Joker's Story

The first turn is the past. Joker thought to himself as he turned the first card of his Tarot Deck sitting on the table before him. The card was the High Priestess. It was upright, indicating wisedom and knowledge, learning through life experiences or being taught. This represented his life of study.

As long as he could recall, he was raised by the great human mage Zane Kasiolatta. Joker came to know him as father and master, as Zane raised him to learn the ways of the Tarot as well the forgotten arts of their true potential. Joker showed a great deal of promise at a young age, so Zane took him under his wing and taught him all he could. On Joker's 17th birthday, Joker was sent off to experience life and learn on his own, to discover his own path and the power that laid dormant within his cards and himself.

Now, 7 months later he had traveled through the kingdom of Marthan, finding refuge in the kingdom of Tai, in a humble little tavern he had stopped in to rest and maybe have a drink or two. He had taken up an out of the way corner booth, avoiding anyone that might recognize his face. That would be the last thing he needed at this point.

The second turn will show the present. Joker thought to himself, only to have his thoughts disrupted by the rowdiness of some very obnoxious knights a couple booths over. He over turned the second card, the Five of Wands. You can say that again... The Five of Wands upright indicated conflict and annoyance, to be hassled and irritated. These bastards a few tables down were clearly represented by this card.

The third will glimpse the future... Joker tried to focus back on his cards instead of those disgusting excuses for knights. He flipped down the third card, the Tower.

"Uh-oh..." Joker spoke under his breath in annoyance. The Tower stood for a sudden and unexpected change, a new beginning. Suddenly the knights had turned their attention on a young beautiful blonde girl. Joker couldn't stand these jackasses already but to show aggression and vulgarity to a woman, especially such a lovely one, was more than he could stand for. So he stood up to intervene but the woman seemed to beat the crap out of these losers with such ease, they could have been beating themselves.

Suddenly, he heard that the knights were from Marthan, and what was worse, they were here under the order of the king. Oh makers, I've got to get out of here... Joker started to try and sneak out, without anyone noticing. Yes, no one would notice the slender well-toned attractive jester trying to creep out of the tavern....

The three men she’d taken down were all back on their feet, looking as angry as before, yet they seemed to be refraining from taking action as they had before. The man Fia had thrown her water on stared her down, but the blonde did not cower away or even cringe up in the slightest, she simply looked upon the pathetic lot who wore the dresses and colors of knights with much disdain. She appeared almost expectant. Other patrons within the tavern were eyeing the scene after what could barely be called a brawl broke out between the men and the woman. Whispers could be heard flittering through the anxious people, they wondered how far this might escalade, if it would break out into an all out fight, or if the knights would even flee back to their country and call out reinforcements. Because they were from Martanth, and they evidently had business in Tai, it was not out of the question they would be allowed to bring a brigade of knights into the small town of Apea, and do what they desired under the orders and permission of their king.

Those innocent bystanders had a right to be wary, considering the relationship between Martanth and Tai. . . . Even the proprietor of the tavern found himself too uncertain to intervene in the whole situation. The people of the tavern knew that the girl who had egged the knights on was not of Apea, they hadn’t seen her before, and as such, they wanted to keep the ascending problem between her and those she decided to take on.

“You were already told that what we’re doin’ here is none of your business.” the knight Fia had kneed and elbowed down spoke, his voice had an edge of seething anger to it.

The girl’s eyes flickered over to him, an icy glint overlaying them. She showed no fear whatsoever toward the men, considering what she’d managed to do to them before. So easily, she’d managed to bring them down with a few simple moves. What reason did she have to be afraid? Of course, her course of action was certainly not of the best choosing, but it was too late, she’d gone down the path of taunting the men, and then taking on their attempts to attack her. Besides, as she considered herself, she felt it was partly her duty to know why it was three knights of a rival country were in Tai. Although she herself was not of the seven human countries, having been raised in a small village that lay in the land of the Salamander, in what was a literal world away from Apea, these sorts of things fell under her personal sense. Martanth warriors setting foot in Tai, ready to carry out orders from their king—orders that they would dare not divulge. . . .

For what reason would a mere three men wander into a rival country alone, without a brigade of knights under secrecy? Fia’s eyes looked upon the faces of the three men, carefully taking in their features, their carried expressions as her mind quietly mulled it over. She was far from a stupid woman, and in her years as a mercenary, there was much she’d learned. Three knights, a king’s secret orders, and in a rival nation . . . that added up to a select few things. The knights before her were obviously not emissaries of peace, if they had been, Fia was certain that they would not have resorted to intimidation tactics with her so readily before. To her, that led to only one other conceivable reason. They have been sent as assassins.

“Are you listenin’ to us wench?” One of the men spoke, the one she’d punched before. He was looking at the quiet girl as if she’d suddenly been struck dumb for not giving them a response.

At hearing them address her as ‘wench’ again, Fia huffed and tilted her head downward slightly as she shut her eyes, feeling irritation garnering within herself. “Do you think it wise to dare call a woman who bested the lot of you in a brawl ‘wench?’ Truly, wisdom is spread far and thin within men of your kind. . . .” she sighed, hearing the men beginning to protest her words, “The three of you are arrogant due to your statuses as knights in Martanth’s royal army I imagine.”

“Ha! What do we not have to be arrogant about? You only got the better of us because you fight dirty.”

They say I resort to cheating in combat when they came upon me three-on-one. . . . Fia shook her head before she opened her eyes again and stared the men down; the glint running through her eyes was enough to send a visible chill down the spine of the knights. “I am far from a fool, seeing the three of you here, and hearing you are undertaking orders from your king that you dare not reveal to anyone. I can only imagine what it is you are doing in Tai,” she gave a little smile before continuing, “Could you lot perhaps be assassins?”

Her speculation caused the three knights to go still and silent, shadows seemed to be cast over their eyes. That was enough; Fia needed no verbal confirmation with that. The woman smiled a knowing smile and relaxed her posture just a bit. “As I am ‘The Envoy of Death,’ it would be asinine if I could not spot out those who would act as murderers, would it not? I would make a fool of myself if I could not speculate upon such.” Her expression became serious again, the three knights looked upon her with wide eyes when she revealed herself under the title of ‘Envoy of Death.’

“Y-You are the one people call Death’s Envoy?! A woman like you?!” The man Fia had soaked with her water questioned, shouting at her while pointing in disbelief. The atmosphere in the tavern grew completely quiet as all heard what the man had said, most people had at least head the name ‘Envoy of Death’ in passing, and knew enough to understand that it was a name to fear. The mercenary carrying the name was rumored to be ruthless, fearless and utterly without mercy . . . some regarded them as a brutal killer.

People began to whisper to one another wondering if the thin girl before them was truly the well-spoken-of mercenary.
“Hah!” she was laughed at, “If a wench like you is the one they call the Envoy of Death, then I must be Desclarr’s son!” He looked back at his comrades, who as him began to laugh.

“As if one of the divine would be directly responsible for presenting Edasler Bria with such a cur.” She sighed, “I am indeed who I claim to be, the known mercenary who dons the color of white, who has never failed to do her duties. . . . The one who will cut down whomever threatens the life of her client, ‘The Envoy of Death.’”

“Tch . . . tell you what woman, I’ll believe your claims if you can come back with the head of our target on a pike for us. Take his life, and I’ll recognize you as Death’s Envoy.”

“So I was indeed correct, you have been sent here as assassins to take the life of some soul. . . .” The blonde sighed and shook her head, “I am not interested in receiving your acknowledgement, I know who it is I truly am. Further still, I am no assassin. I will not be paid to blatantly take a life unless I am defending a client.” As she finished speaking, the sound of cups and dishes breaking behind her caught hold of Fia’s attention. Startled by the noise, the teenager craned her head about and looked back to see the source of the commotion . . . it turned out that a server had managed to have her tray tip over her, spilling everything she’d been carrying. But, that wasn’t what quite caught her attention, instead, Fia’s eyes were drawn to a jester-type figure who seemed to be trying to covertly leave the tavern. . . .

Nice and quite... Don't draw attention... Joker thought to himself as he crept closer towards the door. Every word the three bastards spoke made Joker cringe in disgust and building anger. If this were any other time, any other situation, he would have silenced them personally by now. But he could not risk this. He couldn't risk being caught by the Martanthan knights, it was clear they were here for him.

He had tried to tune out the men, believing the girl could take care of herself, he didn't want to risk hearing them say something to send him over the edge and give away himself. But suddenly they yelled out something that caught his attention:

“Y-You are the one people call Death’s Envoy?! A woman like you?!”

Joker stopped dead in his tracks as a cold shiver ran down his back. Th-the Envoy of Death...?! He thought to himself in a panic. In his travels, he had heard the name spoken in fear before, but he had assumed it to simply be a myth. He never expected to cross paths with the Envoy of Death, much less discover them to be this girl. The Envoy of Death was spoken as a monster, a murderous beast with no mercy. I've got to get out of here! He gingerly stepped faster for the door, this time listening very closely to the envoy and the three men. Someone as deadly as she need to be kept track of in case she too would try to kill him too. But then she said something that made him stop again.

“So I was indeed correct, you have been sent here as assassins to take the life of some soul. . . .” The blonde sighed and shook her head, “I am not interested in receiving your acknowledgement, I know who it is I truly am. Further still, I am no assassin. I will not be paid to blatantly take a life unless I am defending a client.”

A smile slowly crept across his face. That's it! Taking advantage of the focus on the knights and the envoy, he gave a nearby server a light bump causing her to spill her tray of dishes, catching her so she would not get hurt. He placed a finger softly over her lips and a wink, and then quickly ducked down behind the crowd and snuck to the exit and out the door.

Suddenly, Joker came running back through the door and leaped over the crowd like an acrobat, driving his feet in a flying double kick into the faces of the knights that the envoy had punched and kneed. They dropped to the floor like sacks of rocks as Joker flipped backwards and landed in front of the Envoy. He smiled charmingly at her and spoke softly, "Hello mistress Envoy." He gave a light curtsy like bow. "I wish to employ your services."

What the hell?! that was the only coherent thought that could go through dear little Fia’s skull as she witnessed a rather colorful blur suddenly soar overhead of the crowd and herself, she’d looked on to see a server who’d managed to tip her tray, only to then find that a jester was trying to sneak out of the tavern before he had just burst back into the place. . . . When the jester just as unexpectedly planted his feet into the faces of two of the Martanthan knights who’d she had been speaking with, Fia herself could not help back but assuming a defensive stance toward him. Just what was he doing?!

The crowd of people in the tavern all audibly gasped and began to chatter among themselves, fully watching what was unfolding. It was as the jester was flipping back from kicking two of those men that Fia heard what slipped from the mouth of the one who’d been left standing, “There you are you bastard. . . .”

Of course, her eyes slipped back to look at the man for a moment before she looked back at the jester who landed before her in an manner that bespoke of a certain sort of refinement. . . . From that man’s words, I may only infer as to whom this man is . . . he must be the one he and his comrades were ordered to slay. But, why would a king order the slaying of a simple jester? The man was a joker, someone who likely would only ever serve as entertainment to a king’s court . . . what threat could one such as him truly pose to be worthy of word of execution? Ludicrous. Fia thought, her expression changed into one of anger, one of disgust. To think that a king would order the assassination of a clown. . . . I had heard rumors of how unstable the mental status of Martanth’s king was, but I suppose I now know for certain the truth. . . .

Fia kept her gaze transfixed upon the joker, noting that he was probably not much younger than herself. He gave her a amiable smile, one that was enough to make Fia’s face go a bit red—despite her experience as a mercenary, she still wasn’t used to dealing with guys her age since most who hired her were typically twice her age. . . .

”Hello mistress Envoy." He gave a light curtsy like bow. "I wish to employ your services."

So, he wanted to hire her now? Seems like her getting her peaceful night off just wasn’t going to happen at the rate things were going. . . . First she had to deal with three Martanthan knights who were obnoxious nimrods, then she came to understand that they were under orders to execute a simple jester of all people, a boy who was of the same mere age as herself. He was young, and someone who could not conceivably be a true threat to a king—as far as she was concerned. And now, the very jester whose life was wanted by nobility wanted to hire her. Alas, this was how her life was always to be if she choose to remain a mercenary, she would continue to bounce from one job to another, going through all sorts of happenings, never having a true moment’s rest. So long as she remained the Envoy of Death, this is what her life was destined to be.

Her face remained slightly flushed from the earlier smile given to her by the wanted joker, yet a smug smile formed over the mercenary’s lips. Ever eventful, and bound to be one who protects those who request my skills, this is after all, the style of living which I choose. Fia laughed to herself quietly, lowering her head down, knowing well that being hired by the jester would be a way which to declare herself an enemy of Martanth, the king wanted the boy’s head after all. Cosette, are you watching the insane lifestyle your sister has taken on? Are you at all proud of me for what I do, or does it sicken you to know that I take people’s lives? An enemy of Martanth . . . well, she was already spoken of as Death’s messenger, so what did it matter if she were deemed an enemy of one particular country now? People were afraid of her, even those of royal armies. As a mercenary, she protected those who hired her, and even those who did not when she felt the need. And . . . the joker before her had more or less just done qualified under the former condition. . . . Though, it was likely enough she’d have intervened in the situation without such a request being made anyway, getting paid for it though just made the whole deal better.

“Given your request, I do expect that you recognize precisely what it is you are asking of me,” Fia spoke, a strange edge to her voice, a knowing one. “To serve you, it would in due course effectively have the Envoy of Death branded as an adversary of the crown. . . .”

Behind her, the men who’d been knocked down by the jester’s little aerial feat were ascending back to their feet, grumbling and holding onto their bleeding and possibly broken noses while the one who remained standing looked onward, his expression anxious, as if he did not know what to make of the idea that the jester may wind up receiving the protection of Death’s Envoy . . . even if he was not sure if the fragile looking woman before him was really her.

A little smile passed over Fia’s young face before she finished what she had to say, “. . . .you had best grasp that I do not make for the most pleasant of traveling attendants, jester, you are merely hiring me for my sword, not for my etiquette.”

“Shit. . . .” one of the men behind Fia cursed, his words utterly seething. Hearing the curse, the blonde looked back to the men, the Martanthan knights, her expression cold. “It looks like we’ve got more crap to deal with then before because of you wench!” Despite the man’s anger, Fia was not a blind woman; she could see the apprehension within the three. They were already worn down from the pathetic show beforehand, where they’d attempted to attack her, and now two of them sported injured noses. “Tch, we’ll be coming to get you both when we’re back at our full strengths, you just wait!” With that threat placed down, the three knights suddenly hurried from the tavern, eyeing both herself and the jester as they went by.

For a moment after they were gone, the establishment was quiet, and Fia simply stared at the exit which they’d taken out before she spoke, “Truly, the low standards Martanth bears for its knights is . . . astonishing, if they were truly so dedicated to their king’s orders, the simple fact that I took on such a task should not have deterred them, same regards for their injuries. Ah, no matter their empty threats,” the girl looked back at the young man who was now her employer, “So be it then, your request has been accepted, however, I do appreciate the notion of having the name of the one who has hired me before continuing on.”

A big smile crept across his face when she asked for his name. Like all clowns he found that first impressions should be damn good, so that everyone remembers your name, and he needed these people to have something better than three punks ruining everyone's good time. "But of course."

With speed seemingly quicker than the blink of an eye, Joker pulled up a table and two chairs that sat across from each other, one facing away from the table. He swiftly snatched a lute off of a nearby traveler and rapidly flickered his fingers across the strings, bursting forth a sharp but powerful song to accompany his introduction. He stepped up onto chair facing out and then up onto the table as he sung. His smooth lulling voice soothed the panic and confusion of the bar, causing women to swoon and men to tap their feet along.

"Gaze into your future,
Do not forget the past.
I see all of it within
These cards Magic's come to cast.

I am the jester of the suns, the fool that follows the moon,
I see the future, now and past, I am Joker, the laughing one.
I am the clown of the morning stars, I am the comic of the skies.
I see comings yet to come, I see lives pulled undone.

Gaze into your future,
Do not forget the past.
I see all of it within,
These cards magic's come to cast.

I've traveled 'cross the plains of gold, over mountain tall and wide,
I've passed through a land of blood, to search what I will have won.
I can witness every scene, I can see it like a dream,
I see comings yet to come, I am Joker, the laughing one.
I am Joker, the laughing one.

I am the jester of the suns, the fool that follows the moon,
I see the future, now and past, I am Joker, the laughing one.
I am the clown of the morning stars, I am the comic of the skies.
I see comings yet to come, I see lives pulled undone.

I am Joker,
I am Joker, the laughing one!"

He flung the lute away, back into the arms of its owner, he then shifted his weight forward, forcing the table to tilt and land on the chair facing in, propelling Joker lightly off the table, landing in front of the Envoy gracefully once again. He made a deeper bow as the tavern erupted with merriment and cheer. "A pleasure, Madame." With that he gently took the Envoy's left hand and gave it a gentle and respectful kiss.

There was no denying the jester his skill in the ways of song, that much Fia could indeed say was the truth. Though she was not of the most experienced sort when it came to conversing with the opposite sex, or at the very least, those who were around her own age, she wasn’t so flimsily-hearted that she’d swoon from hearing a song, not as some of the other women within the tavern. Yet still, she would well acknowledge his talents. . . . Even if she felt the theatrics unnecessary for a mere introduction. However, this was her personally, she was not used to associating with those who provided entertainment to other such as he. From his little performance, Fia could only surmise that he went by ‘Joker’ rather than a proper name—oh well, to each their own. That is what she supposed anyway.

As he finished his performance, Fia herself did calmly applaud him, though she did not go all out in cheering as some of the tavern’s patron’s did. She could only wonder what this foreshadowed. . . . Cosette, do you well know what it is I have agreed myself to? Fia thought, wondering indeed if her sister in heaven was already aware of what it was she’d gotten herself into now. Acting as a protector to a jester . . . the Envoy of Death and a young man who went by ‘Joker,’ certainly a mismatched pair of trekkers they’d make.

A rather placid expression took hold of the young woman’s face as Joker finished up his little show, and landed before her elegantly for the second time that night. . . . .was that to be a routine thing? There was no visible change within Fia until it was that he took hold of her left hand, which caused her to tense up, her body stiffened as the barest hints of discomfort played over her young face. ”A pleasure, Madame.” she heard him speak, but the only thing that could cross Fia’s mind was slight panic.

And though the act of Joker pressing a kiss to the back of her hand was enough to again make her face flush with color—it was not enough to free the mercenary of the clear anxiety she seemed to be experiencing at that moment. Her breath had hitched in her throat, and her heart had begun to skip beats as a result of it. Rather quickly, the girl wrenched her hand from the jester’s, seeming far more abrupt than she’d intended to. She did not mean to seem so rude toward him . . . but it was her left hand, had that been her right instead, she could have better dealt with it, she would not have felt so very . . . alarmed. Her breathing was rather shallow, and her face a strange mixture of color and ashen skin. Her body seemed a tad bit shaky even. . . . Biting on her lower lip, she cast her gaze away from the man and to the floor as she drew her hand into her chest, clutching onto it with her other. Why did it have to be my left hand?

“I-I will request that you do not do that again Joker, I express regret for potentially seeming uncouth, but I am not much for physical contact with others unless a state of affairs calls for it in battle.” The girl’s voice left her lips in a wavering fashion, seeming so different than before, when she’d taken on the Martanth knights with no hints of fear in her voice. Keeping her hand cradled against her chest lightly, Fia slowly and abashedly drew her gaze back to the jester before her, her new employer. “. . . .as you have given me a way with which to address you, as one you are now employing, I should return the notion.”

She gave a short and shallow bow to him before she gave her name, “I am Fiammetta Thorne—the one deemed the Envoy of Death.”

Joker stared emotionlessly up at the Envoy as she wretched her hand away his. He seemed meditated and calm as he looked at her with curiosity. But then a gentle understanding smile came across his face. As she spoke, Joker felt her fear and pain but even more he could feel her regret for having to even ask. Joker nodded softly continuing to smile empathetically. Remaining bowed over he bent down further in a deep bow. "My humblest apologies Envoy Fiammetta, it will not happen again." He then rose up and smiled softly at her as he stood up straight.

"Perhaps we should leave before we draw more attention to ourselves." The way he spoke it was almost as if he wasn't the same person that just broke into song only moments ago. The warm flames of the tavern flickered lightly, making Joker's eyes light up, revealing a vibrant red color, which was odd because while singing it seemed as if they were a cool green hue.

Sincerely she did not wish to seem rude nor to make anyone uncomfortable, but it had to just be her left hand he’d grabbed. . . . She didn’t like being touched, well, she could handle it if someone were touching her right side more so than her left really. Honestly, she still would have been uncomfortable If he’d grabbed her right hand instead of her left, but at least she could have reacted in a more polite sort of manner than just recoiling as if she’d been touched by a nightmare. This jester who merely referred to himself as ‘Joker’ was to be her employer, and traveling companion for some time to come it seemed . . . perhaps it was better he learn of her aversions immediately rather than later. Yet still, there was a sense of guilt laying within her now. Her anxiety was truly an unnecessary one.

He was apologizing when he didn’t need to—but she needed to maintain some semblance of herself before him. His smile made her face flush again however, and she looked away from him, a clearly awkward expression over her face. Damn it, is this going to happen to me every single time he smiles . . . ? She was going to have to adjust to this, before her face was permanently red. A sigh escaped her lips as she continued to hold her hand against her chest, keeping her eyes cast to the side of Joker with a small frown on her face. An employer who was a young man her age, and who was actually polite as well, on top of the fact that Martanth’s king wanted him dead, something told Fia that the coming journeys and experiences within were going to be a meshing of interesting and possibly awkward on her part given her inexperience. I am suppose to be the Envoy of Death, a dreaded figure who is rumored to be merciless and bloodthirsty . . . and yet, I am reacting to him as if I were a pre-adolescent girl. . . .

Her body still shook just a bit from before, but for the most part, she felt as if she’d regained some of her composure. As the jester again spoke, suggesting they leave the tavern, the blonde could clearly hear that the tone of his voice had altered from before, it seemed to carry an edge of negativity to it, unlike the upbeat positive air it held before. Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to look back to him, making herself return her hands to her sides, where they belonged. “There is not a need or reason for you to apologize to me Joker, you could not have known of my . . . aversion.” She said, finishing quietly, as if she were searching for the right way to put it. “But yes, we should be leaving here, if not for the fact that we’ve drawn attention to ourselves, but for the simple notion that it would be getting late, and I am an early riser—so, sleep is required soon.”

“Have you yet rented a room at the Inn here in Apea?” she asked him.

"Have you yet rented a room at the Inn here in Apea?" she asked him.

"Uhh..." Joker averted his eyes, looking away nervously. The truth of the matter was that Joker didn't really have any money. Even just in his bag he possessed only 4 gold pieces, 6 silver, and 3 bronze coins. Ever since escaping Martanth, he had been sleeping in trees, among alley ways or for a short while in the home of friendly hospitable people, mostly women that treated him like a stray puppy. But to avoid being found he had been on the constant move, never staying anywhere more than a day, usually traveling under the cloak of darkness. He hadn't even eaten in two days, but he hid all of it well.

"No, I do not have a room." He didn't wish to disclose the fact that he didn't actually have anything to pay Fia with, At least not yet... he thought to himself, placing his hand over the satchel on his hip where he kept his deck of Tarot cards. He slowly resorted to his first defense against women, charm. He slowly looked back to her, giving a soft and tender blink as he locked his eyes with hers. He spoke with combined demeanor of seduction and self-pity, "Could I perhaps... Stay with you?" he gave her a longing smiling and a gentle stare.

The fact that this young stunning woman was actually the Envoy of Death did not deter her beauty, but in Joker's mind enhanced it further. Not only was she physically lovely but she had the heart of a warrior, coupled with intelligence and grace, everything about her intrigued and attracted Joker to her. While he had tried his best to keep himself unattached to the world he was traveling through, he felt like he had found something special in Fiammetta. She was his Tower.

She knew something wasn’t quite right at his initial reaction to her simple question. He hesitated in responding to her, and a sort of uncertainty seemed to envelop the jester—Fia was perceptive enough to gather that much by looking at him right then. In her time as a mercenary, she’d seen this reaction from people more than enough times to have a rough idea of what it meant. Her eyelids lowered a bit and she simply looked upon him with a rather apathetic sort of gaze.

If I were to guess . . . I would suppose he is not high on funds at the moment. If her guess was indeed right, then Fia felt a need to actually laugh at the situation. He’d hired her knowing well that he was short on money . . . when in irony, she would have actually been willing to aid him in his situation with Martanth had he merely asked rather than requesting to ‘employ her services.’ Although she did indeed need to be paid for doing what she did often enough to get by in the world, she wasn’t a greedy woman, despite her title as ‘Envoy of Death,’ Fia wanted to believe she was actually a pretty decent woman for giving help to people who needed it without asking for money.

”No, I do not have a room.” he responded to her at last, Fia simply continued on looking at him with a rather unreadable expression, noting that he’d lightly clutched onto the satchel kept at his side. Why did she have a feeling she knew what was coming from him next . . . ?

It was quiet for a minute or so before Joker turned his gaze back to her, albeit slowly. The expression upon his face had changed rather drastically, a purposeful change in how he carried himself, and how he choose to spoke. Although she still had little experience dealing with men her age, Fia really only found herself turning bashful when she knew well enough that one was not putting on a ruse of sorts before her . . . as what was happening before her now. Unlike before, her face was not turning the slightest hint of red, it wasn’t even changing to a tint of pink. ”Could I perhaps… Stay with you?” he asked her, confirming her earlier thoughts. She’d nailed it—Fia had thought that Joker was going to wind up doing this, asking to stay with her.

The Envoy dully blinked and stayed quiet for a moment, despite the smile and expression upon the jester’s face, longing and temperate. Her own features reflected something unreadable. So . . . to clarify what she believed now, the man who’d hired her before seemed to be short on money at the moment. If he didn’t want to be honest about that then so be it. She’d play along with that notion for now, whether he had money or not, she would still be willing to keep Martanth from unjustly trying for his life. ’Tis the proper thing to do, is it not Cosette?

“In all truth Joker, I could not care less if you roomed with me,” Fia finally spoke, sounding almost bored in her words. “You have hired me as protection, and it would serve commonsense if we did room together, if only for the sake of your own self.”

The woman’s eyes glanced around through the tavern, noting that several servers were already midway through cleaning up the mess that had been made by the Martanth knights and herself earlier—she couldn’t deny feeling a bit bad about that one. The men had flipped a table and knocked a bench over while causing her food to spill. Food. . . . she suddenly thought, something clicking in her head. If her suspicions about her client’s lack of proper funding was in fact correct, that might well have meant another thing beyond mere money. Looking back at Joker, Fia noted that his complexion didn’t seem the healthiest, he looked to pallor. He has not been eating properly, or he has not been at all. Realizing this, she elicited a sigh from her lungs and set her hands on her hips, shaking her head. So, was she going to have to feed him . . . ? Typical luck, but she’d taken on the task of protecting him now . . . so be it.

“However, before we take our leave . . . I would like to take an order of food with me; those men earlier interrupted my dinner.” Her voice was blunt sounding, her expression harsh. Using her own intermittent meal as a reason to actually get him food wasn’t the worst of ideas. “Please wait for me by the entrance, I will meet you there after my order has been filled.”

She did not wait for a response from the man before she turned on her heel and headed for the bar counter, catching the attention of the tender there. “. . . .is there something I can do for you Miss?” he asked her, his voice certainly not the happiest it could be.

He was probably upset about her little fight before, and there was the fact she’d been recognized as the Envoy of Death, but Fia did not let this deter her. “Um, yes sir, I would like to request two orders of food for a carry out?”

"Hmph, whaddya want?”

Setting her hands on the counter, Fia thought for a moment before she responded. “Could I please get two orders of yellow curry cooked with chicken? And then, a small loaf of bread as well?”

The man didn’t say anything in response to her, and merely nodded before disappearing into the kitchen, Fia was left to wait several minutes before he returned—her order of food wrapped within a cloth for carrying. She thanked the man, and paid him what she owed before taking hold of the cloth with both her arms and heading back to the entrance to meet with Joker.

“In all truth Joker, I could not care less if you roomed with me,” Fia finally spoke, sounding almost bored in her words. “You have hired me as protection, and it would serve commonsense if we did room together, if only for the sake of your own self.”

Joker was so overjoyed he unintentionally dropped his facade, something nearly never did accidentally. He had to sleep in the rain for four days in a row that week, and the skies looked cloudy that night, so the idea of a dry bed then was very heart-lifting. Joker could care less if she made an emotionless response to what he had learned turned many women to pudy in his hands; inn keepers, bar maids, naive princesses. Normally her resistance or intelligence to see through his charisma would have impressed and awed Joker, but he was too thankful to care. His red tinted irises slowly faded into a soft green.

“However, before we take our leave . . . I would like to take an order of food with me; those men earlier interrupted my dinner.” Her voice was blunt sounding, her expression harsh. “Please wait for me by the entrance, I will meet you there after my order has been filled.”

As Fia walked away, Joker's stomach growled desperately. He gently reached up and petted his stomach lightly and spoke to it, "Stop whining... Master said there would be hardships and trials..." His stomach replied with a loud rumble. "I know... I'm hungry too..."

Joker could have eaten and slept comfortable if he had just stolen food and broken into a home, but he couldn't do that to good innocent people. Only corrupt and the wicked were targets for his skills that would be the envy of any thief or criminal. Unfortunately there are far less criminals and bad people in Tai that there was in Martanth. So this past couple of weeks were some of the worst days of his life.

He walked over to the enterance, leaning against the wall like a child waiting for their parent. As he watched Fia walk back towards him, he smiled longingly and genuinely, his heart stood still a moment and then sped up quickly. Then his eyes drifted down, just then noticing the large cloth bag. That's her order...? he gulped slowly, hoping that one so frail appearing as her couldn't eat that much and let him have the scraps. It would be far more than he believed he deserved.

How silly it seemed, here she was, a mercenary who was reputed to assist the very concept of Death . . . secretly ordering dinner for the jester who was suppose to be her employer. In a strange way, she felt more like she were volunteering as a babysitter rather than being a protector. Well . . . there was no denying that she herself was older than he was, probably by more than a year. So, perhaps the notion of her being a ‘babysitter’ wasn’t entirely off. Fia could honestly say that she’d never once imagined that she might be saying that or even thinking that. In a way, it was sort of funny. But, she was one to take on the task of protecting people who needed her aid, even if they couldn’t provide her with compensation . . . of course, Fia understood one other thing—at the moment, it looked as if she were going to be paying the way for her ‘client’ for a time to come. I will more than likely have to take on another task as a mercenary while I look after him as well in order to get by.

What was she daring to get herself into this time around . . . ? Yes, she was an honorable woman who sought to protect those she felt needed it, but this time around, she might just have been getting herself in over her head without meaning to—thinking about it now, she realized that she was making herself an enemy of Martanth. The reality of that was beginning to sink in, and the teenager comprehended how very serious that could make things for her if she weren’t careful—even if she bore impressive skill as a combatant, there was still risk involved.

No matter what I might realize now, there is no denying that something is very wrong with a king issuing an order of assassination toward a mere jester, even if this might be truly foolish, defending him is what I perceive as the proper thing to do. Keeping her grip on the cloth bundle which held the food she’d ordered, Fia stopped before Joker, noting the fact that he was looking right at what she carried.

She had to resist the urge to smile to herself, or to say anything right then. No, she’d relay the bit of her ordering a meal for him as well until they got to the inn. A rather blasé expression took root upon her face, and she stood quiet before him a moment, tilting her head to the side as the quiet persisted, only to finally speak herself. “Well, my order has obviously been filled, so I believe that we are prepared to leave for the inn.” Without waiting for a word from him, Fia opened one of the tavern’s doors and stepped out into the night, the dark night. The sky above was latent with thick clouds that seemed ready to let down rain at any moment, so no moons shined in the skies over Apea that night. In a way, it almost seemed an omen . . . if one were to think about the weather too much that is.

Fia wasn’t one of those sorts, she simply took the weather as it was—clear, cloudy and rainy. In silence, she made her way for the inn; simply assuming that Joker was following behind her, her pace was relatively quick due to the prospect of rain. She did not want to be caught out in it, definitely not while carrying food. It wasn’t so long of a walk between the tavern and Apea’s inn, perhaps five minutes or so. But, right as Fia stepped into the dimly lit lobby of the inn, there was a crack of thunder followed by the sounds of rain beginning to fall onto the roof of the building. The blonde blinked, and looked up, staring at the ceiling for a moment before simply saying, “Well, it looks as if we have managed to beat the rain.” A sigh came from her suddenly as she turned her head back down—she wasn’t particularly fond of rain.

Joker silently shivered as they quickly walked through Apea to the inn, remembering the cold wet nights on the streets the past few nights. He kept a fast gingerly step behind Fia, following her foot steps precisely and eloquently. The smell of the food flooded his senses and pulled him after the bag in her arms wantingly, like a stray dog trying not to beg.

Joker looked around the lobby of the inn slowly, taking in all the places where he could escape; through any of the three windows or the small dumbwaiter he could see in the corner of the room, that most likely lead to the few floors of the inn and the possible cellar. Tapping his foot to the ground he felt the wood echo lightly, indicating open space below, his suspicions of a basement were confirmed. He could hide behind the counter, duck under the handmade sitting furniture, or dive through a window in a second's time.

But then again, now he had The Envoy to think of as well. Maybe he could afford to be more defensive than evasive. Since she was protecting him it was the least he could do by returning the favor.

The rain reminded her too much of things that had happened in the past—the night where her life had forever been changed. . . . Her parents, Cosette, the weight she now bore. It was something that always reminded her of the duty she carried as a mercenary, and weight of a life that had been sacrificed to give her, her own. Unintentionally, Fia’s arms tightened around the cloth sack she carried, just by a bit as a sense of discomfort hit her. Remembering wasn’t something she enjoyed, but it was a necessity in order to live, whether the act of it left her with pain in her heart or not. Feeling as if her heart had sunk within herself, the blonde breathed out slowly and remained quiet for a moment before she forced her composure to return, steeling herself against the age old pain and weight plaguing her now. Turning back to Joker, she looked at him for a moment before speaking, “The room I had rented out lies upon the first floor, it is not far off.”

Without giving it much thought, the Envoy slowly turned around and took to heading into the nearby hallway that split off from the inn’s lobby, going toward the room she was going to be sharing with her ‘client.’ There was a lot for her to think about now, even if she knew that keeping Joker protected from Martanth’s pathetic assassination attempts was the right thing for her to be doing, she needed to consider a few important things before trying to press on in her journeys in the morning, if she could. . . . .she preferred not traveling in the rain if it could be helped. Considering that Joker was the only client she was suppose to have at the moment, it was very possible that traveling in the rain could be avoided for a day or so. They did need to move when they could of course, Fia was aware that Martanth would be on the lookout for the jester soon enough again, the rumors of the country’s king labeled him as a persistent and unstable man—when he issued an order, he saw fit to have it carried out, no matter how long that might take.

She alone could move rather quickly, speed wasn’t a problem for her, but she wasn’t sure about Joker, he seemed agile enough. . . . Travel didn’t seem as if it were going to be an issue.

However, there was the matter of her potentially having to take on other jobs as she defended him, it wasn’t unlikely she’d have to act as an escort from time to time for people in-between towns and villages in order to keep up with income, Joker didn’t seem to have much money with him so she had a feeling that her money needed to go a ways longer now. That was all right though, she could bear with it, as long as she could get by, she was contented.

Things weren’t going to really be much different for her now than from before she reckoned. . . . She was going to go on living as she had before, only she had to keep check of another’s wellbeing now, which included making sure he ate. Fia’s eyes glanced down to what she carried in her arms, and she could only wonder how long it’d been since Joker had actually eaten with how poor his complexion was—he didn’t look like he’d last much longer with as much as she knew about health.

I suppose that Guiscard’s lessons and instruction have finally begun to be of some use to me now. Remembering the old man who’d taken in her in after her parents and sister had died, a small smile full of nostalgia crept upon Fia’s face, and her remembrance could be seen glinting through her eyes. It had been a while since she’d seen the old doctor . . . and she wondered how he was doing. Last she’d seen him, he’d been rather peppy for one his age. He was a good old man, treating Fia as his a grandchild. . . .

Fia stopped before the door to her room, pulling a key from a pocket in her skirt, she undid the lock and proceeded inside, leaving the door open for her new traveling companion.

Inside, she went ahead and brought one of the lamps to light before she set the food down on one of the room’s beds, and undid the knot upon it, opening it up to show the two orders of curry she’d requested and a small bread loaf wrapped up in thin paper. Maybe Joker would realize that she hadn’t just ordered for herself. . . .

Joker followed Fia into their room, his eyes locked on the sack of food as she opened it. He nearly drooled as he saw that much food, though he didn't need to say a thing. GRRRRRRRRRWL Hid stomach roared for him. He grabbed his stomach in embarrassment. "E-e-excuse me..."

Joker figured now that they were alone he didn't need to hide much more from his employee, but his voice wavered embarrassedly as he spoke. "I-I haven't really... Eaten... In... A few days...Please don't mind me..." Joker smiled humbly but weakly, the smell and look of the food was almost unbearable.

He nervously and weakly clung to his deck's satchel.

Fia stiffened up and her eyes widened in genuine astonishment when she heard someone’s stomach growl, knowing full well that wasn’t her own. The look of surprise still upon her face, she turned herself around from minding the food to look at Joker with her eyes wide, the woman simply gazed at him for a moment, maintaining her silence. Even if she might’ve figured he hadn’t been eating right, or in a while, she hadn’t really imagined that she’d hear that. . . .

Truthfully, as the jester seemed to meekly apologize to her his stomach, she almost smiled and laughed a bit. She couldn’t help the urge—to her it was a bit funny. ”I-I haven’t really… Eaten… In… A few days…Please don’t mind me…” his voice was truly meek, it held a tone of utter embarrassment, as it should’ve, one’s stomach growling so loudly was indeed a rather mortifying occurrence when a room is dead silent. Fia knew that well enough from her childhood.

For the love of the holy—he’s trying to play it off as if he does not want to interfere, but he could not be more obvious if he were even trying. the blonde thought, sighing and shaking her head while she turned her gaze away from him again, looking at the food. I truly have gotten myself into something this time. Without uttering a single word to her client, the mercenary went about breaking the loaf of bread into two halves through the paper it was wrapped in before she set one part of it upon the top of one of the curry containers. Ignoring the sound of the rain hitting the window outside, the blonde picked up the food container that was on top within the cloth and turned around to look at the jester again.

“To be quite honest with you . . . it is rather obvious that you haven’t been eating.” She spoke to him, her voice rather blunt. “Your complexion is pitiful—you are ashen, Joker.” Taking steps forward, Fia stopped before the young man and held the food out to him. “I am not so sightless or gluttonous that I would only order food for myself and disregard the observably starving person with whom I am to be journeying with.”

A nervous habit of smiling and laughing usually came up with Joker under situations of stress. But the smile he made when Fia turn to him with a bowl of what looked like noodles and half a loaf of bread, it broke through his nervousness completely. He could almost cry. This was more food than he had eaten in the past month. He started the season only affording to spend money on rice grain; the rest of his money was required for someone important. He never knew who he was suppose to give it to, but his master told him of it often.

A very vague and flaky master, he would sometimes forget they were even talking. Joker never could tell if he was doing it on purpose, because it seemed like he heard and saw everything. Joker grew up in fear of being caught doing something bad and being sent away, and the fear developed his morality, but through his own personality made his will. Joker was always a determined student, learning everything that he could comprehend, his last test drove him onto this quest away from home.

Joker took the bowl, "Thank you! I'm so relieved to have some good luck for a change." and with that he began to eat rapidly and desperately, scarfing down at what seemed like inhuman speeds and amounts. After but devouring all but about a cup of noodles and three slices of bread, he stopped, mentally scolding himself for his impolite eating. He looked up nervously and smiled, "Thank you for the meal Mistress Envoy Fiammetta Ma'am..." He spoke unwittly, a rare form for him, unsure of how to address her, despite knowing her name.

She looked at him with shock as he ate, honestly, in her whole time as a mercenary she was pretty certain that not once had she’d ever seen another person eat with such . . . gusto. Not even the Salamander clients she’d taken on before, and they were reputed to have rather impressive appetites. Although, part of her wasn’t so astonished—after all he had said he hadn’t eaten in a few days and only the Gods themselves knew the quality of his eating beforehand. If I had to guess, I would imagine that he was not very well off. Fia shook her head and returned to her own food, she was quiet as she seated herself upon the bed she had inadvertently claimed as her own for the night and began to slowly, and quietly eat at the yellow curry. Unlike many would expect, she was actually a rather slow and meticulous eater when it came down to it. . . .

She was going to have to make sure that the jester before her was actually eating proper meals in the time that he was with her, the last thing she needed was for him to collapse from malnutrition if they were trying to avoid Martanth’s knights, or other potential enemies. I suppose this is what it feels like to have to look after a younger sibling when one has no parents. . . . Fia thought to herself, truly it was an odd thought, though it was not an unwarranted one. Even if she’d had a younger sister at one point in her life, she had been too young to know the feeling of having to care for her before she’d passed on. So, the teenager could only imagine that the situation before her was much the same.

Continuing to ignore the rain outside to the best of her abilities, Fia ate without making a sound, and it was only when Joker ceased practically inhaling his curry that she did look up from the container upon her lap. ”Thank you for the meal Mistress Envoy Fiammetta Ma’am…” he was smiling, and his voice was nervous. At least his current smile was a real one.

Moving her own curry to the side of her on the bed, she looked back at Joker, her expression blasé. A sigh came from her lips before she grabbed onto the cloth that the food had been carried within and ascended to her feet before she proceeded over to the jester, and stopped right in front of him. “You have curry on your face. . . .” she said quietly, setting her right hand on the side of his face as she went ahead and began wiping it off, although she did indeed bear an aversion to being touched, it was different if she was the one doing it herself. “And, I will ask that you simply address me as ‘Fia,’ Joker. Formalities are not something I enjoy, calling me ‘Mistress’ or ‘Ma’am’ would make it sound as if I were years older than you.”

He looked up at her with genuine charm, which seemed far more charming and seductive than when he faked it. He blinked slowly, staring deeply in her eyes as she wiped the noodle from his cheek. "Th-thank you... Fia." He spoke her name slowly and longingly. He slowly looked away embarrassedly.

He slowly began to eat slowly again in nervousness and silence, while he was very skilled with the women and being seductive, it wasn't quite the same with her. He felt nervous and uneasy around her, he usually was so quick witted and suave but he seemed to lose composure around her. Maybe he was just too weak from hunger to put up better emotional barriers, whatever the cause he didn't feel right, but he didn't dislike it nessicaraly.

Stepping back from him after he’d said her name, Fia had to look away. Her face had flushed just a bit, she didn’t quite understand why that was, she just knew that the way he’d gone and said it had made her feel . . . weird. The sentiment was an awkward one, it made her feel uncomfortable, rather so. Still holding the cloth in her hand the mercenary, she turned around while keeping her face from his view—she didn’t understand this and Fia was sure that he didn’t need to know about this either. If anything, she was sure that what was happening to her was just a result of her greenness with men around her age, that had to be it. Even if she’d gone through experiences most regular folks couldn’t even imagine, she was still human, and when a human had an inexperience . . . they got flustered when confronted with it, didn’t they?

However, from the way Joker was speaking to her, the edge his voice carried, it seemed as if though she weren’t the only one of their duo that felt strange. His voice wasn’t being forced or falsified, the tone it carried was genuine, but that was what made her feel so bizarre.

Forcing herself to breath in deeply, Fia did her best to banish the odd feeling festering within her person back into the depths, where it belonged. She needed to act like the adult she was now, no time for silly things. . . . “You do not need to express gratitude Joker, there is no need for it.” Fia nearly mumbled that before she turned around and headed back to her bed, dropping the cloth onto the floor near it. Without saying anything the mercenary closed the lid of the curry container and moved it onto the nightstand that stood between the beds in the room, and quietly laid herself down, seeming to move in a more careful manner than before in regards to her left side. “If there is anything you feel the need to tell me about this job, now would be the time for you to do so. . . .”