Happy to Meetcha!

More importantly, mullet-boy’s reaction tells Ewan a few things. As he gets a closer look the theory of secret child becomes less likely. Unless Innes somehow discovered the power of mitosis, the resemblance is a little too similar to suggest parent and child. Secondly, “I” have no illegitimate heirs, the boy says.

“Hold on, hold on! You’re telling me… you are Innes?” Red eyes widen, a hand going to his mouth in surprise. The kid considers himself to be Innes. This opens up new possibilities.

A) Innes somehow shrunk down in size.

B) Innes somehow traveled through time.

Both seem kind of insane, but at this point that shouldn’t surprise him. This monastery seems like a hub for weird happenings. Was it built on a cursed burial site or something?

“Innes is built like a palm tree though! And he’s really scowly and mean and kind of a weirdo. But you’re so small and cute!” He gives the teeny Innes a poke on the cheek, watching with fascination as what he assumes to be remnants of baby fat squish slightly under his index finger.

Never mind the fact they’re probably around the same age, when you spend most of your time around older people you start to consider yourself as more mature as well.

That is neither here nor there.

"And I am not built like a palm tree." He is only fourteen, so he has no doubt he will grow. As he is currently, he knows he is lanky, but why should he care about that right now? He shoves a bookmark into his book, since clearly, he won't be left in peace to read it.

"I am not cute. Nor am I a 'weirdo', as you put it." He gets to his feet and, luckily, he is taller than this annoyance. Innes tucks his arms behind his back, like a bird folding its wings. He is tense, and if the boy did look behind Innes' back, he'd see his hands shaking. He can keep it together; otherwise, what has this all been for?

"I have no interest in you. Go away."

“In that case, I’m Ewan!” He shakes the boy’s hands energetically as he introduces himself. “In the future, I’ll become one of your very best friends.” Briefly he entertains the thought of adding a witty remark as he tends to do around Innes, but he decides against it. Isn’t he just the nicest guy ever?

Suddenly a horrible chill runs down the boy’s spine as the heavy silence is broken by the sound of a little pebble. For a brief moment, he wants to get his hopes up. That everything is fine and there are people living here.

If only it were that simple. From a distance, close enough to see a shape in the mist but too far to truly discern any features, a humanoid figure shambles forward before suddenly stopping.

“W-What… what the heck is that….?” Ewan says in a low whisper, pointing towards the unsettling figure. Suddenly its neck twists, and two red lights glow where the eyes would probably be. It’s staring at them, the offensive scent only becoming worse and worse.

Suddenly it doesn’t feel as quiet anymore, the way he can now hear his heart beating a mile a minute.

The figure stares for a moment longer.

The tension wound about him, coiling uncertainty so tightly that the sword was out of its sheathe the barest moment that the creature lurched forward, its fingers grasping the spot where the boy had once been.

Although his blade struck true and clean, making neat incisions along bicep and torso of the figure, it barely stuttered, and the scent that erupted from it was so foul it made him jerk backward himself, lifting the inside of his offhand elbow to his nose.

“Back up - it isn’t - what - ?”

Chunks of the thing sloughed to the ground, and spattered along the stone path, disintegrating nearly instantly into a fine powder, nearly a smear of dust as shambling feet continued to guide the thing toward them.

“Move - run!!”

He didn’t wait; Raven hooked his fingers beneath Ewan’s armpit, and he dragged the boy away from the thing, running through the gate and further into the town, over the rough and uneven cobbles beneath their feet. The chill crept closer, wrapping around them with the crawl of fog, and Raven felt his breath coming short in spite of himself.

He was not an unfit man, and the altitude was not so great - what was happening?

Except it’s somehow worse. So much worse. Where the demon king’s spawns could be cleaved in two with a sword or blasted with magic, these monsters are made of sterner stuff. Fog was a natural occurrence in the mountains he calls home, but it was never this thick- not to mention the uncanny feeling it gives off.

He doesn’t need to be told twice when he’s instructed to run. Little legs frantically move when the monster attempts to close in on them, moving even faster once Raven grabs hold of him. They eventually find a safe spot, at least as safe as it can be in a haunted village.

“Hah… boy.. that was a close one….” The mage says between heavy breaths. Internally he thinks to himself that he should work on his cardio more once this is all over. “What the heck is a monster doing here…?!”

Then it hits him. The flesh colored shape has teal on top, but not on the bottom. Suddenly his vision clears.

“Your majesty! Have you finally decided to remove that hideous mustache?!” Crimson eyes fully open, distinct star-shaped pupils suggest familiarity. However, wide-eyed innocence was replaced with the shine of wisdom. His voice too, a far cry from its usual squeaky cadence. “Wait.. Have you gotten younger?”

It only just hit him that besides the mustache, his majesty also lacks the beginning onset of wrinkles in his face. More revelations happen as he realizes he’s not even in his own chambers anymore. While looking around he stands up, as if he never even lost consciousness. “Is this.. the academy? Wow, it’s been years since! But why are we even here in the first place?”

It seems like one thing that never went away is the fact his brain ran a mile a minute. That said, where the boy struggles with processing all the information that his brain naturally picks up, this young man is quick to realize what’s happening here.

He truly is older. Still shorter than himself but noticeably taller and healthier looking. But more than that, it's his clothes Ephraim takes note of. They're formal and bear the color of Renais.

Azure eyes snap back to Ewan's face just as he brings up the orb and makes the declaration that he is a visitor from the future. And if he's understanding right, it is the orb that brought him here.

"Then we need to get Ewan back. The Ewan of this time. He must have traded places with you."

He has heard before of magic being used to see through time. Lyon had utilized such techniques before succumbing to the Demon King but he had not heard of him having the ability to actually cross through time. Apparently these orbs were made of very powerful magic and that meant they were dangerous.

"There are several of these orbs around the monastery. If we find one, could you use it to go back to your time?"

“These bubbles are a one-way lane. Only the person that used it can actually reverse the process.” Like he still owns the place, the boy- or rather the young man sits down on his past self’s bed, crossing one leg over the other all while maintaining his easy grin. “Which means, it’s all up to mini-me to save the day on his side! Knowing his brilliant mind, I’m sure he’ll find a solution sooner or later.”

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

In complete fairness, it doesn't seem like he spares enough energy to care, and neither do the two royals brawling on the floor. ...Ah, well. Rules were made to be broken, after all.

The noise in the room rises to a fever pitch. There stands Rowan's sister, her words landing on deaf ears; Darios, impassive as always but eyes glazing over; Darios's partner, struggling against all hope at the lock. Sanaki frowns — no one actually wants to watch anymore, and a fight isn't any good without a captive audience!

Shaking her head, she shoots a mildly smug look at the masked man by the door — you're on your own, sir — and steps up to her own ring.

Better to neutralize the situation before the redhead gets hit as collateral damage. "Let me help!" she shouts cheerfully to the boy. "...And I suggest you let go of Prince Innes now."

He keeps sputtering insults, deaf to himself, too. He hates Rowan. It's a hatred from deep within, a place Innes had never even known was there. His heart beats in his ears. He knows nothing but this.

His body seizes and, for an agonising second, Innes can't breathe. Something flows through his body, and it convulses. The jolt blinds him with pain, until Innes has no choice but to let go of Rowan. The feeling eventually subsides, and his body almost collapses entirely on top of Rowan. Barely, just barely, Innes holds on.

It’s really unfortunate he didn’t notice what was being told to him, until it’s a beat too late. He turns to Sanaki. “Huh? Wha-“

One second he’s trying to pry Innes off and the next his body seizes so badly he can’t do anything but hold onto the sniper with a vice grip.

“ASKKDMSJCNWKFJAJDKSKCLSN-“

Of all the magic types to get hit by, Thunder has to by far be the one that sucks the most. The rest hurt, sure. But Thunder gets into your body in a way that leaves every inch of it sore. When the pain ebbs he collapses briefly on top of Innes’ back, and he can feel his soul’s urge to fly away.

That doesn’t happen, thankfully, but it is a little concerning that he didn’t feel his soul going upwards.

His gaze turns to the side, to where Miss purple is standing. Anger bubbles up quickly. “What is wrong with you?! I’m all for stopping a fight but ZAPPING people?!” The fact she thought she had to intervene with magic bruised his ego a little more than he’d like to admit. Especially because solving problems with magic is supposed to be his thing! And he wanted to use his shiny new freeze spell he’s learned!

Even worse, now that he feels like an adorable deep fried potato, suddenly the chaos around him seems 10 times worse. Before he realizes what he’s doing, fire coalesces at his palm. “See how you like it!”

He’s not thinking ahead, not thinking about the fact he’s introducing more fire to a locked room. But right now his priority is getting the fight to stop- PROPERLY, and nurse his bruised ego. Throwing a little fire at the person that shocked you is a fair thing to do then, right?

Of course, if they truly needed one another's aid they would set aside their differences... right? He wants to be hopeful of that fact but the world is not so ideal. Innes is a particular kind of prince and Rowan is a relaxed kind of king. Even without the... booger... the two of them are so far from a match it's almost hilarious.

Surprisingly, Rowan continues to hold the upper hand in his opinion. Maybe its because deep down he knows the value of the title or maybe Innes' character gives away his hopes too much - regardless the blow is decisive to the spirit where Innes is decisive to the body.

"Now now," he says and he shoots Bruno a glance. "Language like that is reserved for enemies. Despite your... disagreements, we are all allies here."

"ROWAN ZION AYTOLIS, ENOUGH!!!"

She never said his full name. Never. She'd yell at Innes too, if she knew a full name to spit out at him in her fury. And oh was she furious. Hopefully her furious shout would at least catch their attention. She was done being witness to this.

At Darios' glance, his mask remains unmoving despite the deepening furrow in his brow; and at the shout of Rowan's entire name, Bruno hopes that whatever apology resides within his gaze is conveyed enough. Noble standards had disintegrated the moment they stepped into this space, and Bruno had little interest in hearing more voices join the noise.

A turn of his head toward the door, sharp enough to sway silver in his peripheral, and he makes his way over, slow. Each step is careful enough such that the click of his heel should be inaudible. His glove rests on the doorknob—

click. Er, another turn of the knob? Somewhat gently though, he reminds himself, to not draw too much attention to his struggle with the door. clickclickclickclickclick,

clickclickclick,

...click,

It may have been the responsibility of the faculty to ensure these mysteriously unlocked rooms were secured, but to lock the door while there were still people... He frowns, this time the downturn of his lips visible for all to see. His heel pivots to bring him back toward the sight of fire, of green and yellow, and his arms fold to muffle the race of his own heart.

But now that it’s devolved into a full on brawl, Ewan isn’t sure if it’s funny anymore. Sure, Innes is annoying, uptight, condescending, really rude and mean spirited and in general an unpleasant person. Yeah, he’s kinda asking for it by being so blatant about his frustrating Innes-isms and yeah he kinda deserves it for opening fire first… But he’s still a friend! A precious friend even, though Ewan would never admit that.

The mage’s never seen Innes lay the smack down on someone quite like this, not even when they were still fighting hordes of undead freaks. But hedgehog head, after saying a bunch of stuff that sounds like nonsense to the boy, is right about one thing. They’re all allies here. And blondie’s…. Sister? (Even if she sounded more like a mother) Clearly had enough too considering she went on the full name basis with a fury only an angry relative could have.

She probably has blondie handled, and that leaves Innes. The little mage is convinced he’s the only one capable of handling his prickliness, considering he has no friends.

And so he’s the first to step through the flames, a menial task for a mage as talented as him. (Wait. This is no time to brag, not even mentally.)

Ewan was far from a first choice, despite his magic ability and familiarity with the terrain. But when the intended team disappeared, as well as the backup team and the backup of the backup team.. there were precious few options left than letting this overeager moppet give it a go. At the very least they didn’t let him go at it alone, hiring someone to protect him.

…he wished they picked a better conversation partner though.

“Oh! There it is! Look!” Irritation was quickly forgotten as finally they found what they were looking for. A short distance away, close enough to be seen in the mist, was a large gate surrounded my stone walls. “That has to be the place, right? How many other villages would they build at this altitude?”

Walking closer, the boy’s face scrunched slightly as an odd scent assaulted his nostrils. “Yeesh, you’d expect the wind to carry away the smells here…” It wasn’t bad enough to be downright foul but… it wasn’t exactly pleasant either. “Huh?”

The size and sturdiness of the walls implied a closed community of some sort. At the very least, they probably wanted to keep outsiders away. But if that were the case why would the gate be open like this? It didn’t help that the structure was covered in dark stains, some black and some a reddish shade of brown….

Despite walking ahead for most of the journey, this time the boy found himself taking several steps back until he was standing firmly beside his companion. “Uh… just so you know, I’m not scared. This is just.. caution. Better not to rush ahead too far, you know? Ahaha….” Ignoring the fact that “rushing” was most of what he’d been doing this entire trip.

“If you don’t slow down, you might fall and hurt yourself, or worse.” The warnings were for naught, as the boy would have charged ahead and ignored him regardless, he suspected - but it was fine, in the end. His stride was longer and stronger, and no matter the boy’s determination to get himself lost just as much as the previous expeditions had, Raven was too watchful a chaperone to allow it.

“Careful,” he repeated, and the smell had truly begun to set in at this point, and Raven nearly gagged at it, a wrinkle forming in the bridge of his nose. The scent was nearly familiar, something that could have nestled itself in his memory if he allowed it, but in what manner he could not quite put his finger on.

He didn’t comment when the boy came to his side, simply glanced down for what little reassurance the commiseration could provide, and slowed his pace. A hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword, and his steps grew more cautious.

The stone was neatly kept enough to imply that there was a community within the walls, but his mind screamed at the dissonance, the suffocating silence. He wasn’t sure what he might have expected when they arrived, but the eerie quiet dampened and swallowed by fog wasn’t it.

“There’s…” A frown, beetling his brow. “No one here. This is the only place for…miles.”

His boots hit the cobbled stone path - as well kept as the walls - and from his right, a distance incalculable, he heard the sound of a pebble dancing across the street. Raven stiffened, narrowed his eyes.

Suddenly a horrible chill runs down the boy’s spine as the heavy silence is broken by the sound of a little pebble. For a brief moment, he wants to get his hopes up. That everything is fine and there are people living here.

If only it were that simple. From a distance, close enough to see a shape in the mist but too far to truly discern any features, a humanoid figure shambles forward before suddenly stopping.

“W-What… what the heck is that….?” Ewan says in a low whisper, pointing towards the unsettling figure. Suddenly its neck twists, and two red lights glow where the eyes would probably be. It’s staring at them, the offensive scent only becoming worse and worse.

Suddenly it doesn’t feel as quiet anymore, the way he can now hear his heart beating a mile a minute.

The figure stares for a moment longer.