow going at first. They'd procured horses, but Tyr had no familiarity with the landscape and was in no real hurry in the first place. It was nice to feel the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, having forgotten how pleasant it was away from all the noise.

For the first time in weeks, his ears were unburdened by inane babble other than what came from his companions, riding ahead with Okami beside him, like always, similarly happy to get a chance to stretch his legs. The wolf was full of energy, prancing about and burying his head in one warren or another, terrifying the creatures within half to death and making that snuffling sound that served as laughter. Tyr wondered what it would be like if it was just them... No objectives, no plans at all, just the open road and nobody to stop them. One day. One day they would do that. He swore it.

Sometimes the wolf would run off, but he'd always come back sooner or later. Frightening the others until they realized who it was.

“We should stop.” Tyr said. The lands beyond the towers were almost universally thick, deciduous forest. Hours had passed and he hadn't seen a single soul besides a lone mage streaking through the air on transmutated wings. His grumbling stomach was reason enough, even if it was a fairly early hour. Better to set ones camp sooner rather than wait for the sun to set in an area he knew nothing about. Fennic had said that. Signed that, rather. When in unfamiliar territory, you staked out your sleeping place and took a look around, to be safe. Otherwise you might end up camping on top of a monsters nest.

Okami dragged a boar from the forest, limp in his massive jaws. His chops were covered in blood, a successful hunt. Even in his 'puppy form', he was a black hole from whence nothing returned, by that a bottle of shampoo or a moose carcass.

“Strike camp.” Tyr waved his hand lazily at them, swinging his legs free from the saddle and approaching the boar. Still warm and fresh, with blood leaking from the perforations on its neck. Dragging it to a nearby tree, he struggled under the weight of hanging it until Okami gave a hand, or a snout in this case. Better to elevate it quick so as to prevent the blood from clotting and ruining the meat.

Iscari, Alex, Sigi, and Astrid all stared at him in confusion. “You set up camp.” Alex protested. “Unlike you, we're civilized. Do I look like a vagabond to you?”

“You've never set a camp?” Tyr was surprised at that. She was, after all, a college mage – they traveled around for most of their careers. Surely she'd have done so in the past?

Tyr's ears rung with her mocking laughter. “You think I'd dirty my hands with menial tasks? Of course our adepts do it for us, or the rangers, or we travel to an inn. Don't think me one of your common ruffians that you can order around.”

“Alright.” Tyr shrugged. Sigi gave her a dirty look and joined him on the ground, alongside a very perplexed Iscari. He was a pampered prince, whereas Tyr had nearly a year of experience on the road. It wasn't exactly hard, throwing the parcel of three tarps on the ground that unfolded by themselves to become tents. “Who's an idiot now, you wretched woman? At least I know that we need tents to sleep in.”

“Shut up.”

Next was the campfire, a similar contraption of steel with a cooking pot and several rotating spits mounted to a single compact frame. All rune-forged items that he'd purchased from the academy store with some of the points he'd accrued over time. It hadn't been enough, but thankfully they accepted gold too, albeit at an exorbitant exchange rate well over the value of the item.

The others sat around the fire, ridding their hands of the early autumn chill.

Tyr pulled his sword free of its scabbard, chopping the head clean from the boar in a single swing, awed at the sharpness of the blade. It fell to the ground with a dull thump, Okami dragging it away to 'play' with it.

From the rear, a gagging noise came from one of the women. Sigi seemed unbothered in the slightest, Alex was stony faced albeit a bit pale trying to hold her composure at the grisly sight, and Astrid was tuning a long necked lute and humming to herself.

Not the girls, then.

“...Iscari?” The man was green in the face, eyes tightly shut and fingers plugging his ears. He'd never seen an animal butchered before, amazed at how much blood had come out. Slapping wetly against the dirt in a crimson waterfall. Tyr frowned, shaking his head and returning to the task. A necessary skill that Fennic had patiently taught him during their travels. On a creature as large as this, it was easy, working his knife into the folds of connective tissue.

He peeled the hide from its back and flanks with a squelch, chuckling as Iscari made another gagging noise. Opting instead to walk some distance away. Ten minutes later, and Tyr had cut free the two haunches of the creature before chopping the dense meat into more manageable cubes. Leaving them to sit on a platter. Perhaps he was dull, but not one incapable of learning, tossing the rest of the boar into his dimensional ring.

“Here, let me.” Sigi plucked the bag of various herbs and vegetables from his hands and began dicing them with furious speed, using wind magic to make quick work of them and dropping them in the pot. They began to crack and sizzle immediately, releasing their juices and caramelizing. His plan had been for a stew of onions, potatoes, and a herb or two – but she'd gone all out, pulling tomatoes from her own ring and adding them to the pot.

“You can't get good tomatoes so far south.” She said, despite nobody having asked. “I find those native to the region a bit too sweet. Best if they're allowed to dry in the sun a bit, losing some of their water, but this will do just fine.”

“You can cook?” Tyr asked, receiving an odd look and a nod in return.

“I might not know my way around the road, but I know my way around a cooking fire. Trafalgar always had the best food, you know? Much better than the slop you feed yourself on the eastern continent. Fish with crispy skin and fried potatoes, stuffed crab and pickled sea-plums...” She had a far off look in her eyes. Even Tyr could tell that she missed her homeland, but he had no words of comfort for her. He didn't know what to say, patting her on the shoulder and assisting her in browning the meat before it was to be added to the pot. Changing the subject was probably better, he didn't really know how to react in a situation like this. Made more awkward by the fact that she hadn't slapped his hand away and seemed content to sit there with him as they worked.

“This is... Nice.” Tyr coughed. “I'm glad I got to learn something about you.”

“Just shut up.” Sigi growled, but her eyes had softened and she wasn't looking so sad anymore. “You'll ruin the moment if you keep flapping your gums.”

He snorted, no use in arguing with her. Following her through the process of rendering some fat and adding it to the stew before the meat was thrown in. Usually Tyr would just chuck everything in there and let it cook, but Sigi had a very particular opinion on how these things should be done, so he followed her lead. Using it as an opportunity to test his magic.

His time in the academy hadn't been a complete flop. Tyr's control had become more refined compared to before. With his senses, he could see all of the temperatures swirling around the pot, helping cook a meal that would take hours in only two minutes by carefully modulating the heat inside of the meat to what he considered the perfect doneness. It was a hearty affair, and they enjoyed it. Even Iscari who had recovered from his squeamish stomach to laugh and sing alongside Astrid as she played her lute. It was odd, he'd always wondered what they'd done with all that free time and this appears to be it. Their little quirks and hobbies. The microcosm of human existence and how impossibly diverse people could be, allowing him to properly observe how the world did not revolve around him. It's not that he didn't know that already, obviously, but Tyr felt it must be hard for anyone to look at all the complexities around them.

Tyr had never asked, never shown much interest in their everyday lives. Maybe that was why they didn't like him.

“You're good at this!” Iscari clapped. “Do you fancy yourself a bard?”

“Of course not.” She giggled, blushing. Tyr didn't bother getting jealous again, just looking away and ignoring them. If that was what she wanted, he'd make it happen. He'd grow no horns as long as he lived, but he was hard headed in this way. Annulment was probably for the best and he'd been thinking about it for some time.

He didn't understand women, having no experience with them beyond acquaintance. Didn't understand that Astrid was still very much a girl who had been even more sheltered than he was. Chalking it up to that, he allowed Okami to finish his bowl, running his hand through his soft fur. Feeling the thunderous vitality of the wolfs heart, wondering how long his own would continue thumping away like that. If he'd ever be able to find it at all. Since that day, he couldn't feel it beating anymore. It was still, and so was the rest of him. He was changing. For good or ill, everything became more different with each passing day.

It didn't take long for the road weary group with bellies full of good food to fall into a heavy rest, each taking an individual tent for themselves. Not having the presence of mind to realize that Tyr had set three for a reason. One for he and Iscari. One for the women, and one for Okami if he wanted it.

Guess it's the grass tonight. It's not so bad. There was a light in the open air and the woods. All of its wonders and fragrances, the shrill noise of chirping insects beneath a crystal clear sky. A warmth his weary soul craved. And all those stars stretching out above them to dapple the midnight canvas. The twin moons above, one silver and the other varying based on the season. Tonight it was sapphire blue, significantly smaller than its twin.

“I've never traveled before, not like this.” Iscari mused, laying his back against Okami's flank with the latter slobbering all over his face affectionately. The wolf liked the prince of Varia, and if for nothing else that was enough for Tyr to trust him. Beasts had far keener instincts when it came to people than humans did, though Okami seemed to like Tyr as well, despite being questionably deserving of it. Everything and everyone liked Iscari, they had to. Tyr wasn't so sure why the wolf had always been so unconditional with himself, partners or not. “It was fun.”

“Still got a long way to go.” Tyr replied, breathing deeply of the woody air. He could taste the loam, the moisture in the earth, gnarled bark and decay. Life, so much life all crammed into one place, everything was in such clear focus unfettered by human civilization. Tree-frogs croaking off in the distance, the shuffling of branches as nocturnal animals came out to hunt and breed and live the way they were supposed to. There was a song to it, perhaps the worlds greatest orchestra. He could almost feel it in full clarity... Almost. “Lot's more fun.”

“In truth.” Iscari sighed. “Not including my short trip to the city by gate, I haven't left the palace in over a decade. I have not seen the city I'll be expected to rule from one day. Isn't that peculiar?”

“Yes.” Tyr exhaled in good humor. “Yes it is.” He'd been sheltered a bit too, bonds loosening when he reached the age of fourteen and only be circumstance. He had felt a similar way, again, the first time the city was far on the horizon behind him. There was so much out there and he hadn't seen even the tiniest splinter of it. Might never, caught between wondering if he should just let go or continue clawing his way forward through all obstacles present on the path. Tyr wanted to sleep, forever, at times – and sometimes he felt ready to go mad with a manic need to continue to be.

I wonder what Micah and Rorik are up to? Even Varinn, or the kids. He missed them all, wishing for that quiet life and the freedom it offered. As quiet or as loud as he wanted to make it, a level of agency and control he did not possess now. Wouldn't possess if he continued toward the purpose he'd been born for, and maybe he was lonely. It was hard to tell. Less lonely though, now that Iscari was around. He felt a wall between himself and the girls that he didn't know how to scale, one he'd built himself. Bricks cast from neglect and his flaws, unable to stop projecting his insecurities. He didn't feel that wall with the other man, he was open and unbound by any of the knots that Tyr felt full of.

“Tyr Faeron.” Iscari whispered. His voice incredibly soft, near inaudible. “What kind of man are you?”

“What do you mean?” Tyr turned to face him with a tilted head, pondering the odd question.

“I find myself wondering why you carry such a weight in your eyes. Why you always glare, why your hands shake, why you do all of the things that you do. I wonder what kind of man looks at the world the way you do. Are you a good man?”

“I don't think there are any good men, or anything approaching the inverse.” Tyr wondered aloud. “Only men. Molded and shaped by the decisions and path that they've taken. Whether their lives have meaning or they deserve to live it is another story. It is not for us to judge, we see and act because we are as equally as flawed as anyone else. Only gods can do that, and I'm certainly no divine. There are no villains, no heroes, just... People.”

Half understood words, ripped from the mouth of Varinn who'd responded to a similar question from his student. Asking his teacher if he was an evil man, for all of the things he had done.

“You truly think there are no bad men?” Iscari asked, his voice sounded amused at the thought that his friend could have such an outlook. He couldn't tell if it was apathy, or a greater consideration for the agency of man. It was easy to stereotype, and Tyr bordered misanthropy even at the best of times, hearing those words from his lips was new.

“No.” Tyr shook his head. “I don't. I think most every man in history had told himself that he is the good guy. That what they did was the right way. Whatever madness compels man to those selfish assertions, they do not possess the capacity for evil. Nor good in the truest sense. Humans are creatures of insatiable appetite and everything they do is for some benefit. Tangible or not, there's always something in it for them. And that isn't bad, it just is. They can do good or bad things, but perception is not reality. Laws change and perspectives drift over time. Adapt and evolve, history is painted over how the writer of it sees fit. Men are not so simple that they can be pigeonholed into some kind of singular alignment. There is no absolving sin or excusing it, people are simply the path they take and that is enough for me”

“You've become profound and wise in the presence of the open world, my friend.” Iscari laughed, amused by the words, wholly unexpected. Tyr had changed as soon as they'd left the academy, as if he'd turned full keel into a near completely different personality. So laid back, more talkative, less on edge.

“Stolen wisdom.” Tyr replied. “But to answer your question about myself – I don't know. Perhaps because I lack the self awareness, or perhaps because I fear the answer. The lens that I have shared with you is as much a coping mechanism as true wisdom. Others can see me, and make their own decisions.”

“I think you're a good man. Just a little lost.” Iscari smiled at him. He was so incredibly handsome, statuesque and otherworldly under the cold light of the moon. Tyr wasn't attracted to men, or at least he never thought so. Not romantically, but there was an incredible warmth inside Iscari that he so badly wanted for himself. He wondered if that's what friendship was, or if he was simply taken by the gods given gravity given to the primus'.

“You don't know me.” Tyr sighed. “I am glad that we are friends, but I hope you never do know me for what I am. I hope nobody ever does. Even if I stand to gain benefit from it. In some ways I know myself, but the more I know, the less clear it becomes. Sometimes I feel watched, eyes in my window and I hate it.”

The things he'd done and seen, fueled by hormonal emotion or the rage that still roiled down in his deepest parts. They had to change a man. Put the steel in them. A steel Tyr had always wanted to find in himself to match the heroes he'd deified in his mind. He'd done it, found as much as any man could expect. And it had left him jagged.

Iscari was good. Bright and cheery. Conceited and arrogant at times but in an innocent way, because this was his truth. Well educated, well mannered, and quick witted. Soft in places Tyr couldn't relate to. Tyr could see it in his eyes, and could feel it in his voice when Iscari had panicked at the idea of killing his friend. No steel in him. Just light. And he wasn't any weaker for it.

“I love you, brother.” Iscari whispered. “No matter where your path takes you, it'll always be us. Forever. I will never turn my back on you.”

Warmth. Some kind of faith, unequivocal and unconditional. He didn't know why, but his eyes were wet and his fists clenched. Iscari was already asleep, leaning against the gentle rise and fall of Okami's ribs. Divine, beautiful, untainted by the struggle. Unburdened and stainless.

Tyr would prefer to keep his friend that way. For as long as humanly possible, even if he had to wade through a sea of ash and razors. Even if it was his only purpose, he knew that he would protect the light inside this man until all the lights in the sky blinked from existence. He didn't know love, couldn't know it, all of the nuance of such a complex concept was beyond him.

But if he knew anything, it was that.