The creation of a homunculus is no doubt a complicated trick, but it remains something uniquely in my skill set. To only be repeated by another over my dead body.

  And against a Psychic, it is nearly fool proof, because it is not sensible as human. The brain is simplistic with a set of functioning memes, a soul (if that’s what makes us, us) is certainly not present.

  A human may use their eyes and see the danger, but a Psychic is simply won’t, the absolute hubris of their abilities blinding them

  -A Humble Fellow

  ###

  In the 172nd year of the Reconstituted Church—Long May She Reign— one who follows the rails westward along the north coast of Selah will invariably reach Bruchal, Selah’s second largest city.

  It originated as a fishing town on the coast, albeit in an irregular way. Bruchal’s ocean-side does not have docks. The waves that lick at the city, every space that water occupies, are owned by neighboring Ruthenah through international treaty. Bland history with wars fought from 223 to 237 E.A. No, the fish come from massive Lake Seet which helped bloat the town to its population height of just over 300,000 (est.).

  Today, the city’s population sits at 162,000.

  The story starts and ends with Lake Seet. Its beaches stretch to Selah’s southern borders, and its furthest northern point is Selah’s, jutting out over the ocean in a seeming defiance of gravity. A popular picture spot for tourists. To the west you have probably already deduced that Lake Seet is shared with, yes, Ruthenah.

  The dual ownership of the Lake inspired a heightening of industry. Fifty years ago, that competitive economic spirit resulted into a level of overfishing that cascaded into ecological disaster. During that downturn, as Bruchal attempted to shore up its dying enterprise, and population, with casinos and gambling dens. While conservation efforts have been largely successful in saving fishermen’s vocation a generation later, the outside of the city is a still a plait of abandoned and delipidated buildings, and the downtown strip is a buzz of neon lines flashing purple and red through all hours of the night.

  Despite all this back and forth, Selah and Ruthenah have historically been fast friends. There’s just always going to be some chafing when you’re neighbors with someone for a few hundreds of years.

  ###

  “Oh. Ohh? Ohhh,” was the response at a deli in downtown Bruchal.

  Joshua set down the remnants of his third francesinha sandwich and wiped the corners of his mouth, crusty with dried mustard. Kael had just expressed his intent to press onwards towards Dania, no breaks, stops, diversions, and, most importantly, no return home.

  And Joshua so desperately wanted to return home.

  Kael said, “What part don’t you get?”

  That I don’t want to go to Dania and I absolutely don’t want to find the Book of Light. Especially if it can bring back the dead. Bartholomew had been the last name on the list, and Joshua had come close to being done with the whole silly quest. Kael would have been depressed for a spell, in the purely emotional sense, but some genuine mourning for the dead would have done him some good.

  These past few years had been so simple. Let Kael chase fantasies. Tag along to keep him safe and have a good time.

  So what now? Quietly sabotage the mission. Stall. He could break his own leg, that would set them back.

  Instead of voicing any of this, because how could he?, Joshua went for the hot chips, this delicatessen made them fresh. You never started with the chips, but you had to get to them before they lost the heat. They were like warm laundry in your mouth. “What I don’t get, is—” He couldn’t say rush, that would go over poorly. And the consideration gave him time to eat more “—the lack of preparation? We need maps, supplies, research, and money for sure.” Rest too, but I know that the most sensible arguments won’t work.

  Kael puffed air, no sandwich to fill the dead air with. They had ordered all the sandwiches, literally. One got made, and then it got ate. Even with just Joshua and Kael here, the poor sandwich artist couldn’t keep up. And more would arrive: Bartholomew, Gianna, and Emilie. They had been sent off to buy new clothes, the black assassin robes deemed to be un-street savvy. The purchases had required two more stolen credit chits, one for Bartholomew, one for Gianna. Picked easily enough on busses, they’d still have to stay away from public transport in the city, try and hide their faces from the local Counties. It was a lot of heat for a single night.

  Joshua looked up surprised, realizing Kael hadn’t retorted. He hasn’t said no, which means he wants to go home too. Very workable.

  Eyes lolling about the deli, flashes of purple neon bouncing off his face from outside, Joshua couldn’t think of much to say and realized, in a rare bout, that he didn’t want to jabber on. After the absolute slog of the last week, he found himself okay with silence.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Now he just had to come to terms with the death and destruction from this evening. He could approach those thoughts later, in the fetal position.

  “We’re back!” It was actually Bartholomew coming through the doors and the first time Joshua heard the man use an exclamation point. He had dressed himself in brown. Just brown.

  Emilie ran over, clambered up the stool and met the last quarter of Joshua’s sandwich at eye level. With one finger, Joshua pulled his plate away from her slobbering maw.

  Bartholomew sat down next to Kael just as another sandwich was plated. Kael sighed, tore it in two with his hands and handed a half to both Bartholomew and Emilie.

  “Like I’m the bad guy here?” Joshua asked, and slid the remains on his plate over to his brother. “I’m not apologizing.”

  Bartholomew came to the surface for a breath between bites, like a seal breaching for a gasp of air. “How many have you had already?”

  Joshua wedged his chin between his palms. “Why? I said I’m not apologizing. Here’s a question though, isn’t it dangerous to eat a lot after being starved?”

  “I’ve been in this position before, I’ll risk it,” Bartholomew answered between bites.

  He’s been here before? What does that mean? He can’t have literally been thrown in prison and tortured before, right? Joshua gave it more thought. He’s an archeologist, probably starved lost in a jungle or something.

  The food kept coming and only stopped when new patrons stopped by. The first was a drunk from the casino next door. He got his sandwich in a bag, carrying it out in its brown bag like he wasn’t allowed to show the sub in public. The second interruption came just before the third, two men ordered and sat down in the furthest booth. An odd duo: A tall, graying man with a young face and the most expensive looking suit Joshua had ever seen, had to be at least 5,000 Yel. The man’s compatriot was a contrast, all flip flops and open chested tropical shirts. Blond and mirthful. No one should be that happy.

  Joshua must have been getting full if he was starting to peoplewatch, but he couldn’t feel the top of his stomach yet, so that seemed erroneous.

  The third interruption was of course Gianna who had taken her sweet time getting clothes. Joshua was going to inquire about the wait, until he took a good look at her and instead put his energy into not laughing.

  She had new clothes all right, blue jeans and a rich, dark purple sweater. But the thing was: she hadn’t taken off the robes. The lunatic had bought oversized clothes and put them on over her assassin’s garb. New gloves though. Black and sleek, substantially similar in appearance to what she had been wearing.

  Gianna pulled a chair over with one foot and sat down clapping in excitement, “Yay, food.”

  The group paused and stared. The clothes were one thing; it was weird but more or less what they expected from her, but the girlish exclamation was too much.

  “You’re screwing with us, right?” Kael asked.

  She ignored him, pulling over two half eaten sandwiches at the same time.

  “Is this you trying on personalities?” Joshua asked, “Like hats? Is that what you’ve been doing this entire time?”

  “Aww,” Emilie whined, “I didn’t get any new clothes. Can I get a hat, dad?”

  “You have hats at home, dear.” Bartholomew said absent mindedly, watching the strangers at the far table. He then grimaced, realizing what he just said. There’s be no going back home, she probably wouldn’t be seeing her uncle again either. Nothing was safe. He gave a gurgled cough to clear his throat.

  Joshua sat awkwardly, squirming as Emilie teared up.

  Luckily, Kael jumped into the fray: “Speaking of where we’re going, we never finished our conversation, Joshua.” Kael beckoned with his hands, opening the question to the floor. “What the heck are we doing now?”

  “I’m going to Il Porta,” Bartholomew said without missing a beat, placing a hand on Emilie’s shoulder.

  The place you were kidnapped? Why closer to Taerose and Tyré? Closer to danger, further away from suspicion?

  “Joshua and I were thinking—”

  Emilie piqued up, “It’s I and Joshua. . . .” Emilie bit her lip and skewed her face. “Never mind, you’re right.”

  Kael shot her a smile, whatever kept her correcting Joshua’s grammar. “Joshua and I were debating Dania.”

  Gianna stopped eating mayonnaise with her pinky to stop and think. “I vote Il Porta.”

  What is happening? thought Joshua. Am I the only sane one here? Let’s go somewhere safe and sleep for six months.

  Bartholomew cleared his throat, his voice grainy and ragged. “I wasn’t inviting you.”

  “I wasn’t calling for a vote,” Kael added.

  “Hold on,” Joshua said, trying to make eye contact with Gianna. “Why do you need to go to Il Porta?”

  “A guy.”

  Yup, that’s all I’m going to get from her.

  “As long as we’re asking questions,” Kael said, “Why do you need to go to Il Porta, Doctor?”

  “A thing.”

  Joshua sighed and buried his head in his heads. How was it after going through everything they just did—emphasis on just—literal hours ago for the most recent near-death experience—that they were all snipping at each other.

  It was up to Joshua to be both the voice of reason, the adult in the room. A job he always ended up with, and the one he was most ill-suited for.

  “Here’s an idea,” Joshua spoke up, trying to drown the others other. “How about we go in the opposite direction of the murderous Syches?”

  The room froze, crystalline in time.

  Everyone in their party slowly turned. The odd pair of men stared at them with wide eyes.

  Crap.

  The gray-haired man in the suit jolted from his seat with a nervous energy. He made for the door and looked back in a way that Joshua could only call ominous. His offbeat companion slid out of his seat and made to follow but stopped at the door to look back at their group. His face skewed in panged indecision that finally hardened as he stormed off after the gray man.

  A barrage of questions came:

  “What’s wrong with you?” “What happened?” “Can I buy a hat?” “Were you born stupid?”

  ###

  The mishap consolidated their plans, at least for the night. The group slunk out of the glitz and sleeze of the city center to the ghetto. There was decay in every direction from the center, but Joshua led them to the side of the city furthest away from the transportation center. If someone was looking for them in the city, they’d be looking near transit.

  A small hotel room with a single bed, chair, and three foot by three foot bathroom claimed their company for the night. As bad as it might seem, it was better accommodation than any of them had seen in weeks—a fact Bartholomew found ways to turn his nose up at, requiring Emilie to sleep on top of his new coat.

  As far as Kael saw it, not resting in a pool of their own blood was blessing enough, so why haw potential bodily fluids from someone else. He’d never gotten sick staying at a place like this, which statistically should have happened by now if the threat was real.

  Somewhere along the way, their original conversation had become a vote, and it was two for Il Porto. They could be up early and make for the first train in the morning. They would stay together, for at least a few more days.

  And that was that.