#[philipp

The only sounds one could hear here at that time were the rustling of leaves and the faint babel of voices that reached up from the city, carried by the wind. Though tonight, another sound had joined them. Two figures slipped through the silence as they carefully made their way through rose- and tulips bushes.

One slipped ahead lightly, a cloak drawn tight around his slim frame. The other followed a half-step behind, taller, his movements more cautious, as his eyes constantly scanned their surroundings. “Come, hurry up Phil!” Isaac’s voice was a hushed whisper with barely concealed excitement as he glanced back over his shoulder.

Even in the dim light of the rising moon, you could see the gleam in his eyes as he urged the other to hurry up. There was something unmistakably eager in the way he moved, as if he had somewhere to be or had been expected for a secret late-night meeting. Philipp winced softly at the sound, though he couldn’t help the fond curve of his mouth.

“You’re going to get us caught if you keep talking,” he murmured back. His ears twitched instinctively against the hood he wore and he nervously looked around, attuned to the slightest sound, while his tail swayed nervously behind him. Isaac slowed just enough to let him draw closer, turning slightly so they could continue along the path together.

“Relax,” he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips, “I ordered the servants not to bother me, so none of them will check on me till tomorrow. Besides, no one comes here at this hour anyways, not even the guards. And even if someone did see us, they’d never expect the third prince of Soluna sneaking through his own garden like this,” he said, beating his chest as if sneaking out at night was the most casual thing in the world to do.

“That’s exactly why they’d notice, Isaac,” the brunette replied, “princes aren’t supposed to sneak out.” The blonde snorted softly. “Then it’s a good thing I’m doing a terrible job at being one tonight.” Philipp grimaced slightly at his comment, but didn’t stop moving forward.

He was used to his friend's behavior by now, and in all honesty, he didn't even mind it anymore. It made him truly happy to see him so excited about something so trivial as going out on a little nightly adventure - well, not the kind of some might think.

Living as a prince wasn't always easy, although most wouldn’t believe that. Yes, he had a more luxury life than most people out there, but as they say "noblesse oblige" and he also had his duties to fulfill, responsibilities to meet.

Thus, as the loyal friend and servant that he was, Philipp granted him these little privileges, aside from all the obligations that a position like his entailed, to help him recharge.

They reached the edge of the gardens, which were surrounded by a meters high stone wall with watchtowers every now and then. Small pairs of lights could be seen patrolling on them like fireflies drawing their paths through the night - the only visible evidence of the watchful eyes of the palace guard doing their rounds.

The two came to a stop in front of an old statue overgrown with ivy. Despite the slight overgrowth, the marble surface hadn't lost its gleam and still looked magnificent as the likeness of the first king raised his sword up in the air, letting it shine in the moonlight.

Beyond it laid the contorted streets of the main city of Soluna - Sterrenzee - lit by lanterns that cast warm pools of gold against the house walls and shuttered windows. It was a city imbued with trade and art. Namable stores and restaurants seamed the main streets and theatres and operas were omnipresent. Even the outer parts of the city were well-developed and entailed a variety of stores and smaller theaters for the broader mass. A small port, located in the south of the city, welcomed arriving ships that had sailed along the river, and at the same time connected the narrow waterways that crisscrossed the city like a grid, enabling smaller ships to transport their goods to their destinated location. Wide streets scattered to the four winds, formed the land routes, leading to the surrounding viscounties and the neighboring domains, enabling traveling and transport by land as well.

Following these paths westward, one eventually reached the Holy Empire, ruled by the Church of Faith. A land of great wealth, governed by a puppet emperor. The true rulers were a council of old men who still adhered to the ancient belief that those gifted with magic were a gift from the gods and therefore belonged to the church and should be managed by them. Even now, so the story goes, they "shelter" a being that had lived longer than any human, capable of accomplishing miracles. The king - Isaac's father - didn't like to deal with them if he could avoid it, but they were influential and their believes had already began to spread in other kingdoms. At least they didn't bother to involve themselves with other nations politics so far, as long as magic wasn't involved.

Looking east, one would eventually reach the Pririd Alliance, a relatively young federation of various demi-human races. It is a fertile land and golden fields can be seen as far as the eye goes. Humans were still mostly unseen and unwelcomed there, as slavery and trafficking had severely weakened relations until twelve years ago. It was the king who had ended these crimes back then, establishing equal rights for demi-human. Therefore, relations have slowly built up again, and a delegation, including Isaac's younger brother, has been scheduled to travel there soon to further strengthen the connection between the two nations.

...

A small, inconspicuously flowering shrub right behind the statue concealed their objective - a hidden hatch just big enough to fit a person, leading to a secret passage - an old escape route that led into the city and was only known to the royal family and the highest officials. The duo looked around one last time before they disappeared in the ground.

The path was narrow and dark, only lightened by small crystal-like blue stones that were engraved into the cold stone, the air thick, and the stairs a bit slippery, but they didn't take long to pass through it, after all, it wasn’t the first- and surely not the last time they would cross it in the middle of the night.

Upon reaching the end, they stood before a dead end with a bluish shining wall of solid rock. Several runes were engraved in it, giving the wall its glowing color. Isaac stretched out his left arm and slid his fingers over it, leaving a glowing trail behind, that faded away after a few seconds.

The stone felt cold under his fingers and yet he felt how a warmth began to spread from them. Philipp laid his hand encouragingly on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Ready when you are." Isaac took a deep breath before he took another step and walked right through the thick wall, as if it was nothing more than a mere curtain.

Philipp followed half a step behind. The solid rock had been enchanted - a holdover of old Elven magic, that granted the bloodline of the royal family and their most trusted companions free access, making it almost impossible for unwanted individuals or those with ill intentions to enter.

Elven magic was strong and said protection spell had been casted over three hundred years ago. Even now, after countless times walking through it, the mechanism behind it fascinated Philipp, making him feel a little tinglish whenever doing so. Magic was rare nowadays and only a handful of people could cast spells, demi-human not to mention.

Isaac paused just beyond the egress and the brunette almost bumped into him. The prince took another step forward, his fingers lifting to the edge of his hood. The air here smelleddifferent- less of rules and thick air, more of freedom and life itself.

For a brief moment, he hesitated, as though savoring the transition. Then he pushed it back, his blonde hair catching the lanternlight as it fell free. Philipp watched him quietly. No matter how many times they did this, the moment Isaac stepped into the city always felt significant - as if he was shedding more than just fabric.

Isaac inhaled deeply, his blue eyes bright as he looked around. “I love it out here,” he murmured, “it feels… real.” Philipp adjusted his own hood, though he kept it up. “It’s real inside the castle too,” he said gently, “just… different.” Isaac tilted his head, considering that.

“Different isn’t the same,” he replied after a moment, “here, no one watches how I stand or how I speak... or how long I laugh.” As if to prove his point, he turned and began down the street at an unhurried pace, gaze flicking from storefronts to upper windows, to the occasional late-night passerby. You could literally see the sparkle in his eyes.

Despite the hour, the streets weren’t empty, a high contrast to the castle grounds. A pair of bakers laughed together as they locked up for the night. Adventurers roomed the streets, on their way to the next tavern, for another round of ale, or to get their deserved rest for the night. Music drifted faintly from the distance, getting louder the longer they walked.

Philipp stayed close by his side as they strolled through the streets. “Just don’t forget where you are,” he said, “or who you are.” Isaac glanced at him sideways, a spark of mischief lighting his expression. “That almost sounded like a lecture.”

Before the brunette could reply, Isaac reached out and gave his side a quick, playful squeeze. Philipp yelped softly, shoulders jumping as he instinctively twisted away. “H-HeHehey!” Isaac laughed, delighted. “Spoilsport,” he teased, “you always start complaining right when we’re having fun.”

Philipp’s ears burned beneath his hood, a faint blush warming his cheeks despite himself, as he rubbed the ticklish feeling on his side away. He cleared his throat, straightening. “I’m just saying we shouldn’t stay out too long,” he said, a little less firmly than he’d intended, “we don’t want unwanted attention.”

Isaac raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “We can walk around a bit longer and then have a drink. Just you and me.” Philipp hesitated- then sighed, smiling despite himself.

“A bit longer,” he agreed, “but we keep moving... and we’re only drinking one mug this time,” he warned, remembering the last time Isaac had somewhat underestimated the strength of alcohol in the city and had to be carried by him halfway back. “Okay,” the blonde replied enthusiastic and Philipp snorted. One drink shouldn’t be a problem, right?

The streets grew livelier the further they went. Lanterns hung in clusters now, their light spilling onto cobblestones worn smooth by countless footsteps. Voices overlapped - laughter, arguments, snippets of funny songs. The smell of ale and roasted meat thickened the air and let Isaac's mouth pool with water.

They’d reached the tavern district. Isaac’s eyes widened as he took it all in, excitement plain on his face. On each side tavern after tavern in different size lined the streets. Laughter and music drifted from them and the scent of freshly cooked food was even stronger now.

A young adventurer, who had already been looking a bit too deeply into his mug, was just then relieving himself of his gluttony into a nearby bush, and Philipp quickly pulled the other along, who had starred at him with a sympathetic smile, while they searched for a suitable tavern, when Isaac suddenly came to a stop.

“There!” he said, pointing toward a warmly lit three-store building with painted shutters and a sign depicting a bell tied with ribbon. “That one. The Maiden’s Call.” Philipp followed his gaze, nodding. “I’ve heard of it,” he said, “decent reputation. Try not to stare too much.”

“No promises,” Isaac replied cheerfully as he dragged him towards the building. Inside, the tavern was alive with noise and warmth. Tables were crowded with travelers, merchants, and locals alike, tankards clinking as conversations flowed freely. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the wooden beams and worn floorboards.

They managed to find a small table near the wall, Philipp positioning himself so he could see most of the room while Isaac eagerly scanned everything at once. A server soon came by to take their order and Isaac requested drinks and some bread and meat with a grin that suggested he was enjoying every second of this small rebellion.

He smiled over at his friend, lightly kicking him under the table. "Come on, take that hood off now, it only made you look suspicious Phil~" he teased the other. "That's not-" Philipp began but sighed. Isaac was right. He hesitated for a second before he pushed his hood back, revealing his brunette hair and two large ears, with one of them twitching instinctively.

Isaac smiled at the him. "Much better, right?" "...Right." As they waited, Isaac leaned forward, chin resting in his hand, listening openly to the conversations around them. A group nearby argued animatedly about trade routes. Another table erupted into laughter over a poorly told joke. Everything felt loud, messy, and wonderfully alive.

And then Isaac noticed him. The waiter moved easily through the crowd, balancing a tray with practiced grace. He had dark hair and kind brown eyes, his smile quick and genuine as he spoke to patrons, exchanging lighthearted words even as he worked. There was something about him-something warm and unguarded that drew Isaac’s gaze without effort.

He didn’t even realize he was staring until the waiter glanced up and met his eyes. For a brief moment, the noise of the tavern seemed to fade. The waiter blinked in surprise- then smiled. Heat rushed to Isaac’s face. He quickly looked away, heart thudding in his chest as if he’d been caught doing something terribly improper.

He straightened, suddenly very interested in the grain of the wooden table. Philipp noticed the shift immediately. “Everything alright?” he asked quietly. “Yes- no- I mean-” Isaac cleared his throat, forcing himself to relax. “I’m fine,” he said, waving it off, “just… distracted.” Philipp followed his gaze briefly, eyes landing on the waiter as he moved past another table.

Something unreadable flickered across his expression before he looked back at Isaac. “Try not to get us into trouble,” he said lightly. Isaac smiled, though his attention kept drifting despite himself. Somewhere in the tavern, laughter rang out louder than before. Tankards were raised. The night pressed on, blissfully unaware that it was about to take a sharp turn.

Isaac was halfway through his drink when the atmosphere in the tavern suddenly shifted. At first, it was subtle - laughter that lingered a second too long, voices growing louder at one of the tables near the bar. He barely noticed until his gaze drifted back toward the waiter again, drawn by an instinct he didn’t quite understand yet.

The man - Elliot, though Isaac still didn’t know his name - had stopped beside a group of adventurers. Their armor was scuffed and mismatched, cloaks thrown carelessly over chair backs, the sharp smell of ale clinging to them like a second skin. One of them leaned far too close, slinging an arm across the counter as he spoke.

“C’mon,” the man slurred, grinning, “you’ve been smilin’ at us all night. Least you could do is pour us another round, eh?” “I’m working,” Elliot replied, still polite, though his smile had tightened, “you’ve already had more than enough. I’ll bring water instead.” That was when one of the others reached out. Isaac’s fingers tightened around his tankard.

The drunk’s hand brushed against Elliot’s wrist, lingering in a way that was unmistakably deliberate. “Don’t be like that,” he laughed, “just a little fun.” Elliot pulled his hand back sharply. “Don’t touch me.” The table erupted into hoots and chuckles. One of the other waiters crossed eyes with Elliot, but latter only shook his head. Don’t intervene, I can handle.

“Haha, hear that Joffrey, little fellow doesn’t want ya~” one of adventures - a chubby man with barely any hair left chortled. “No, no- maybe *hic* you should’ve asked a bit friendlier!” another babbled as the group fell into another laughing fit, earning gazes from the tables next to them. Joffrey grimaced, his face getting redder, and he tried to grab him again.

Isaac was on his feet before he realized he’d moved. “HEY!” The single word cut through the noise with surprising clarity. Several heads turned. Isaac stood straight, his expression sharp in a way Philipp had seen only a handful of times before. “You heard him,” Isaac continued with a steady voice, “he said no.” The adventurer squinted at him, then laughed.

“And who are you supposed to be, pretty boy?” Philipp stood up as well, positioning himself just half a step behind Isaac, glaring at the redhead grimly. “Someone you don’t want to test,” the blonde said calmly. The laughter faltered. “What’s the problem?” another of the group demanded, pushing his chair back. “We’re just talkin’.”

Elliot looked between them, surprise flashing across his face- then concern. “I-It’s fine,” he said quickly, trying to defuse the situation, “really. I can handle it.” “I don’t think you should have to,” Isaac replied, not taking his eyes off the men who was getting angrier with each passing second.

That was enough. One of the adventurers surged to his feet, trying to shove Isaac’s shoulder. “Sit down and mind your business-” Philipp reacted instantly. The shove never fully landed. His hand caught the man’s wrist, twisting just enough to make him yelp as his balance faltered, landing face first on the ground.

The other adventures starred at their curving friend, their drunken brains trying to comprehend what had just happened. For a second, everything was quiet, before… the tavern erupted. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT YOU ASSHOLE!”

Chairs were scraped back. Someone cursed. A tankard hit the floor and shattered, ale splashing across boots and wood alike, as Joffrey and his remaining drinking buddies pounced on them. Isaac ducked as a fist swung past his head, his heart pounding - not with fear, but with a strange, electric rush.

He took a step back, before shoving the attacker away, sending him towards another approaching one. The two crashed against each other, cursing. Using the momentum, he quickly got closer to the duo and gave them a kick, before they could get back up again.

Another drunk lunged at Philipp, only to be swept off his feet and sent sprawling with a solid thud. The brunette glared down at him with a darkened gaze, his tail stiffing. “Out!” someone shouted from across the room. “Get ’em out!” someone jeered. “Quick, someone call the guards!” another man shouted.

Elliot, who had been dragged away by one of his female co-workers to a safer distance, was watching with wide eyes as the duo was dealing with them, speechless, his heart beating faster. He felt helpless, wanting to help out, but he knew that he would only be in their way, and it made him feel bad. All he could do was watch as they were fighting his fight.

“Damn it, there's only two of them, get yourse-” Joffrey didn't get any further, as Isaac gave him a targeted hit against his sternum, sending the ringleader of the group to the ground as well. Joffrey cursed as he hit the ground, blood spreading out of his nose.

The brawl was messy and loud but short-lived. Philipp moved easily around his last “attacker”, disabling rather than injuring him, as he gave him a controlled and precise blow at his neck, knocking him out instantly. Isaac hadn't been as refined as his friend, but he had been fast - dodging, pushing, using the chaos to his advantage.

Within moments, the drunks were on the floor groaning or being dragged away by other patrons who’d had enough with them. Isaac stood in the middle of the room, his chest heaving as adrenaline sings in his veins. He turned just in time to see Elliot staring at him with wide eyes. “Are you alright?” Isaac asked, stepping closer. Elliot nodded quickly.

“Yes. I- thank you. Both of you.” His voice softened, relief and gratitude mingling in his expression. “You didn’t have to do that.” Isaac opened his mouth to reply, only to get interrupted. “The guards!” someone yelled near the door. “The city guards- someone must’ve called them!” Philipp’s ears pricked sharply as he hastily turned his head to the door.

He swore under his breath and grabbed Isaac’s wrist. “We’re leaving. Now!” Isaac protested instinctively. “But-” “No buts,” Philipp pulled him back, already heading toward the rear exit. “I told you not to cause a scene,” he shouted, as he dragged the other away. Isaac glanced back one last time.

Elliot was still watching them, concern etched into his features, lips parting as if to say something - but the crowd swallowed him up before a single word could be exchanged. Then they were out the door. The relatively cool night air hit Isaac like a shock as they burst into the alley, boots pounding against stone as Philipp didn’t slow until they’d cleared two streets.

Shouts echoed behind them, the distant clatter of armored footsteps confirming Philipp’s fears. They ran. Laughter bubbled out of Isaac’s chest despite himself, breathless and exhilarated as they wove through familiar streets, the castle’s silhouette rising ahead like a dark promise of safety.

“You’re unbelievable,” Philipp muttered, “absolutely unbelievable.” Isaac grinned at him, eyes bright even as they finally slowed near the hidden entrance that would take them back to the gardens.

“Worth it, these drunkards needed to be taught a lesson and I couldn't just stand by and watch them doing evil deeds, you know that that goes against my principles. Besides… I wasn’t the one who hit first, Phil~” he said simply with a teasing undertone. Philipp shook his head, but his hand tightened briefly around Isaac’s wrist before letting go.

“One day,” he mumbled quietly, “your chivalry is going to get you into serious trouble.” And I might not always be there to protect you, he finished in his mind. Isaac glanced back toward the city lights, his thoughts lingering on a warm smile and kind brown eyes he hadn’t even learned the name of yet.