1.2 A Bandit

It was a simple plan if Snail turned her brain off. After all, giant or not, a lone girl traversing a lone desert path had always been misconstrued as easy prey. The main sun had just begun to hover over the horizon, painting the sand pink and orange,

...assuming it were to be a trap, that is. Cérise liked believing in the worst possible scenarios for everything and could draw nothing more than suspicion from what was clearly a cry for help. That was all. The dragon incident had been a one time thing. She'd saved herself last week when her organs were almost harvested, and she'd gotten a very nice bounty for rescuing a pet from a tree, since she was taller than the tree.

More importantly: the letter was heartfelt. There was something about it. It couldn't have come out of someone who killed to live. She'd know.

The main sun had been showing its face for a while now; it shouldn't take long for the smaller one to follow. Because of the towers around, what should've been pink—scorching, too—sand was instead tinted purple. Cérise used the towers' shadows to hide, which was good, but the hypothetical bandits could be doing the same, which was bad, because that meant Snail had to walk under the sun. Safety over proper skin care.

She wasn't scared.

Truth be told, Cérise should've been the bait. Even as a child, she quintuplied his physical strength. He was unreasonably picky about clothes, often wearing the same posh, green cloak and golden sandals, and very thin, too, so he could've pretended to be a peddler or something... so long as he kept his resting bitch face under check.

She wasn't scared.

Once, when drunk, Cérise had told he'd always been "like that". Whatever like that was, she didn't believe him. Then again, she'd yet to see him laugh, hear him sing, or even glance at someone for a moment too long. He'd smiled when he pet a man-eating lizard last month, though.

With her hand on the hilt of her dagger, at last, Snail reached the first tower. She didn't realize she held her breath until she almost choked and died and took a whiff of air that could've caused second-degree burns on someone less accustomed to the climate.

She wasn't scared.

The foreigner said he'd be waiting next to it, but with how the sun made the sand glow, Snail had to squint to even tell where the tower began or ended, let alone if anyone (or a lot of anyones) stood nearby. She croaked, "Anyone there?" as though she expected an answer.

She wasn't scared.

Once again: "Anybody h—"

"Hi!"

She squealed and dropped the dagger.

As she scrambled to pick it up, someone emerged from the shadow of the tower. Snail hadn't seen snow in a long, long time, yet that was the first thing that came to mind upon seeing him. It wasn't just his long, white hair tied in a ponytail or his equally pale skin, but the turquoise vest, the leather boots, the way he clearly had a cooling spell around him. If he were a local, he'd know how quickly that drained the city's magic surplus and the colossal bill he'd get once he tried to leave. He'd try to blend, not... that.

Most importantly: he, the foreigner from yesterday, was alone. "Oh, my bad," he said as he approached. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Y-you didn't. You didn't." Snail picked up the dagger. When she tried to fasten it to the side of her belt, she dropped it again.

Naturally, the snow foreigner who was probably a prince from a forsaken kingdom picked it up... with some difficulty... before handing it to her. That helped even the ground a little bit. "By any chance," he began, cleaning the sand off his hands with a handkerchief, "Are you here because of the letter?"

"Y-yes. yes."

"Wonderful. Thank you for coming. You're the only one so far, but it's early, so it is to be expected... oh, unless you brought someone else with you?"

"No?" She said this, but the very next thing she did was glance at the tower, and the snow prince, of course, followed her gaze. "I mean, not... not exactly. So I'm the first one, right? So there's no one else around."

"In theory, yes."

If he'd seen Cérise, then he wouldn't have asked this question, unless it was a trick. She'd never really heard of pretty boys luring victims to a bandit camp, but it could be a new technique. Briefly, Luke came to mind, but he'd never really showed up during operations. He'd commanded them from afar. This person so casually strolled by himself that he had to have some sort of gambit. Right? Not even a foreigner could be this naive. Right?

"Could we please wait under the shade?" He asked, as though he hadn't started to walk already. It was very suspicious and stuff, but it could also be him prioritizing skin care over safety. When she didn't follow, he stopped. "Something wrong?" Snail shook her head. "Are these structures unsafe in some way? Oh, and what is your name?"

"They're not. Unsafe. Um, Snail."

"Where?"

"No, that's... that's my name." She squinted, but she still couldn't see anything under the shadows. The snow prince foreigner paused before reaching them, glancing at her from the corners of his eyes. They were almost the exact same shade of amber as Cérise's, and in that moment, almost as sharp. Snail gripped the hilt of her dagger again.

The snow prince foreigner asked, "Is this a trap?"

"It's not. Promise. I'm just. Ugh." Talk about messing things up. Cérise would yap at her for this later, but it was either exposing their scheme, or losing the chance to save the universe. "...fine, sorry, my guardian is here. Just in case bandits show up. He won't participate or anything."

"Is that so. Why not?"

"Because he's mean?"

The snow foreigner blinked.

Snail caught up to him. If she'd been able to blush, she certainly would've done so. This was all Cérise's fault. Of course he didn't suffer the consequences of his own paranoia, but her? Pure embarrassment. The snow foreigner savior of the universe prince continued to walk, as did she. "My name is Akiha," he said. "Where is your guardian?"

"Nice to meet you, Aki... Akee... oh, there he is. Hey!" Cérise sat upon a mat next to the second tower, drinking something he nearly spat when she exposed his location by waving. Good. "Come here! We're safe!"

She expected him to ignore her, but Cérise stood up. He dusted the mat a bit before shoving it into Snail's magical satchel which he'd borrowed but never given back. He didn't look at them as he approached, since he still expected bandits to show up. Akiha glanced at her, then at him. His face said all. Why isn't he green? Why doesn't he double my height? "Hello," greeted Akiha, to no response. "Snail told me you have no interest in participating. Howev—"

Cérise swung his scimitar at Akiha's face. Just like that. It was slow enough that Akiha could duck underneath it, weak enough that Cérise could halt mid-strike as a fourth figure appeared. The smart thing would've been to dodge—and Cérise would've certainly told Snail to do so—but instead, he lifted the sword in lieu of a shield to parry the newcomer's blow. 

When said newcomer rolled back and lunged again, he sidestepped, then literally kicked her ass so she'd crash against the first tower. Something cracked. Hopefully not her? The newcomer tried standing, but Cérise punted her again. All the while, his expression was that of someone watching a fly commit suicide on his soup.

Snail held back the urge to cover her face. "Oh... come on."

Akiha unsubtly walked behind her. "Who's... what is... why did he just try to...?"

"Is there anyone else?" Asked Cérise. "If you value your tail, you'll answer honestly."

So that's what the swishing thing under the newcomer's skirt was. As if on cue, it stopped moving. She cleared her throat. She didn't budge. "Leave." She cleared her throat again. "Leave these. These innocent people alone. Villain."

"...huh?"

"Or I'll get angry."

After a second or two, Cérise stepped away. He sheathed his sword. None of them were worth a second glance. "I promise he's not usually like that," Snail whispered. He was usually like that. "Um. Sorry. I think he was. He thought you were a bandit, so... Cér! Hey, come back!"

"I'm not going anywhere. Just... tell me once you finish playing."

True to his word, he set the mat beneath the shadow of the first tower this time. The girl with the tail had just stood up, adjusting the white bandana covering long, pointy ears on top of her head. She daintily wiped her bleeding nose with her fingers. Upon taking a long, deep breath, she said, "I wasn't aware you guys were together."

Akiha and Snail exchanged glances.

"I saw him sneak in the shadows and thought... well, in any case, I'm glad no harm came to pass."

"Your..." Akiha tapped the corner of his mouth.

The newcomer wiped the blood with her other hand. "I'm here to answer your call, seeker of heroes."

"Oh!"

"Rejoice, for Mish, Princess of the Wandering Sands has come to your aid!"

"Oh."

Mish's following performance with her daggers was beautiful, with the way she twirled them, juggling and catching the blade with her middle and pointer fingers, but Akiha didn't seem that enthused for some reason. "Are you from that troupe?" He asked. "I told you guys already, it's not a play..."

"No, no, though I used to be part of one. I'm a warrior. A bounty hunter. Very famous around these parts."

"Truly."

Snail bit back the grin. She knew Cérise had heard this, but he ignored her when she attempted eye contact. On top of being an artist and a warrior, Mish was very pretty. Her makeup. Her clothes. Her hair was cropped short like Snail's, but it had grace to it, auburn curls falling to the nape of her neck, mirroring her slitted eyes. While not nearly as sun-kissed as Cérise, her skin was notally darker than Akiha, so she was probably a local. "Truly. Aside from the giant girl and her servant, who else will join us?"

Out of spite, Snail didn't correct this. "You three are the only ones as of now," informed Akiha. "It's still early, so it shouldn't take long for more heroes to show up..." He sounded like he was talking to himself. "Mish, do you need to sit down?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

"...right, of course."

Three hours later, a bounty hunter appeared, looking for bandits. After the ensuing disappointment, he left. There were no other visitors.