There once was a young man who lost his father. 

His name was Ignarathos Laude, son of Alistarius Laude, the king of Daethos. Upon the death of his father, it was declared he would ascend to the throne upon his twentieth birthday. The entire nation mourned for their king, but they celebrated and gave homage to their prince.

Prince Ignarathos’ uncle, the husband of his father’s sister, presented him with a gift to celebrate his ascension: a golden sword fashioned with precious stones. It quickly became his prized possession, and he even seemed to be a better swordsman with the blade in his hand.

As the time grew nearer for his rise to the throne, members of the court began to notice a change in his behavior. He grew short-tempered and angry. His senses were heightened, his actions became bestial, and even his stature had begun to change. Before he knew it, Prince Ingarathos found he was taking the form of a dracleon: a lion with the wings, strength, and ferocity of a dragon.

Unsure of the cause of the curse, Prince Ignarathos was unable to stop or reverse it. He abandoned his royal position and fled the kingdom with his gilded sword. And, as he had no closer relative to take the throne, the kingdom was given to Lord Argonne—his uncle.

The prince hid himself away in the mountains, and he was not seen again until a sorcerer sought out his presence. 

“Prince Ignarathos?”

The prince, now fully dracleon, turned his maned head as long, twisted horns reflected the light from the cave’s opening. “What reason do you have to seek me?” The question escaped the leonine mouth, half as much a growl as it was spoken words.

“My lord, I know the cause of your transformation: it is the golden sword you were given. A curse was cast upon it.”

“A curse? On the sword?” The dracleon roused to his feet.

“Whenever it is unsheathed and used, the one who wields it gains power... as he begins to change into a dracleon.” The sorcerer seemed to curl forward around his own arms. “Lord Argonne ordered me to cast the curse upon the sword. I did not know of his motives until I heard he had replaced you upon your throne. It was then that I knew what he had done, and how I had played a terrible role.”

“What is it that you want,” the beast spoke, “now that you have admitted the deed?”

“All I ask is for forgiveness,” the sorcerer pleaded as he dropped to his knees.

Despite his bestial urges, the prince’s eyes warmed with compassion, and sparked with hope. “I will grant you forgiveness if you can give me something in return.”

“Anything you ask, my lord.”

“Tell me the way to return human.”

The sorcerer bowed his head, pained. “To return human, blood must be shed across your chest, directly over your heart. Then, the red stone upon the hilt of the sword must be placed against the wound. It is then that the curse will be removed, and you will return human. However,” his face twisted further, “because of the strength of the spell, not all of the curse can be removed. A drop of the curse will be left behind, and it is this drop that will slowly plague you until your heart stops entirely.”

Prince Ignarathos was faced with a terrible decision. He had to choose between the long life of a dracleon, or an untimely–and painful–death as a human.

At last, he gave the sorcerer his forgiveness and turned away, remaining a dracleon. He hid the sword so that no others would be touched by the curse, and it is said that he still guards the sword to this day.

But the story of a dracleon and a curse soon faded from history.

A new story arose of a sword so powerful that Prince Ignarathos left the throne in order to keep the power for himself.

The sword would call to all who longed to find it and experience its immeasurable power.

The sword became a legend throughout Daethos: The legend of the Sword of Ignarathos.

--

“Do you really believe all that mess?” The young woman blinked, staring incredulously at the lanky teen beside her.

“Eh, who knows.”

The young man grasped together his hands, half-covered in fingerless gloves. He wore sleeveless black shirt layered over a white undershirt rolled up at his elbows, dusty brown pants, and black boots. The chestnut mop of hair on his head was split on either side of his face thanks to a black headband pressed against his hairline. His green eyes always lit up when he was pretending to court a lady.

Through chirping crickets and the artificial glow of an electric lamp, the couple stood at the edge of a cobblestone path that led to a stone mansion. With an iron fence around a manicured garden and numerous power lines feeding into the roof, the home was clearly the residence of a wealthy family. 

“That whole story sounds entirely too made up to be true.” The young woman shifted her weight on her high-heeled shoes as her thin legs bent at the knees. In her delicately embroidered bodice, golden chains, and short, flowing skirt, she certainly looked like she had come from such a house. “Besides, dracleons are storybook creatures.”

“They very well may be. I know I’ve never seen one.” He grinned and watched her hands rest on her hips. His eyes strayed to a woven moneybag tucked beneath a thin belt around her waist.

The young woman ran her fingers through a mass of red curls as she casually glanced to the mansion on the other side of the wrought iron gate. “Well, I do appreciate you walking me home.”

His attention returned to her face. “But, of course. I couldn’t have my date walk back alone.”

“Would you like to come inside?” She asked, twisting her form in such a way to accentuate her curves.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” he dismissed.

“Why not?” She tilted her head as the red curls bobbed. “My parents are out; the night doesn’t have to end here.”

His body tensed as she suddenly drew closer, and he was quick to scoot out of her fingertips.

Her lips pouted as she took a step back. “Did you not have a good time?” 

The young man apologetically raised his hands and stepped back into place. “Of course I did,” he cooed reassuringly, gently bringing his hands to her hips. “I just wouldn’t want to try to do too much on our first date, you know. We need to save something for next time.”

“Next time?” She straightened up as her blue eyes widened.

“You never know.” The smile had returned to his face in full force.

The woman’s freckled cheeks flushed pink. “Well, I mean,” she began, only to giggle and gently bring her hands to his shoulders. “I just wish there was something I could do to repay you...” 

She spoke softly, almost whispering the words as she leaned closer. Her decorative bodice pressed against the young man’s chest. Her cherry-red lips hovered before his face.

“Sorry, my dear,” he slipped one of his hands up to her chin. “Besides, I’ll have the memory of your smile to take with me.”

Her face shone a bright red as a smile broke across her lips. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

The young man smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She took the smallest of steps back as he released her hips. “See you again soon?”

“If I’m lucky enough.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her a smile. “Have a good night, Leesa.”

“Good night, Ace,” she turned to hide her chin behind her shoulder. “And thanks again.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” Ace turned and waved as he started back into town.

Leesa watched his lithe form pass into the shadow that collected between two street lights and gave a dreamy sigh. A wide grin stretched her lips as her fingers balled together at her chest. She broke into giggles and danced upon her heels for a moment before turning to look back at the street.

His figure hadn’t come out of the shadow.

Giddiness faded into curiosity, and she dropped her hands to her hips. 

Curiosity faded into shock. Her eyes shot down to her belt and found that her moneybag was no longer attached.

Her eyes darted across the dimly lit cobblestone in an attempt to locate it, but it was clear that it hadn’t fallen.

When she rose back to her feet, shock had contorted her face into outrage.

“ACE GALLAGHER!!” She screamed.

-----

Ahh good ol' Ace Gallagher, haha.

This was me toying around with the opening of The Tale of Ace Gallagher; trying to get some foundation for the rest of the story while also making it intriguing enough you may want to keep reading past Chapter 1 😁

I had a thought that the only sorcerer powerful enough to make such a cursed blade would be The Phoenix... but the biggest flaw in that theory is I think the Phoenix would have known how to fully break the curse - which is something Mioko knows without even being that amazing of a sorcerer. 

But thank goodness Ace gets friends to help him break out of this cycle, lol.

Ace’s nose twitched as he entered the smoke-filled room. He blinked to adjust his eyes to the dim, orange lighting that filtered through the haze. It had been quite a few years since he had set foot into the Queen of Diamonds tavern; the room seemed smaller than he remembered it.  

“Hey there, cutie,” a voice cooed nearby.

He cringed. It was still just as sleazy, however.

He purposefully scanned the room, bypassing the stares of many patrons who were blatantly eyeing him. His eyes fell upon the corner booth and squinted to focus. When he found the familiar figure at the table, his lips couldn’t help but pull to a smirk.

He walked directly to the booth—past the smoke, drinks, cards, stares, and legs—and set his guitar case on the ground beside it. 

The wide-brimmed, feathery hat of the booth’s occupant scarcely turned his direction, continuing to block the light from the hanging bulb over the table. 

“Fancy a game of Blackjack?”

The hat tilted at these words, but the eyes were still out of sight.  “Who’s dealing,” came her voice.

“I believe you are.” Ace grinned.

His password was accepted: the brim tilted up and the warm light lit her ebony skin as she flashed a smile. “Gallagher. Boy, has it been a while.” Despite an unassuming purple cloak that covered her shoulders, she still created an air of confidence that poured from her brown eyes and bounced off the black ringlets that fell from her hat. “I’d thought for sure you’d given it all up.”

“I only have one to play this time, Jacqueline.” Ace slipped gently onto the bench across from her. His pale complexion seemed to glow in the harsh light, and with the light in his eyes he quickly remembered why Jacqueline always wore a hat.

Jacqueline’s lips pressed into a pout. “Ah, I see. Must be really important, then, if it’s dragging you out of retirement. You were one of my best; one I could always count on every week.”

The former gambler smiled at the table. “I want to run 447.”

Her eyes widened as her thin brows arched into the hat. “The number of engagement!” She kept her voice low despite her obvious surprise. “I think I understand what’s been keeping you!” She chuckled and rested her chin on the laced gloves that wrapped her hand. “I suppose congratulations are in order?”

“Not just yet,” Ace hid the flushing of his face by giving his cheeks a quick rub. “If I win, it’s all going to buy her a ring.”

“Ooh,” Jacqueline’s smile widened, “you know, they say you get a little more luck when you run for a good cause.”

“I’ll take all the luck I can get,” Ace watched as the number runner turned to a bag at her side and pulled out a small, leather-bound booklet.

She tugged at a ribbon bookmark and opened the booklet flat on the table. Her fingers delicately ran across the lines of ink, written in a code only she would understand. Her lips pulled askew.  “Someone’s already called that one.”

“What? Ugh,” Ace slumped back. “Of course they would.”

Jacqueline’s finger pointed upward. “Now, now—I still have you covered. How about we look up the number for her name, or some other quality about her?” She paused, looking up into her hat. “How about we run the number for a ring?”

Ace’s confidence returned. “Oh—perfect—yes!”

Jacqueline held her hand out flat to quiet him.

“Sorry,” Ace said softer. Number running was an illegal trade in the territories under Daethos’ rule; only those who knew Jacqueline’s business knew how and where to find her, and they were very keen on keeping it that way.

Jacqueline turned back to her bag and slipped out a larger book. The pages were worn from age and use, but both of these contributed to her finding the section of the book for Ace’s new number relatively quickly. “080,” she said succinctly as her finger stopped on the entry in the book, “the number for rings.” She glanced back at the smaller booklet and scanned the lines with her eyes. “No one has chosen it this week.”

“I’ll run it.” Ace pulled a few coins from the pouch at his side and slid them carefully across the table.

Her fingers fell upon his before they released the money. “If you double it, I’ll set the standard bet higher for the rest of the week; make the pot bigger.”

The green-eyed man narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“I am allowed one favor per week,” she explained, retracting her hand. “I’ll give it to you to help your cause.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You would actually change the standard bet for me?”

“Of course.”

“Even if all your regulars walk up right after I leave?”

“I can’t say it any louder.” She tapped her fingertips on the table with a subtle fierceness.

Ace took in a deep breath. He was already giving up more than he had hoped, and now he would have next to nothing left to pay Vance for rent; but everything he put in would come back to him—plus a lot more—if he won. He swallowed and nodded.

“Thank you,” Jacqueline accepted the second set of coins from Ace and hid them away.

“So, where's the number getting pulled from this week?”

“Now, you know I’m not allowed to say.” The dark eyed woman flashed him a look as she penciled Ace’s number into her book.

“Come on,” Ace attempted a hasty smile, “you can’t give me a hint as a welcome-back gift?”

“Is my favor not enough for you?” The look grew even more intense as her eyes narrowed.

“Alright, alright,” Ace sat back. “Thanks, Jacqueline.”

“Anytime.” She folded up her books and returned them to her bag. “It’s good to see you, Gallagher. You know, you can always stop by even if you’re not playing.”

“I was honestly not even sure you’d be here. I remember when you got kicked out at the Mallard after two months.”

“The Mallard… that’s aging yourself right there.” Jacqueline fingered her smile. “They caught on fast.  But the folks here are either extremely oblivious or just don’t care. I’ve been quite fortunate.” She gave her hat the smallest of tips. “Check in the usual place on Monday for the number.”

“Will do. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Ace slipped out of the booth with a final grin, took his guitar case by the handle, and returned to the door. He could feel the familiar spark in his veins; the heat of adrenaline and the rush of confidence. It had been quite a few years since he had felt it, but it felt the same as it always had: warm and inviting…

He inhaled a puff of cigar smoke and choked. He had spent enough time here.

----

Oh man I'm not sure why I like this one so much; I was devastated when I thought I lost it; but I just had it saved in a different spot on my main hard drive all along 🙄 I think it's just a fun interaction between Ace and someone who's known him a while and has enough spunk to make a lasting impression.

I remember the moment I was inspired to write it; I was driving to ladies choir practice and caught the beginning of an NPR show with a woman talking about growing up with her mom being a number runner - basically an illegal form of lottery. I was so intrigued about the concept (like most gambling things. kind of hilarious how completely interested I can be about learning about gambling, but I have zero interest in doing it - perhaps because I have learned so much lol). So when I got back home I looked up the audio to listen to the rest of the show, and I knew I had to include the concept in Fortanya, since folks there are well versed in all the games and ways to bet on things. And it fit in really well as a start to Ace's spiral back into making terrible decisions all for the sake of trying to get enough money to buy Athena a ring. 

BUT... spoiler alert... after losing the joust, he returns to Fortanya to some very good news - and that's how the soon-to-be newlywed Gallaghers get their house ;)

A spattering of applause followed as Ace bowed, set down the guitar, and returned to his table.

Athena was both leaning on her hand and using it to cover her mouth and chin. She took one look at Ace's ear-to-ear grin and added her other hand to her ever-reddening cheeks.

“So?” Ace slid back into the seat breathily.

“I’m not sure I like all this attention,” Athena spoke through her hands and flashed him a coy glance. “But you play–and sing–really well.”

“I had good inspiration.” He admitted as his own cheeks flushed pink.

Athena relocated her hands under her chin. “You are quite the charmer, Ace.” Her expression faded when she noticed Ace’s head droop, struggling against the pain from his ever-worsening curse–despite trying to hide it behind a clenched fist.

When he glanced up, his expression soured for a completely different reason. 

“Well, if it isn’t Ace Gallagher,” the first of two young women stepped up to the table, her body twisting within a short, clingy black dress as she spoke. “I must say I’m surprised.”

“Surprised you’d risk showing your face again after all you did the last time you were in Montrose.” The second added as she casually leaned her hip against the table beside him. Her ruffled skirt had a slit up to her mid-thigh, and she was sure to twist it towards Ace.

The young man grunted to clear his throat, glancing between a somewhat confused Athena and the two women. “Oh yeah?”

The first girl sneered. “You left quite a few casualties in your wake.” She gave a quick glance to Athena, who seemed both confused and concerned. “Sweetheart, allow me to break it to you easy–you're not the first lady he’s ever sung that song to.”

“Or the second,” the other added, rolling her eyes.

Athena’s mouth opened, but Ace was quick to recover the attention. “All right, ladies; if your issue’s with me, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave her out of this.”

“Oh, this concerns her too,” she put up a hand to shield her mouth from Ace. “Watch where he puts his hands,” she hissed a whisper.

“Hey!” Ace spouted, banging both hands onto the table. He caught Athena’s eyes for a moment before the girls again pulled them away.

“Also, when you leave, you’d better make sure you have everything you came in with.” She narrowed her eyes at Ace. “The cozier he gets, the more will end up ‘missing’.”

Ace's fingers clenched. “That's not fair!”

“What you do isn't fair!” She spat.

“Look: I’m sorry–is that what you're looking for??” Ace’s brows were heavily furrowed as his breathing grew increasingly labored.

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t undo what you've done!” The girl mocked, sliding her hip across the side of the table and leaning into his face. “‘Sorry’ means nothing when you’re still stealing from any woman you can charm!”

Ace was pressed as far against the back of his chair as he could be, his face flushed from anger, disappointment, and the confrontation itself. “Is there anything else you’d like to say while you're accosting me?” His voice was a raspy whisper.

The two girls turned to Athena. 

Her expression and stiffened posture remained guarded as she looked back at them.

“I think we’ve made our point.” One said without even a glance over her shoulder. “Come on, Jess.”

The young women sauntered away, returning to their seats at a table with two other women, joining their pairs of eyes to the glares beating down from across the room.

Ace grunted to clear his throat, his body relaxing as the threat settled. “Sheesh,” he raked his fingers through his hair almost nervously. “Now we’ve really got all the attention.”

Athena turned her head away from the stares and looked cautiously upon Ace. “Can we step outside?”

He sighed. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

The young woman stood and started to the door with Ace struggling to keep up. He had scarcely stepped outside when Athena abruptly turned around.

“Was that true?”

Ace straightened up. “What?”

“Was what they said true?”

He wheezed in a deep breath, watching Athena’s once warm eyes turn cold. “Come on,” he said nervously, “don’t tell me you're letting them get to you. You know how–uh–exes can be sometimes–”

“Do you really steal from any woman you can charm?” Athena repeated their words bluntly. 

The gambler could tell bluffing would no longer work. “When you’re desperate and starving on the streets,” his voice softened, “you sometimes do things you're not proud of.”

Athena’s form sunk with disappointment. “So, was I next?” Her words were barely a whisper.

“What–no!” His fist clenched at his chest.

“How can I be sure?”

Ace's jaw went slack. “I'm gonna get this from you, too?”

“I’d like to know if I can trust you.”

“You can,” he answered succinctly.

“Not if I’m the next pawn in your game,” Athena frowned.

“Pawn,” Ace grit his teeth and coughed, “that's absolutely not what you are!”

“Then, look me straight in the eye and tell me you weren’t just going to steal from me,” she took a step closer to him, “that all this singing and charming and rescuing isn’t just some ploy to get something out of me.”

Ace hesitated as realization struck. After years of taking all he could, he had never once thought of stealing from Athena. He had never once thought about how he could use her to his advantage. He had reached into his own money bag to pay for her rescue without a single thought to what could have happened next, and in return, she had been kind to him. That was all he could have asked for.

Athena’s lips pressed tightly as Ace lingered in silent thought. “I think I need to go.”

Ace jolted out of his mind. “Wait!”

“I’m sorry,” Athena backed up. “I really do hope you can get healed from the curse, but I think it’s best if you finish without me.”

“Athena!” He reached for her hand, though she kept it out of reach, “I would never steal from you! You are not a pawn! I–I may have sang that song to other people, but, I swear, this is the first time it's ever felt right–” 

“Then, maybe we can catch up in Fortanya,” she dismissed him and turned away.

“Athena, please!!” He struggled to breathe and retain his composure as the woman walked gracefully away from him. He could not immediately find the strength to run after her; he could not cause his feet to move.

He could only watch as she continued down the road in silent agony.

“Allan!” She called, squinting at the skies in an attempt to find the black bird against the darkening sky. She whistled his call as she continued walking, but she still received no answer. “Where is he…”

She had barely turned the corner when she was met by Mioko as he approached from camp.

“Hey Athena!” Mioko's smile was quick to fade when he noticed her pained expression. “What's up?”

Athena attempted a smile. “I just... I need to head back.”

“Oh, okay,” the Weivan nodded, allowing her to pass. He paused, turning as a heaviness filled his chest. “Back to camp, or back to Fortanya?”

Athena glanced over her shoulder at him. Her face was bent with disappointment, tainted with a hint of sadness. She could not immediately find words to speak; she could only turn and continue on to camp to collect her belongings.

Mioko watched her for a moment before returning his attention to the street. He quickly pointed out a familiar face approaching from across the road.

“Dorian,” he rushed toward him, “did you see Ace?”

The Kalgaran had initially backed up when the Weivan came at him. “No; why?”

“I think something happened,” he turned as his hand pointed behind him. “Athena just came back without him and went back to camp… I think something may have happened between them.”

“All the more reason to stay out of this,” Dorian muttered and attempted to step past him.

“I just want to make sure everything’s okay,” Mioko, instead, stepped into his path. “We need everyone to continue on the mission.”

“Technically, we only need you and Ace,” Dorian tilted his head in an attempt to look around Mioko. “You’re the one who knows the counter-curse Ace needs. The rest of us are just here because…” He trailed off.

“Because Ace owes you potions?” Mioko replied, eyeing him.

“Yeah,” he draped his thumbs on his pants pockets.

Mioko nodded. “Well, I guess we can just go back to camp and wait to see if he comes back soon. I haven’t seen Hylas in a while, either.”

“Didn’t he say he was going to check with the Patrol office here? Also, we told everyone we were leaving for the mountains tomorrow. What’s it matter where they’re up to tonight–”

A rustling in the bushes beside them garnered both of their attention. 

As the shadowed figure stepped into the street light, Dorian quickly unslung his staff and thrust it at the young woman who appeared.

“Wait,” the Amorfian threw up her hands. “I mean no harm.”

“Then, stay there,” Dorian inched the staff further.

“Dorian,” Mioko glanced at him, only to look back at the tall Amorfian before them. “What do you need, miss?”

The Amorfian gave Dorian a weak scowl before turning her silver eyes to Mioko. “I’m sorry for overhearing but… did you say Hylas?”

“I did,” Mioko answered, still looking at her in awe. “He’s traveling with us; though, I haven’t seen him since we set up camp.”

“Oh,” her eyes fell away. The furred collar that draped over her shoulders was soon hidden behind her long black hair as she turned her head. Her deep black dress aided in blending her back into the shadows–save from her pale arms and legs.

“But you can stay with us until he returns.”

“What??” Doran finally broke eye contact with the Amorfian to shoot Mioko an incredulous look. “She’s the one who tried to steal your totem the other night!”

“Her?” Mioko gazed at her, half-dumbfounded and half-taken aback.

She wrinkled her nose at Dorian in disgust. “Oh, like you’ve never made a mistake in your whole life.”

“You accidentally tried to steal from him?”

“No,” she barked at him, only for her voice to soften, “I simply know, now, I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have been so desperate…”

The Weivan could see the guilt in her wandering eyes, and he took a small step forward. “I can imagine it’s difficult to be so far from your home. Did you come here to look for Hylas?”

“And what is he doing so far away from his home?” Dorian added under his breath.

“The same could be asked of you, Kalgaran” her eyes narrowed on him. “I didn’t think any of your kind were allowed to leave after your king was murdered.”

“Hold on,” Mioko stepped between the two when he noticed Dorian’s bristling. “Making jabs at each other isn’t helping anything,” he stood firmly. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re all waiting for people, so you can wait with us until Hylas and the others return. Then we can decide who needs to continue on to break the curse with Ace.”

“Curse?” The Amorfian’s bitter expression lightened.

A scream broke out in the forest nearby, silencing all three.

“...Was that Athena?” Mioko asked worriedly, eyes darting into the distance.

- - -

Disappointed and upset, Athena walked briskly down the streets of Montrose. She clutched the straps for her sword and her bag of belongings–both slung over her right shoulder after her brief stop at camp. The street lights stationed along the way were bright, blocking her ability to see past them. In the spaces between them, however, she continued to scan the skies for Allan.

She again whistled his call, slowing to a stop and holding out her arm. “Come on, Allan!”

A croaking sound swooped past her, and a raven fluttered onto a wooden sign of a building across the street.

“Oh,” she sighed with relief. “You were worrying me!” With another whistle, she held up her forearm higher.

The black bird tilted his head and leapt from the sign. He again swooped past her arm and flew down the cross street instead.

“Hey!” Athena darted after him. The street lights were sparsely placed on the cross road, and she quickly lost him in the shadows. “Allan!” Judging by the flapping of his wings, she rushed down the road until its stone-paved surface gave way to a grassy glen.

She caught a glimpse of him in the moonlight before he slipped into the forest.

“He must think we’re going back to camp,” she grit her teeth and ran after. “No!” She called and gave another whistle. “Come back! Allan!”

She fought through low-hanging branches and pushed through patches of moonlight until she ran straight into Hylas.

“Oh!” She bumped into him as the man held out his hands. “Sorry–I’m–chasing after Allan–did you see him?”

“Shh,” Hylas laid his hand on her shoulder and attempted to calm the young woman as she caught her breath, “deep breaths.”

Athena stepped back. “Sorry.”

The Amorfian’s silver eyes glistened as he eyed the bag on her back. “Are you going somewhere?”

She instinctively touched the straps still on her arm. “Oh, um,” she paused, “yeah, I’m… heading back to Fortanya.”

“Alone? At this time of night?”

“Well, once I find Allan, I’ll probably just go stay at an inn until morning…”

Hylas stepped forward just as she took a step back. “Are you not going to continue with us?” He paused, waiting for an answer that never came. “Is everything all right?”

The young woman frowned, finding concern in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

He scooted closed. “It’s Ace, isn’t it,” he said simply. “He hurt you.”

Athena stopped moving away, pausing. “What–how did you…”

“I could see a connection growing between you,” he glanced aside. “And since he’s not here with you now…”

She sighed. “He disappointed me,” she admitted.

“It’s such a shame. He seems nice, but I’ve heard it from more than a few Patrolmen: he’s a wanted man.”

“Wanted?” Athena turned her head slightly towards him.

“Patrol has been instructed to keep an eye on him. Without real evidence, he has to be caught in the act or in an altercation before he can be captured for thievery,” his eyes slid back to her, “but I’m sure you know he’s a gambler too. It’s only a matter of time before he gets careless–and gets caught.”

A pang of regret pulsed through her. Despite everything she had just heard, thinking of Ace as a criminal didn’t seem right. Would a man with no remorse admit that he had done something wrong? Or perhaps he truly did feel different around her–enough to confess something he may never have confessed before.

“I need to go find him,” she muttered to herself and started to turn.

She jumped as Hylas took her elbow.

“But, you don’t need someone like him,” he held her arm firmly. “A gambler and a thief is no man for such a beautiful woman as yourself... he’ll always care about luck more than you... and luck is such a fragile thing...”

Athena felt her back against a tree.  She was so distracted she didn’t even realize she had moved until Hylas held her arms against it.

“...Almost as fragile as you are...”

“Hylas,” Athena gazed up at him as he held her tighter.

A toothy grin spread across his face.

She tried to wrench her arms out of his grasp to no avail. She gnashed her teeth and tried to kick him, but she was shoved backward into the tree and held firmly against it with his body. Pinned, she threw her head into his chin.

He yelled and recoiled, but only held Athena tighter as tiger-like claws poked into her arms and fangs inched closer to her cheek.

Athena screamed–only for Hylas to clap his clawed hand against her mouth.

“I’d shut up and hold still if I were you.” He sneered.

-----

Eeep. I forgot about this part, lol. But I had part of it rewritten so I finished it out for another short.

I fleshed out the tavern scene since... honestly I'm not sure what prompts Athena to freak out and leave in the first draft, but having two of Ace's "exes" show up and show just how much of a not so nice kind of person he's been really drove that home. I also hate but love how Ace's hesitance is from realizing "oh dang this girl really is different" but that hesitation makes Athena think he can't actually look her in the eye and say it. Oof.

Hylas has been kind of a creep around Athena prior to this, and this makes his true intentions known. Athena walks through the dimly lit forest in the original, but I felt as a single lady (even though she can defend herself) she'd be a lot smarter than that and take the route through town. But geting distracted and led away from passer-bys and street lights made that fit a little better.

Never fear, however, because Ace also heard the scream and runs to the rescue!

After all that gets settled is when the "Giselle" sketch takes place - and Athena learns whole truth about Ace's 'history'. I'm acually filling in gaps, omgosh.