It could have been worse. It could always be worse.

However, it was bad.

The Marauder is simply at his best when all is planned in advance. Having company was not planned. He had but a thin margin of error.

Elias himself was eerie. His smile didn’t match the words he spoke. Nor did the look in his eyes. And what could his intentions possibly be, if not to turn the Marauder in?

Blue would have to remain vigilant especially now that he isn’t alone. It could cost him in the future.

He settles on his chair.

***

Dear Mr. Twaine,

I encountered a new associate today, whom I was met with on an astounding note. Upon conversing, we settled that the best course of action would be to resume my endeavours in cooperation.

Eagerly awaiting your response,

Blue

As he signs the letter, Citrux approaches with the usual crimson strip of ribbon, perching herself on the cluttered desk. He winds the ribbon around his now completed letter, leaving it for the bird to retrieve.

He engraves a passage into the walls, setting foot out and into Pisces, hundreds of leagues away, yet closer to home than he has been in weeks. He stands alone, within a sea of rolling hills, gazing at the city on the horizon. Citrux – who should be perched on Blue’s shoulder – is resting on his head. She lets out a chirp, likely asking whether she can depart. Blue nods, and the bird, startled by the sudden tremor, flutters away in the morning breeze, grasping the note. His father would send her back to him, along with a response.

The Marauder retreats into an arch against the brick walls.

He had told Elias to meet again in a week, giving himself much less time than he originally anticipated. He would have to resort to something more efficient. More unplanned events- stellar.

Blue swipes his notebook off the desk, skimming through his sketches and doodles. Each page was saturated with information; notes about places all throughout the C​ope. At last, he stops at a page, sinking into his notes on Aries. Minutes later, he throws the notes to the side, and races back towards the capital.

His mind races as he paces towards the market. He isn’t ready.

He knew he may someday need to succumb to this last resort, but even with the forethought he felt unprepared. Now, as it creeps closer with every minute, the Marauder hesitates.

His mind is filled with doubts.

He ignores them.

He would have to spare some syhoses; stealing what he needed was not an option. The Marauder, still disguised, approaches a store, keeping away from the market to avoid recognition from the merchants who were there earlier in the day.

The boy turns around, only to find himself face-to-face with a White Rider. A broad, burly man, bearing the Riders’ badge and armour. A Rider-

The Marauder does what any notorious, talented thief would do in the face of danger: panic. He leans on the door behind him, stepping away from the man. Hastily, he reaches for his hood, whilst beginning to mutter an incantation when- the door falls open behind him.

Blue lands on his back, now looking up and two concerned faces, one of a boy, seemingly slightly younger than himself, and the other of the Rider. Suddenly, he is reminded that he is fully disguised and practically unrecognizable. The face behind the Marauder is left unknown to many, including the White Riders themselves. Thank Horo.

The boy looks worried- Blue finds that shocking. He offers the Marauder a hand, dismissing the Rider with a smile.

“You looked kinda uncomfortable with the... officer there, so I thought I would, well, let you in. Are-” He observes Blue. “Are you okay?”

Blue lets out a sigh of relief, rising to his feet. He speaks, flustered, attempting to recover from his shock. “I uh-” a pause. “Yes, thank you.” The boy smiles back in response.

The Marauder wanders in the midst of the shop, finally absorbing his surroundings. It’s a cozy room, lit by several small lanterns. The walls are packed with shelves, and the shelves with an assortment of items. The boy retreats behind the counter, surveying the shop. The Marauder makes his purchase.

Several lengths of rope, a variety of lock picks – because magic is not always reliable – a narrow blade, and a grappling hook. Also a small shard of Auxilium, several bottles filled with an assortment of potions and elixirs, a large pouch, and a small lantern.

He knows he would scarcely use half of what was purchased, but it was best to prepare for every scenario.

He hopes everything would pan out. He hopes he's ready.

The royal vault awaits.