They returned to the wagon and saw Helia on her knees in the back, cradling Hector’s head in her arms. Hector wasn’t moving at all.

Unlike Dot who just had some bleeding from her mouth, Hector had bleeding from his mouth and his nose. His face was bruising in places, especially his right eye, and there was direct everywhere. Even though his legs were still in their golden armored form, his jacket stayed open.

“This is my fault..,” Helia remarked, nearly crying. “I can't believe it…”

“He’s fine,” Mallory said.

She looked up at him. “Really?”

“Not as fine as fine can be…” Mallory responded. “But Hector’s a mercenary. Getting beat up is part of the job!”

“Sure…” Stewart said. “Then he must be doing a really good job!”

He drew dirty glares from Helia, but he was still in awe by Hector’s injuries to really pay attention.

“I mean… Helia, your choice in men-”

He wasn’t ready for the hard punch to the face from Helia. He fell flat onto the wagon again, this time cold.

“...you could have stopped that,” Mercy said to Tallow. “Why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to see what she could do!” Tallow said. “You could have stopped it.”

“...I think he deserved it!” Mercy shrugged. “They were fighting words. He should have been prepared to say something so stupid and not defend himself.”

Helia looked at Tallow.

“I apologize for making things hard for you, earlier,” she said. “Please, you were meant to drive the wagon?”

“What are you talking about?” Tallow asked. “Go on.”

“But…”

“Do it,” Tallow said. “He gave you your job. It’s not hard, so do it! He’s not gonna wake up any faster, so might as well take him to safety while he’s sleeping.

Helia wiped her tears and nodded.

“I’ll come up front,” Mallory said, standing. “I’ll-”

“No!” Tallow pushed him back down. “I’ll do it.”

She turned to Mercy. “And give me that sword.”

Mercy grimaced and took the Vindhazi sword off of her hip, handing it by the handle to Tallow.

Tallow grabbed it with her free hand and threw it on her shoulder.

“...It’s called a razorgrip,” Tallow said after some thought.

“...You knew what it was the entire time?” Mercy asked.

“Of course,” Tallow replied. “It’s an old-fashioned weapon that’s only good for one thing. Nobody uses these anymore. It’s more common to just use a simpler weapon that doesn’t weigh you down when you move.”

“How do you know how to use it then, if it’s old-fashioned?” Mercy said.

“‘Cause Sabez is old-fashioned.” Tallow responded. “And remember, he teaches me how to use everything.”

Jon was only able to wonder what things Sabez had taught Tallow in their time together, but he knew that Tallow would want to keep those things secret for a long time. He didn’t understand why, but he didn’t need to. He was sure she would always use the skills whenever it was absolutely necessary to help her friends.

She stepped up next to Helia in the front and sat down, holding the razorgrip over her shoulder.

“You’re not gonna fight, right?” Mallory asked.

“Of course not,” Tallow said. “Let’s go.”

The wagon started moving forward.

“Let ‘em through!” Jack yelled as they approached. “We got what we needed!”

The siblings all moved aside, this time large enough for the entire wagon to pass through.

There was a silent staredown between everyone in the wagon and the siblings who stood aside, watching them.

Mercy was still hiding underneath, this time behind some items as not to be found when the back of the wagon was exposed.

Tallow gave an extended glare to Dot, who blew another kiss.

“You don’t realize how much you remind me of someone I hate,” Tallow said when she was close enough.

Still, the wagon went through without any problems.

“Just keep heading straight…” Mallory said. “The house is further ahead. In the-”

“In the trees, right?” Tallow asked. “That giant mass of forest up ahead?”

“...Yeah,” Mallory admitted. “Guilty as charged. Lana wants up to be as invisible as possible when it comes to the King’s Gaurd running around changing things. Doesn’t hurt to do so.”

“Right…” Tallow said. She then turned around and pointed her sword at Dot.

Wind blew off her and all of her sibling’s hats.

Jack made a small smile while his kids chased after their head accessories.

“I think they’re gonna come back for us,” Mallory said watching them. “After this.”

“They are…” Hector muttered.

Jon looked at him. His eyes were still closed.

“Yeah…” Mallory shook his head with a dark grimace.

It seemed like ages when they were finally at the house. It looked just like the other two houses with some minor differences.

Everyone had stayed silent the entire time. However, it was an antisocial silence. There was a sense of exhaustion among the crew.

Once they stopped, Jon had gotten ready to start picking Hector up/ Mercy went underneath first.

“I got it.” She stood straight up, hosting Hector onto her shoulder.

Oh. Jon often forgot how actually strong she was. Her small stature always betrayed her.

She hopped off the wagon, then went through the front door with Hector in tow.

“Oh… where are we?” Stewart sat up. “Where are we?”

“Resthouse,” Jon told him.

“Oh, right, I guess I could use some rest…”

He looked up at Helia, who was still in the front.

“Hey, Helia,” he said. “You know, while I was knocked out, I think the alcohol left the entirety of my system, and I did some thinking about-”

“Not now, Stewart,” Helia replied.

“I did think!” Stewart said. “I-”

“Stewart, I know you care!” she said. “But not now! Just…”

She dropped down and went inside the hosue,

“But I…” Stewart threw his hands out in the air. “I reflected!”

He turned to Jon. “I reflected! I thought about the consequences of my actions. I’ve looked back on the decisions of-”

“Not the time,” Jon said. Mallory and Tallow had already entered the house as well. It was just he and Stewart.

“Oh, whatever.” Stewart rolled his eyes. “When is it ever the time?”

Jon understood the sentiment.

“...Not your fault,” Jon said.

“Oh, yes it is.” Stewart shook his head. “It was the time at one point. Before all of this mess started.”

He stepped out of the wagon and started to pace around on the grass.

“I don’t know if my sister told you, Jon,” Stewart explained. “But the truth in the matter was that she was the toolsman. The hands-on. The intermediary servant. And me? I am the auteur. The grand architect. The overall designer. Our division back in town, over there? It was a ruse! I got lost on my way to the tools. I suspect the ninja suspected me when noticed my apprehension with the weapons she approached with ease. I convinced her to go back early, and that’s how we found you after the attack. I don’t know if you could tell, but she was able to give me a hard punch.”

Jon thought about Stewart’s and Helia’s actions. They seemed to line up with what he was told.

Stewart stopped pacing and turned to Jon.

“Between her handy know-how and my broader picturesque understanding, we were a super team! We could fix all sorts of problems. But… I think in my grander vision of the big picture, I, in turn, lost the big picture. I saw the vision. But then I became the vision. I lost sight of my sister and where she was in everything.”

He looked down in shame, then began to pace back and forth again.

“Before we set off on this journey to reinvent ourselves. We should have taken the time to seriously hash things out. We should have made sure we would be leaving everything behind us. But instead, we’re just brung all of our problems with us. I guess…”

He shook his head again. “You can take the sheep out of the barn house, but you can’t take the barn house-”

“Stewart!” Stewart turned around and saw his crying sister running to him.

“Oof!” She caught Stewart in the chest and grabbed him. Still, Stewart was able to wrap his hands around her.

“Right… Come on, Sis.”

He turned to Jon.

“Do you want to come in, Jon?” Stewart asked.

“...I’ll take first watch,” Jon said. “It’s okay.”

“Alright, Jon.” Stewart nodded. “Good man.”

“Thank you, Jon,” Helia sobbed.

Both of them went through the front door and it closed behind them.

Jon didn’t know how to hook the wagon to the barn. So, he reached the back of the wagon, pulled out the horse feed, and dragged it to the horses.

He poured it out in front of the horses, then went to the back of the wagon and sat down. He propped his gun on his lap and kept staring out into the forest with his thoughts.

Jon didn’t have to wait long until he saw someone approaching.

Jackets. There were three of them.

Jon had a clear shot at them, but they didn’t seem to be trying to engage, and Jon didn’t like shooting people who weren’t ready to engage.

Still, he had a bit of resentment in his heart about the entire situation, so he had to try extra hard to be patient.

This time, Jon recognized their faces. He didn’t know their names at all, though.

“Someone wants a word with you!” one man said. “If you won’t shoot me in the time it takes to do so.”

Jon nodded.

The man pulled out a green gem and tossed it to Jon, who caught it.

Jon held the gem up, wondering if he would have to activate it again.

Thankfully, he didn’t. A projection appeared from it automatically.

It was the ultimate purple jacket. The purple robe.

Ultimare.

This projection was different than other projections Jon had seen where this was a full-sized image, as if Ultimare himself was standing right next to him. Jon could still see the fizz and transparency of the projection though. His understanding was that this was a super elaborate gem and that the King’s Gaurd seemed to rely on the simplest of such things. Then again, this was matching what he was told of Lana’s practices.

“Did my men make it to you?” Ultimare asked. Even though he was literally standing above Jon, Jon still felt the sense that Ultimare was looking down on him.

“That’s good. These cretins have been holding me and my men back, and…”

He growled in between statements.

“I tried to avoid hiring a stronger mercenary and take care of most of the work myself… even trying to delay the costs by hiring the local help. But alas…”

Even if Jon was sitting down, Jon got the feeling that the man was looking down at him. He couldn’t explain it.

“Ultimare,” Jon said.

The man raised his eyebrow. “Yes. My name is known beyond the realms, then?”

“Sure,” Jon responded.

“Hmph.” The man seemed to flap his robes while he crossed his arms. “And what would your name be, farmer?”

“Jon,” Jon responded.

“Jon… hmm…” the man nodded his head. “I’m sure there are a number of farmers named Jon.”

“Sure,” Jon said.

“What brings you so far from home, Jon?” Ultimare asked, smeingly genuine in his curiosity.. “Farmers aren’t quite numerous around here.”

“Mercenary,” Jon answered. “King’s Guard.”

“Of course,” Ultimare nodded again. “A lifetime of wealth and glory. What farmer wouldn’t abandon his farm to do that.”

“...to help people,” Jon answered.

“Well, anyways, beyond that!” Ultimate made his proclamation.

“You have something that belongs to us.”

Jon waited for Ultimare to continue.

“...We here for the woman,” Ultimate said. “You can keep the man.”

“...No,” Jon said. “She doesn’t belong to you. And no.”

“Could we make any sort of monetary agreements?” Ultimare continued. “Any sort of-”

“No,” Jon said.

“...Alright.” He looked around. “Are you sure this is worth protecting? With your life?”

“Sure,” Jon said.

Ultimate sighed. “Alright. We’re making monetary agreements with the Duechett family…”

“Duckett.” Jon corrected.

“Now.” Ultimate ripped off a piece of paper and handed it off to a hand offscreen. “After our exchange, the Dukett family will let us through, and we will come to claim the women. Unless, of course, you and your amateur group wants to try to defend against us. If that amateur magician is anything to go by.”

“Sure,” Jon responded.

“Well, you won’t get far,” Ultimate said. “Even if you run away now, the Duckett family is already on route to prevent you from getting any closer to the border. They’ll keep you there until we can catch up to you.”

“Okay,” Jon said.

“So you have until tomorrow-”

Jon didn’t see Hector until he had climbed up into the wagon. Hector grabbed the green gem out of Jon’s hand and yelled into it.

“Eat shit!” Hector said, despite the robed man standing next to him. He crushed the gem with his fire, and the projection fizzed out of existence. He then chucked the gem far away into the forest.

“...We could have sold that!” one of the jackets said.

Hector, now with a large bandage taped to his head, glared at the men. He didn’t look any less scary than normal.

“Does it look like I give a shit?” Hector asked.

“...No… if you really want to know…” the man turned around with the two others and walked away.

Hector sighed.