Sal liked to think street scum like him had no boundaries or limitations. Impossible was nothing but a foreign word for his kind. That's what he thought, at least; but it wasn't what he believed. Somewhere, the realist in him kept a list of events that were most certainly 'impossible'.

Amongst the items on that list, the most impossible was, without a doubt, the last one. The one about running away hand in hand with Calnoiva's Crown Prince, all whilst being a qualified Archmage and- to top it off, having both Lord Alistair and Wolf's blessings.

That one was truly the most absurd and 'impossible' of all. Even a mage of Sal's caliber could not cast a spell or brew a potion for that.

And yet, that was exactly what he had done mere months ago. Though the raging war between Elm and Calnoiva would have to take credit for making the impossible possible.

Shortly after the devastating events of the ball for Elm two years ago, the two countries had opened fire on one another. Initially, Elm was only defending. All it took was the complete pillaging and annihilation of one too many villages before Elm became a bloodthirsty beast in its own right.

Lord Alistair immediately foresaw the severity of the situation and took steps accordingly to protect Mathias. Sal's mage training was accelerated and he was given additional combat training with Wolf.

Wolf was as ruthless as Sal had predicted. The Crystal Paladin definitely took the opportunity to exact the tiniest bit of payback for that punch on the jaw all those years ago.

Alistair and Wolf both recognized the danger to Mathias life had he stayed at the castle. It wasn't Elm that was a threat to the Prince's life, it was his own father.

King Artemis had long since made his distaste for Mathias clear, citing on many occasions his great desire for his nephew, a foul-mouthed pig mirroring Artemis, to be the next King. Of course, that wasn't how the Crown worked.

With all the chaos the war had brought, it was no secret the King would manipulate the disorder of the country to dispose of his own son. He'd have played it off as an Elm attack and promptly placed his nephew in Mathias' position, all while pretending to mourn a son whose very face he couldn't stand to look at.

All of this led Sal to where he was now, perched cautiously on the mortar windowsill of their room at the town inn. Not a town in Calnoiva- or even Elm, but further away, in the country of Grinlo.

His mind was racing and he couldn't stop his fingers from drumming on the wall. Sal glanced towards the bed, relieved to find Mathias sound asleep. He knew the Prince would be in bed, he had checked mere moments ago after all. But somehow, looking at Mathias stilled Sal's mind and strengthened his resolve.

Sal reached for the grip of his sword, running his fingers over the intricate design on the guard. The sword was crafted especially to Sal's combat style, by the most skilled blacksmith in Calnoiva- at the request of Lord Alistair. Yet, he didn't know if he could keep Mathias safe, even armed with a weapon so powerful. The fact was killing him.

Mathias had to live. For Calnoiva's sake... for Sal's sake, he had to live.

"You know I can't sleep when you hover around the room like that. Stop being so melodramatic and get over here already, otherwise, I won't get any sleep," Mathias mumbled as he shifted in his sheets.

A small smirk spread across Sal's face.

"What? Is the Prince really such a baby?"

Mathias simply patted the spot next to him. Wordlessly, Sal stripped off his coat and climbed in, the sword still hanging around his waist.

*****/\/\*****

"Couldn't you just transform your pigeon into his alpha form and fly us around the market?" Mathias complained, annoyed at Sal's resistance to using magic.

"Matt, you know magic is not common knowledge. Back home, only the upper class knew of it. For the masses, it was nothing but a rumor. And that was in Calnoiva. We have no idea how they perceive magic here, Grinlo is fairly unknown to us. What do you think will happen if we parade around on such a flamboyant creature?" Sal rambled, intent on driving his point into the idiot's head.

Mathias huffed and crossed his arms.

"Well, if you're such a genius, why don't you cast a spell to make my back hurt less?"

"You have no one to blame but yourself for that, which is why I'm not wasting my manna on your pampered little behind. How many times in a single night do I uncurl you from that horrible position? To be honest, it's a miracle that I get any sleep at all" Sal shot back, shaking his head.

"Oh yeah? If I- wow, she stole your entire pouch just now. How did you not notice that?"

Sal turned to where Mathias was looking, instantly spotting a nimble figure weave through the crowd. A pickpocket. How did he not notice?

He turned to Mathias, giving him an accusing look for the lack of a warning.

Mathias replied with a sheepish grin and immediately sprinted after the crook. Sal followed, close on his heels.

The pickpocket ducked behind the nearby jewelry stand and hoisted itself onto the roof of an adjacent stone building. Irritated, Sal pursued the bandit aggressively as they both hopped from roof to roof. Mathias shadowed from the ground, he found it odd that the people in this town were unfazed by this scene. It made him wonder what these people saw on a daily basis, what could possibly make them so indifferent.

Without warning the thief made a sharp right turn and slid down a tapestry tied from the roof to the fruit stand below. Sal was taken by surprise and unable to keep up. He found an alternate route back down and continued searching for the assailant.

They couldn't venture very far due to the crowd blocking their path. Sal grabbed Mathias' hand and made his way to the front, pulling the Prince along. In the very center was a petite girl with long black hair and dark brown skin, much like the rest of the Grinlo people.

Sal took in her hooded outfit and realized she was the thief they were after. Mathias looked at him, likely coming to the same conclusion.

The girl was on her knees, boldly facing the spiked end of a massive iron club. The wielder of the club was a man so colossal he bordered on 'monster.' There was nothing abnormal about his face, but just looking at it only brought one word to mind- grotesque.

"We've been searching for you, Afia. You see, you are still of use to me," the man said, pressing his club deeper into her chin.

Scarlet drops of blood dripped onto his weapon, to which he frowned in disgust. The man only had to look at his lackeys once before they roughly grabbed Afia by the shoulders, escorting her away.

Who was this beast? From the petrified whispers of the crowd, it was clear that this man was not the official authority, but rather a thug who thought he owned the town.

Occasionally Sal heard the word 'Ogre' thrown around. He couldn't figure out if it was simply an accurate description of the man or if that was actually his name.

A gnawing feeling settled in Sal's gut as he understood what that meant. If a brute such as this ruled the town, then there was most likely no real authority around. Which meant it was time to go.

Sal motioned for Mathias to head back, and two safely returned to their room at the inn. Sal didn't even bother closing the door behind him, once inside he instantly started gathering their things.

"What're you doing?! Sal, we're not leaving, we have to help these people! We have to help Afia!"

"I don't care about these people, and I don't care about that girl. All I care about is you, and my priority is keeping you safe. We are leaving right now, while we still can. I'm not going to argue with you on this Mathias."

Mathias sighed as he ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. He took a minute to compose himself and when he spoke, his voice was hard.

"I know that even if I refuse to leave, you're more than capable of making me. But I'm asking you, pleading you, to reconsider. Sal, I know this bothers you too. I know that the monster back there reminded you of Artemis too."

Sal didn't say anything, so Mathias continued.

"Why are we here? What are we if we don't help even when we know we can?"

This time, Sal replied, "I don't want you getting hurt. I'll say it again; those people are not my priority. You are."

"Wake up Sal! I'm not the fragile thing you knew when we were little. I can handle myself. So, let's go already. First, we'll find where this 'Ogre' took Afia, then we'll sneak in and get all the information we can from her. And then, we take Ogre down. Easy."

A million sarcastic answers flew through Sal's mind, but none of them made it to his mouth. Unfortunately, Mathias was both his strength and weakness. He groaned and grabbed his gear, reluctantly following behind Mathias.

*****/\/\*****

Mathias kept his eyes trained on Sal, watching as he bravely fought Ogre. It embarrassed him a little when he became aware of what he was so absent-mindedly thinking. He was taken by how stunning Sal looked, even when covered in his opponent's blood.

Finding Afia was an easy task. The townspeople were not 'indifferent' as Mathias had previously concluded, they were just afraid. When he was able to get them to talk, they willingly surrendered every bit of information they knew- including Afia's whereabouts.

Afia, on the other hand, was about as agreeable as Sal. The girl was made of fire, no doubt about it. Putting her and Sal in the same room was a miscalculation on Mathias' part. He had to shove Sal out of the room and talk to her separately.

She eventually agreed to help but insisted on picking fights with Sal whenever she could. It was with her help they were able to set up a 'meeting' with Ogre and ambush him. Mathias and Afia took care of the guards outside while Sal handled the monster himself.

Sal's task was difficult, but not because Ogre was a difficult opponent. He was only smelly and brutish, minor inconveniences for Sal. No, the task was difficult because Sal was forced into hiding the use of his magic.

Until he established Grinlo's public view on magic, he couldn't risk exposure. Every country operated differently, he knew that.

Despite the limitations, Sal had managed to break Ogre. He used his knees to hold the beast down by the waist and raised his arms, ready to pierce Ogre's heart.

"Sal. No. We talked about this."

Mathias' firm order halted him midway. He turned to find his Prince standing few feet away, arms crossed defiantly, Grinlo Knights in tow.

Grumbling profanities under his breath, Sal lifted himself off of Ogre and watched as the knights took the thug into custody.

Afia moved beside Sal and mumbled, "you should'a finished him off, pansy."

Mathias came to Sal's defense, more so to avoid another fight than anything.

"Come on Af, Ogre's gone. We should celebrate. Call all the townspeople, we can have a feast with music and dancing- the town hall would be perfect!" he chimed happily, patting Afia on the head.

She grinned, clearly pleased by the idea. Afia then turned to Sal, a mischievous glint in her round black eyes.

"Hey pansy, bet I can down more rum than ya."

"Ha. You're on Magpie."

/\/\/\***/\/\/\

Very sorry for the delay in this part. I was conflicted on how much I should write out for this part. 

I wanted to show the battle sequence between Ogre and Sal as well as describe the setting a little more, develop the Grinlo people and their environment a bit. But that would've made the part too long and I didn't want to split this into two parts because then I would be off schedule. 

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! Any thoughts on Afia?

Does anyone wanna take a guess at why Sal calls her 'magpie'?

Please remember to vote if you liked it guys, it means a lot to me and lets me know if people like it. 

Chp pic: Afia's outfit, except without the sword and ill-fitting (because she lifted it off someone lol)