[color=lightgray][h1][center][color=9354FF]Ryn[/color] & [color=ab274f]Prince Wulfric[/color] - Part V[/center][/h1]
[center][b][u][color=red]FLASHBACK:[/color][/u][/b] Sola, 27th[/center]
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They ran down the alley, boots sounding like scattered drum beats. Behind them, the door shuddered and groaned, but the makeshift barricade held—at least long enough for a head start.

By the time the thugs figured out the front exit might be a faster way to catch them, they were already a good few meters ahead of them. However, the Slop Shack was built on the shoreline by the piers, so until they progressed deeper into the slums, there weren’t that many options for where they could run. The four ruffians still had them in their sights, so they would have to get a bit creative. 

Wulfric picked up the first piece of sizable debris that came under his hands – a discarded plank. He threw it at their first pursuer; the thug leader with his muscular frame and longer stride was the fastest. The burly man seized the plank mid-air, and ripped the rotting wood apart with a shout. [color=ab274f]“Someone’s angry,”[/color] the prince noted idly even as he jogged onwards, gaze flicking here and there for more environmental aids and opportunities.

[color=9354FF]“I can’t imagine why,”[/color] came Hendrix’s voice from distinctly not where he’d been three steps ago. [color=9354FF]“All we did was taunt them, embarrass them in front of the entire establishment, barricade them behind a door, and now we’re throwing whatever we can at their heads.”[/color] Tracing the playful voice upward, Wulfric found the count practically skipping along the wall’s coping like it was a garden path.

[color=ab274f]“It’s their own fault for being so inept,”[/color] Wulfric commented. [color=ab274f]“Let me know if you see anything useful from up there,”[/color] he said even as he kicked an empty barrel, sending it rolling under their pursuers’ feet. He weaved in and out of alleys while Hendrix pranced above on the walls and rooftops. [color=white]“You fuckers!”[/color] the pugilist roared, and returning like with like, threw an empty bottle towards Wulfric. The knifeless man was trying to pelt the count with stones. None of the projectiles reached, but they did cause an awful racket. Thankfully, the docks were practically abandoned at this time of night, though the prince did spot a few curious souls take a peek through the window only to dismiss the activity as none of their business. There was a stray drunkard who tottered along the edges of the street, but he still had enough wits about him to stagger out of the way of the group of men charging through like a crash of rhinos.

In the distance, he heard a party of cavorting folks. To avoid them, Wulfric gave the area a wide berth. However, his path took him to an unfamiliar yet densely packed area. Wooden shacks were littered around. Navigating by the stars was possible, but the scant light did little in the way of illuminating the path. 

Across the open shores, the salt-laden breeze danced freely. It was trapped by the confines of the alleyways, succumbing to stagnation. Garbage infested the streets, along with the stench of piss and shit, rat corpses clogging the gutters. The susurration of sand under his boots gradually shifted to the soft squelching of mud. He slowed down to scope out the surroundings when he was reminded he did not have to do so all on his own.

A different city existed on the rooftops. In the spaces between—where buildings almost touched but did not quite—Ryn spotted routes the earthbound would never see. [color=9354FF]“Take the next left!”[/color] he called down to the prince who was doing a remarkable job of not getting caught so far. 

Wulfric did not hesitate to take the turn, and was not led astray.

Night wind rushed around him as Ryn leapt between buildings. His boots barely touched the neighboring roof before he was moving again, muscles coiling and releasing. All the while, he kept watch over Prince Wulfric’s progress through the maze.

[color=9354FF]“Right at the crooked lamp post,”[/color] Ryn directed, rolling smoothly across a slanted roof. [color=9354FF]“Mind the—”[/color] He winced as the prince discovered the pile of fish guts. [color=9354FF]“Never mind.”[/color]

Wulfric grimaced as he waded through a knee-high heap of discarded viscera. The scent reminded him of that unfortunate fish stew, and his stomach shuddered at the memory, bile rising to the back of his throat. However, he ran on, waving a dismissive hand towards Fritz. [color=ab274f]“I’ll live,”[/color] he gritted out. [color=ab274f]“No need for extraneous data,”[/color] he reassured. He was confident he didn’t need to concern himself over the count who was multitasking marvellously, yet he was just as sure it would be simpler for Hendrix if he didn’t have to parse the kinds of details the royal could do without. [color=ab274f]“Focus on what’s important.”[/color] 

That, Ryn could do.

A crumbling stone wall stretched up ahead, a remnant of an old building torn town. It served as a partial barrier between two tiny neighbourhoods within the docks, and provided a semblance of privacy to the residents on each side. Eyeing the obstacle, Wulfric took a page out of the count’s book of tricks, and went on to scale it. At the edge of the wall, convenient pieces of debris were scattered on the road, precariously balanced. Scanning them in the scant seconds as he sped closer, he judged which ones to use as a springboard. In a hop, a skip, and a jump, he reached its highest point with his palms, and vaulted up onto it in one fluid motion. It wasn’t to show off - well, maybe just a little, the whistle and applause from Hendrix did tickle his ego - but to get an overview of the situation and plan their next steps together with the count.

[color=ab274f]“They are not [i]that[/i] far away,”[/color] he said of the thugs, who were lagging only a few streets behind. Looking this way and that, he imprinted as much of this unknown part of the cityscape into his mind map as possible. Given he had only a few steps left before he ran out of the rampart, that wasn’t much. But it was enough to give him an idea. Off in the distance, two neat rows of lights stretched along a lengthy road. The Peasant Lane. [color=ab274f]“There are more patrols there,”[/color] he murmured. [color=ab274f]“If we cannot shake them off otherwise, let us arrange a handover, and have someone else deal with these idiots, shall we?”[/color] The end of the wall was right in front of him. 

[color=ab274f]“I am entrusting the route planning to you.”[/color] His gaze lingered on Fritz for a beat longer. Yes, he did in fact trust him enough to rely on him. There were certainly ways he could rationalize the whys, but in that moment, it was the pure conviction that the man wouldn’t let him down. In the next breath, he jumped off of the wall. Landing in a crouch, he broke his fall with a roll. Now back to street level, he dashed onwards as soon as he picked himself up, running pace unbroken.

The irony was not lost on the count—the heir apparent of Caesonia, the great-grandson of Julian and Ida Danrose, [i]trusted Ryn to guide him[/i]. Ryn’s laugh came out as a breath, sharp and fleeting. [color=Dimgray][i]Trust. What a fragile thing.[/i][/color]

Momentum carried him sideways, boots scraping against soot-stained brick. A leap, a pivot off a dangling shop sign—The Rusty Anchor—then a drop onto an awning. The canvas groaned but held, slingshotting him forward into a balcony.

They were a mismatched arrowhead in the district—Ryn above, Wulfric below—cutting between row houses and heaps of refuse that even rats avoided.

A flicker of torchlight caught his attention. There, at the intersection—a familiar silhouette multiplied. Metal glinted beneath dark cloaks.

Ryn’s gaze darted between the water’s edge and the thugs still in pursuit. [color=9354FF]“Keep going, I’ll be back,”[/color] he called, already changing course across the rooftops, leaving the prince to wonder at his sudden departure.

[color=ab274f][i]Well then.[/i][/color]

It was time to lure the pursuers elsewhere, and Wulfric knew exactly where he would lead them to. He slowed down a tad, weaving between buildings until the gangsters noticed only one of their targets remained in sight.

[color=white]“Ha-ah!”[/color] the leader laughed even as he puffed. [color=white]“Friend ditched you?”[/color]

[color=ab274f]“I told you…”[/color] Wulfric raised his voice just so, [color=ab274f]“I am enough to take you all on!”[/color] Running between the final line of buildings, he emerged onto the docks. It was a clear area with few obstacles and even fewer places to hide. That had both its advantages and disadvantages, but for now, it’d work. He edged his way towards the piers, scoping out the field where they would face off.

[color=white]“Why not jus’ do tha’ in t’ firs’ place, huhh?!”[/color] That was the bruiser who was the second closest on his tail. While the other men, shaggy-hair and pony-tail lagged behind, these two were already encircling him, eyeing him cautiously as they took the chance to regain their breath. [color=white]“Plannin’ sumthin’, huh?”[/color]

Wulfric smirked with all the arrogance befitting a prince. He adopted a condescending attitude, full of swagger as a means of provoking them into irrationality. [color=ab274f]“Why, are you [i]afraid[/i] to fight two-on-one? [i]Cowards,[/i]”[/color] he mocked. 

The taunt had the predicted effect, and the two teamed up against him. The burly leader ran at him with a shout, aiming to put him into a grappling hold. Meanwhile, the bruiser was positioning to the side to hem him in. So, the two were used to working together. The fatigue from the chase and the anger both worked against them, their movements less precise as a result. Of course, Wulfric was not unaffected from all the running either, but he had had about half a minute longer to rest than them. It would have to do. He fell into a crouch, spreading out his arms as if readying to meet the leader head on. At the last moment, he grabbed one burly arm, shifted sideways, and with a counter-grab over the man’s neck, swept his legs underneath him, throwing him over his hip. 

Of course, the bruiser wasn’t merely standing there twiddling his thumbs. He came at Wulfric with a series of hits, a fierce sequence of hands, feet, elbows, and knees. An open area worked well for his opponent, and the prince was left mostly blocking and evading. If he had a blade, the fight would be finished by now. 

[color=ab274f][i]If I had a blade, it would be finished - bloodily.[/i][/color]

Shaggy-haired and pony-tail finally caught up, joining in. Largely, they were harassing the prince and limiting his movement options. Not only was that extremely annoying, in a prolonged fight, it would have likely cost him the victory. He edged to the border of the wharf, seeking a way out while the goons got the impression they were cornering him against the waterfront.

There! A glimmer of approaching lanterns, the flutter of cloaks in the wind, outlines of men armoured and armed. Just a bit more…

[color=white]“We’re not lettin’ you run this time!”[/color] Having noticed him peering around, the pony-tailed man lunged in, a twisted piece of metal wielded as a baton, ready to strike. Wulfric braced for impact even as he tried to evade, when some sort of a makeshift projectile - a rock, by the sounds of it - hit pony-tail’s rod, knocking it off-course. The prince was as surprised as his opponent. He knew the guards were on the way, but this had come flying from another direction. Which meant–

[color=white]“Whu– Where did–?”[/color]

Before the pony-tailed man might get clued into the count’s presence, the prince improvised.

[color=ab274f]“Guards!”[/color] he hissed.

[color=white]“As if we’d believe that!”[/color]

[color=white]“Wait, no– boss, they’re comin’ over fer real!”[/color]

[color=white]“When did–?!”[/color]

Sensing opportunity, the royal acted.

[b]SPLAAAASH![/b]

Having pushed one man into the sea, Wulfric began a mad dash back towards the alleyways.

[color=white]“ROY!”[/color] the leader roared.

[color=white]“Bastard!!”[/color] That was the bruiser.

[color=white]“Fuck–the guards’re almost ‘ere!”[/color]

[color=white]“OOYY! What’s goin’ on there!”[/color] that was one of the guards hollering at the lot of troublemakers causing a commotion. 

[color=white]“Damn it! DAMN! We can’t waste time on that [i]fuckin’[/i] bastard…”[/color] The words receded into incomprehensible shouting as the prince gained distance.

While the thugs were all a-tizzy, frantically working together to pull their ally out of water, Wulfric was full-on sprinting. [i]One[/i] of the guards had split off from the rest to pursue him, but the royal had a head start. He vanished into the first alley-way he came across, taking sharp lefts and rights to impede the lone guard from catching sight of where exactly he had gone.

There was that familiar, practically soundless padding of feet across a rooftop nearby. A whisper of his name was carried to him by the night’s breeze, gentle as a petal floating off a flowering tree. Wulfric followed the call to the count’s silhouette outlined by moonlight, where he crouched on the roof and extended a hand down to him.

Ghostly pale. Beckoning him.

The prince approached a nearby windowsill at a run. Once the toes of his right boot were on the narrow ledge, he channeled all of his momentum into one powerful, vertical jump. He grasped Hendrix’s hand, and the count pulled him up with strength he wouldn’t have expected given the man’s frame. His free hand grabbed onto the edge of the roof, his boots found purchase on the wall, and he landed next to Fritz in an awkward half-crouch. If the man hadn’t moved out of the way, Wulfric would have ended half on top of him, so though not as graceful as he would have liked, the maneuver ended better than it could have.

A couple of streets away, the tell-tale [i]clink-clink[/i] of someone running in armour could be heard. [color=ab274f]“Impeccable timing,”[/color] Wulfric huffed a near-silent laugh. The two used a fallen beam as a catwalk to the next building over, and found a convenient nook in its half-exposed attic to hide within. There were crates, wooden panels, and a variety of clutter they could use as cover, so it was simply a matter of waiting until the guard gave up on chasing them.

The small attic nook seemed to shrink with each passing heartbeat, or perhaps that was just Ryn’s awareness narrowing to the man beside him. Prince Wulfric radiated heat like a furnace after their midnight chase, his presence filling every corner of their hiding spot. Each measured breath ghosted across Ryn’s skin, raising goosebumps despite the warmth of the summer air. A bead of sweat traced down the prince’s temple, catching the moonlight, and Ryn found himself transfixed by its slow descent.

The prince shifted beside him, and the movement only brought them closer together in the confined space. What had been noticeable heat before now pressed against him fully, and Ryn could feel each rise and fall of Prince Wulfric’s quickened breath.

And it was at that moment when the smell decided to join them. Fish guts.

[color=9354FF]“I guess you’ll be needing another bath,”[/color] Ryn whispered with a soft laugh, though considering he had skipped his own wash earlier, he was hardly one to talk.

Wulfric turned to Hendrix, arched eyebrow raising sardonically, only to realize how very close they were. Breaths intermingling, bodies pressing together. He didn’t even mind the smell of sweat, had adapted to it without realizing. Yet, he was able to detect something distinctly [i]Fritz[/i] in the man’s scent. His mouth grew drier, and not only because of the need to hydrate. He resisted the urge to stare.

Huffing, he shook his head, and redirected his attention outside, watching out for the guard. When it was safe to do so, he descended back to street level. [color=ab274f]“That was an impressive feat of marksmanship back there,”[/color] he referenced Hendrix’s rock throw. He had not seen him do it, but he knew he must have been the one to disrupt that one thug’s attack. [color=ab274f]“Has anyone ever told you that you take on more work than needed?”[/color] he asked jokingly. Really, the count was far too good at making himself reliable.

Ryn looked up, [color=9354FF]“Do I?”[/color]

Tilting his head at the man, scrutinizing, he replied with meaning, [color=ab274f]“Yes.”[/color] A pregnant pause followed as he considered whether to say more. 

Ultimately, he did. [color=ab274f]“If we are to be allies, you can depend on me, at least for some things.”[/color]

This time, it was the other man who paused. [color=9354FF]“... Such as?”[/color] 

[color=ab274f]“Such as trusting I can handle myself in a fight, so you can rest easy and not worry too much,”[/color] he drawled. With a tiny nonchalant shrug, he added, [color=ab274f]“Generally, I am inclined to assist in matters which are aligned with our goals.”[/color] He’d figured that much was self-evident, though by the way Hendrix was looking at him, he was judging how far he could extend that trust. Well, that feeling was very much mutual. [color=ab274f]“Why, do you have something in mind you would like a prince’s help with?”[/color] he inquired curiously.

[color=9354FF]“... A lot of somethings,”[/color] Ryn smiled weakly at the prince. [color=9354FF]“Many of which I’m not sure what to do… or if… ”[/color] He looked away from the prince and sighed. [color=9354FF]“I’m sorry. There’s things that I still need to make sense of.”[/color] Then, with a brand new smile, Ryn faced Prince Wulfric. [color=9354FF]“Thanks for offering, Adel. You’ll be the first to know when I need your help.”[/color]

Wulfric hummed. [color=ab274f]“Do keep it in mind. I rarely make this kind of offer, so it would be rather a waste.”[/color] Rolling his neck, he cast a glance upwards. It was getting late, but he did not wish to wrap up the night just yet. [color=ab274f]“So, is there anything else that [i]you[/i] would like to see?”[/color] he turned Hendrix’s earlier question back on him.

[color=9354FF]“Somewhere other than a bathhouse? Hmm.”[/color] Ryn’s gaze traveled across the expanse of Sorian before settling on the capital’s tallest building. 

From the bell tower’s height, the two men watched Sorian surrender to the deepest hours of night. Most windows had gone dark, though scattered lamplight still pierced the darkness below like earthbound stars—taverns, brothels, and gambling houses burned the brightest. Darkness claimed the slums, their shapes lost in the shadows, broken only by the occasional flicker of illicit fires. Beyond the harbor, moonlight painted a silver path across the waters, stretching toward the horizon where sky and sea became one.

[color=9354FF]“Amazing,”[/color] Ryn breathed, his words carried away by the wind that played among the tower’s ancient bells.

Perched on the parapet edging the small viewing area located beneath the bell tower’s roof, Wulfric canted his head, watching the starred expanse above as a small carefree smile played about his lips. Hendrix’s whisper tickled his ears, stirring old memories even as this very moment created a new one, a recollection he might cherish in the future. [color=ab274f]“Breathtaking, isn’t it?”[/color] he murmured. 

He stretched out a hand, reaching above, to the stars. He traced the path they lighted, a vast expanse of darkness in between rendered trivial only due to its unfathomable distance. Yet, the illusion that it was close enough to grasp incited boundless desire. His extended fingers lingered at the boundary between the heavens and the earth, the line between them blurring as they joined into one. Even as his hand retracted, a sense of nostalgia permeating him, he posed a quiet question. [color=ab274f]“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to sail amongst the stars?”[/color]

[color=9354FF]“Not in many years,”[/color] Ryn eyed the profile of the prince’s face, noting the childlike wonder on it. [color=9354FF]“Have you?”[/color]

[color=ab274f]“Yes, but…”[/color] a hint of wryness crept in, [color=ab274f]“My answer is the same as yours, truth be told.”[/color] Folding one leg up, he leaned an elbow on it, resting his head on a palm. [color=ab274f]“It has been…a while.”[/color] Their adventures of the day recalled a time long past. [color=ab274f]“I haven’t had this kind of fun in many years. I never even knew running away could be so enjoyable,”[/color] he mused. Facing the count, he said plainly, [color=ab274f]“Thank you for today.”[/color] [i]For giving me a chance[/i] is what he meant perhaps, though whether the prideful prince could even be aware of such a notion was unknown.

Ryn stared at the prince for a long moment, the words forming slowly, as if they had to travel a great distance to reach his tongue. [color=9354FF]“Thank you, Your Highness,”[/color] he said finally, [color=9354FF]“for giving it a chance.”[/color] Because none of this—the chaos, the laughter, the strange, unexpected joy of it all—would have happened if the prince had not taken a chance with him.[/color]