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"For me to explain what I do for a living, you need to understand that I am not the master of my life."

San sat in silence, slightly hunched over her drink, and then opened her mouth and said, "This better no' be some philosophical bullshit cos I din't drag ya out here fer tha'."

"No. I'm not messing with you." The paladin sighed, though that was barely audible over the sudden raucous laughter from opposite corner of the dimly lit tavern. "Do you think I run around in ill-fitting armour every day because I like it? I don't even like this tavern, but since you brought me here...well, you think I fit in here, do I?"

"Dude, nah." San pulled her legs up and crossed them on her chair. "People won't stare at ya here. No one's gonna give ya looks. Here, everyone's equal. Bad guy tavern? More like equal opportunity tavern. Now, yuh gonna talk or no'? I might as well jus' change my mind an', yunno, turn ya in."

"But you're not going to do that," he said, fixing his gaze on her. "Because you want to know."

The sura held his gaze for a moment, and then gave an amused, unladylike snort of mirth. "Ya got me there. Tell me."

***

"Let me finish, Jin." The sura tightened the straps of her gauntlet, flexing her fingers. "Listen. He out in the city runnin' around free again, that don't bother you?"

"As far as I'm concerned, San, we already did it once, I'm not cleaning out the city again." Jin set his cup of tea down on the table. "I'm no vigilante, and I don't wish to be. Why does he concern you so much?"

"The las' time we went after 'im he said that he weren't at fault," said San, thumping her fist against her palm as she made sure the gauntlets fit. "He weren't runnin' around cos he liked it. Now he runnin' again. Wha's the big deal? I'm curious and I wanna know."

Jin shook his head slightly and gestured in San's general direction, though his eyes continued to look past her shoulder at the wall opposite him. "I should be asking you that question. What's the big deal? Let the Chivalry deal with it. I'm sure the Order has sent out numerous warrants for him already, and it's the knights' job to deal with this kind of thing. Not the civilians."

"Jin." San rolled her shoulders back a couple of times to loosen up her joints. "I like ya, but if I'm livin' here I think I got a right to know wha's goin' on around in this city. Maybe it's no' how you do it, but you know me."

Her companion shook his head again, though it was more of resignation. "Yes, I know you, San. All too well."

***

"I'll get straight to the point. No need to keep you hanging around for longer than you want." The paladin pulled up one slipping pauldron. "Also for old time's sake, just call me St--"

"Stijan." San nodded at the paladin's stunned expression as if it were something she'd seen every day of her life. "Ye. You think I don' remember? It's bin over a year, bu' I ain't so much of an uncaring fool abou' the people I meet."

"You're one of the few, then. But look, just stick to Steve. Make it simpler." He leaned back. "Remember that whole story about deserting? That was true."

"Did you serve time fer it?" San scratched her head. "I don' remember that part."

The paladin snorted. "Yeah, well, you don't have the Schwarzvald news delivered to your doorstep, do you? I did. For all the gold and glitter the Order is, their dungeons don't match up. But that's not why I'm here. That's all due to the Chivalry.

"While I was serving my time, some bright spark decided I was of some use. I don't know what happened next, but from the bits of information I picked up along the way some people decided that I would make a great fall guy for whatever nefarious plans they'd concocted up while I was still getting chased around for desertion."

"Wait, hold up right there yo." San held up a hand like a child in school with a question to ask. "Wha' plans are these, and who doin' them? That ain't cool, man."

Steve's laugh was mirthless. "Oh, you have no idea the level of dark politics that goes on behind the scenes. Heard of the Rune-Midgard Expedition Forces? They've got an entire covert branch of political manipulators who play with people the same way puppeteers entertain their audience."

"Yeaaaah, I'll believe it when I see it." San wasn't about to give away that she knew about it, let alone having met at least three individuals from there. "Tha's jus' some ancient gov'ment conspiracy people say when they kinda jus' want some excuse. But tha's no' yer point, is it? It better no' be."

"Alright, but it does go with what I'm telling you. One of their agents contacted me about the matter. Seems that according to their intel, Prontera nobles are in on the scheme. They want the Schwarzvald-Rune-Midgard conflict to keep going. Brings them profit, I hear."

San raised an eyebrow. "So why's the knights doin' nothing? Ain't this their business?"

Steve gave her a look as if to say 'really?'. "Corruption's always been strong in the Chivalry, for as long as I've known," he said. "Not that the Order is perfect, but you'd expect a bit better from the law enforcement of Prontera."

***

The last time Jin had gone to find information, he'd descended into the Culverts for advice from the rogues. San was a little less roundabout. She hung out in all the taverns in search for a good drink and a brawl challenge once in a while. It didn't take her much effort to make friends, especially when she was the one standing over them having knocked a couple of their teeth out despite having had a few drinks.

Friends in unlikely places, too. Her part-time summer job as a dock worker in Alberta gave her quite a few insights into the darker corners of trading and politics within Prontera. News of Steve's return got to her that way, and though she hated the idea of what the Runebirds did, she conceded they had a point. Sometimes it was better to do things you couldn't forgive yourself for, to make the world a better place.

The rumours were strong, dirty as ever, harsh. San didn't claim to know him thoroughly well, but their last encounter had left her feeling that he was more than he seemed. He was always more than he seemed, somehow. The warrants made him out to be a dirty, violent criminal with an unappealing appearance meant to be dead on sight, and even she felt it was a little unfair.

But no calling judgements, not until she knew the full story.

***

"There's no two ways about this. I've pissed off Prontera. You two made Schwarzvald actually look competent, and because of that I have my life. That I thank you for." Steve took a swig from the mug in front of him, and then coughed. "Wow, this tastes like peco piss."

"If ya don' want it I can take it back," San offered.

"I didn't say I didn't like it." Steve took another swig. "Nice to know Prontera still serves swill guaranteed to grow hairs on your eyeballs. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Schwarzvald being competent. So what's this latest scheme then? Are you interested, or are you going to dismiss it like you did with the RMEF?"

"Fer the sake of this conversation lessay I believe ya," San said dryly. "Just ge' on wif it."

"Alright. It's no secret that Prontera's nobility's been playing games for centuries. There's always a court game going on, and to them the lower classes are expendable. I know families who focus on not being in these games, but they're few and far in between. And this one, well, I won't say the name, not here, but they have a vested interest in certain goods shipped in from the New World from a band of smugglers who've decided that making profit off of those...nightmare monsters from out there is a good idea."

"Mmyep, even'chly somethin' is gonna be a good idea to someone somewhere." San nodded. "Go on."

"They have stock and shares in that business. And since there's a criminal in the iron deeps of the Order who's met these beasts and survived, why not let him out? Pay his way out. The Chivalry comes in, tells the Order that Prontera wants this criminal. All quiet like, Schwarzvald won't know and their squeaky clean reputation is maintained. Hand me over to the nobles, let them have their way." Steve looked deeply troubled as he spoke. San opened her mouth, thought better of what she was going to say and closed her mouth.

"They made a deal. Be the knowledge. Be the front. Wow, am I dumb. But if I weren't dumb, I wouldn't have been in this predicament in the first place, you know? I wouldn't have ran, I would have solved the problem without deserting." Steve sighed. "Looking back it seems so obvious now, but at the time... but you're not here to listen to me angst about that.

"Did I know they were going to sell me out? I had a hunch, but the pay was good. And it was worth it - all three months of it. Then I had people coming after me, hunting me down. The RMEF got involved! They sent out their best political assassin to keep an eye out on me for a while."

"If 'e's the best, howdja know it was him?" San asked suspiciously. She had a sneaking thought that she knew who he was talking about, but again it was just a hunch. No confirmation.

"They told me. Wait, let me get to that part first." Steve looked at San's raised eyebrow. "I know, crazy, right? Who knew there was this web of lies in the Kingdom?"

San said nothing. She knew.

***

Tracking him down was less of a problem than it had been before, it was only a matter of visiting the Crooked Crowbar and drinking the informant under the table before dragging him out into a dark alleyway and threatening him. San liked being straightforward.

The actual dance, however...

She was sitting outside the Crooked Crowbar with a pint of beer in one hand. Prontera's drinks had never really wowed her over, but this beer was said to be the Crowbar's very own special brew and they weren't kidding. She was more impressed that it was actually legal to make rather than the actual drink itself. And no, she wasn't drinking it - as much as she loved hard alcohol, she valued the insides of her stomach a bit more than that.

Afternoon. A hooded merchant guided a wagon of covered goods with two pecos pulling it, standing out among the crowd on the street due to the height of the birds. San waited until they were about to pass her by, ducked and gently poured the beer into the cracks of the cobblestones. The yellow froth ran along the tight lines and within minutes the stone was dissolving as whatever ingredients that made up the Crowbar's specialty beer etched its way into the street. A few cobblestones visibly sank a few inches further into the already uneven street.

The wagon's wheels dropped into the uneven gap; the jolt sent boxes tumbling off the back. As people yelled in protest about getting hit with boxes, the hooded merchant swore and scrambled to pick the boxes up. He was too late to stop San from picking one up, however. As she straightened up she caught the familiar eye of a paladin with ill-fitting armour following closely behind the wagon.

He must have recognised her without a doubt, because he turned tail and ran. San handed the box back to the merchant and said, "Runebirds watchin' ya, mate." It was satisfying to see him run back to his wagon and crack the whip on the birds. No stop for the Crowbar this time.

San ducked into the Crowbar and left through the back door. She squeezed through a couple of narrow alleyways, leapt onto the roof of a low house and jumped a gap to another, before dropping down quietly into a street and assuming a casual leaning pose against the wall opposite. Anyone passing the street could see her lounging, and it so turned out that the one person whom she wanted to pass her by did pass by and see her.

As his cloak whipped around a corner, barely following him, San took a deep breath. Five glowing spheres appeared floating around her in a ring; one immediately vanished as she disappeared on the spot, appearing roughly five miles down the street. Rinse, repeat, until she was out of spirit spheres, and by then she was at a little dark hangout called the White Snake. No one knew it was called that unless you went there looking for illegal deals or drinks.

He was there, inside, when she peered in. San ducked and entered just to hear him tell the frontman, "Yeah, I'm being followed, let me lie low here til they're gone."

"As long as you don't mess things up like last time." The frontman looked up at San and grinned, or at least bared his yellow teeth. "What can I do for you, miss?"

Steve backed into the wall, his ironclad foot stepping, and then smashing with a porcelain crunch, a small vat of whatever the White Snake called its own brew. Then he fled, pursued by the frontman shouting, "That's the last time I let you in here! Don't ever come back again, or I'll have you presented to the knights in a vat!" San felt a little bad for doing that, but that was the plan.

She slipped out while the frontman was grumbling over the mess and headed normally down to a Louyang-styled tavern. It was a cheap knockoff and if Jin knew it existed he would have profoundly expressed his disgust, being Louyang himself, but she never told him for his sake. There she sat down and got herself a drink, and asked for another. "You get a Steve here, tell 'im 'e's got a table."

And he did. Steve entered the tavern not a few minutes later, panting and visibly winded. San lounged with her feet up on the table, her eyes following his path as he met with the host, and then his eyes wandered over to where the host pointed towards her.

There was silence. Then Steve strode over to her and shoved his face almost into hers. "What are you following me for?!" he snarled. "Didn't we already settle the score the last time?"

"This a new score though, right?" San said cheerfully. "An' before ya think abou' runnin' again, I'll tell ya a sura can teleport. I jus' wanna talk wif ya."

Steve eyed her and the furred golden knuckles sitting snugly in her hands. At length he withdrew. "You're not going to use those on me? If you start a brawl here--"

"If I did, ya'd run," said San, "because the knights would be on this place faster 'an flies to honey. An' trus' me, I'll get away wif it."

More glaring. Then Steve finally said, in the most resigned tone she'd ever heard, "Well played. You have my attention."

***

"How did you know I was around, anyway?" he asked. "And your little tricks with knowing where to go..."

"I like explorin', an' drinkin'." And met a lithe man she'd met a few months back could laugh at her jokes and gently fawn over a beautiful crystal and then plunge a knife up someone's ribcage elbow-deep. Someone who taught her how to pysch people who knew a reputation when they saw it. "An' I get around wif the drinkin'. It don' take much effort. So, Steve...after this, where ya gonna go? Seems like yer back inna tight corner."

The paladin sighed. "I can't leave this whole mess yet. One of the RMEF agents came to me. Long story short, I'm stuck in the loop. Get caught, get released, do a job, get caught for it, get released..."

"Wha'? Tha' don' make any sense," San made a face. "Whassup wif them? Why they want ya to keep goin'?"

"So you believe me?" A flicker of glee passed over Steve's face. San wished she hadn't made a promise to not punch people, but after some internal grumbling she settled for, "I'm assumin' fer now wha' yer sayin's true. I din't say I believe ya. So, any reasons fer the whole arrangement?"

"Said it keeps Schwarzvald and Prontera too busy arguing with each other to actually start a war. There are other issues," Steve added when San's expression changed, "but this is one of the minor situations where it has a larger impact than it really looks like it does. I don't know what the politics is, but I'm glad I'm not involved."

There was a pause. The paladin looked at San. "What? You look like you want to say something. Say it."

"Don' it bother ya tha' ya got no say in this thing?" San asked. "Ya jus' bein' a pawn in this whole game tha' people make up so's they can spend their free time doin' somethin'?"

"Well...what else is there to do?" Steve asked, shrugging. San opened her mouth and stopped short. He had a point. Out in the New World, that entire game that was designed to weed out an almost-cult organisation no one knew existed except for in the smallest ways...none of them could do nothing about it. Not even the political assassin.

"Alright, ya done?" she asked. "Wif the drink, I meant. An' the story. Thanks fer entertainin' me."

Steve gave her a look. "Are you going to have me put back in irons again?"

"I dunno, whateva ya want, dude." San shrugged. "If I were ya I'd get myself back in an' find ways to disrupt the whatsits, status quo. I mean, yer gonna be stuck in a loop wif no real conclusion, gettin' caught by a myriad of randoms who have no idea abou' all o' this? Why no' have fun wif it? Well, a bi' o' fun...don' go pissin' off yer gov'ment conspiracy right abou' now."

Steve pondered this statement for a while, and then looked up at her and asked, "Do I have a choice?"

---

The young man was waiting for her at the gates of Jin's house. He turned around as she approached. San hated that he could always hear her coming from a mile off no matter how quiet she was, or even if she teleported. His hearing was that acute.

"Jin won't let me in," he said, with an almost childish pout. That was the thing about him. He seemed so simple, and then she'd watched him slit the throat of a keystone in a political game without hesitation. "I thought we'd patch things up."

"Yeah, well, when he got grudge, he got grudge. He'll get over it," said San dismissively. "Look, yeah, I spoke wif him. Ya got any way out fer the poor fellow? There'll be people chasin' him down fer the res' o' his life."

"I'm not that high up in the Runebird chain, San," November pointed out. "I mean, I can convey what you said to Septimus, but I doubt there's little that we can do. When the Runebirds feel it's necessary, it's necessary."

"An' ya know how much I hate tha'."

"I didn't say I like it either," said the minstrel, flinching slightly in San's glare. "What did he do after he finished talking with you?"

"'E turned himself in. Good choice." San gave November a pointed look. "Make sure you sneaky bastards deal wif tha' good and proper, yeah? He looks like he's had enough."

"Don't ask me. But I'll tell the higher ups." November nodded. "Good day to you, San."

She turned away to knock on the gate. When she looked back, he was gone. Typical. As Jin let her in, San could only shake her head and hope for the end of the cycle for Steve.

Description
"For me to explain what I do for a living, you need to understand that I am not the master of my life."

San sat in silence, slightly hunched over her drink, and then opened her mouth and said, "This better no' be some philosophical bullshit cos I din't drag ya out here fer tha'."

"No. I'm not messing with you." The paladin sighed, though that was barely audible over the sudden raucous laughter from opposite corner of the dimly lit tavern. "Do you think I run around in ill-fitting armour every day because I like it? I don't even like this tavern, but since you brought me here...well, you think I fit in here, do I?"

"Dude, nah." San pulled her legs up and crossed them on her chair. "People won't stare at ya here. No one's gonna give ya looks. Here, everyone's equal. Bad guy tavern? More like equal opportunity tavern. Now, yuh gonna talk or no'? I might as well jus' change my mind an', yunno, turn ya in."

"But you're not going to do that," he said, fixing his gaze on her. "Because you want to know."

The sura held his gaze for a moment, and then gave an amused, unladylike snort of mirth. "Ya got me there. Tell me."

***

"Let me finish, Jin." The sura tightened the straps of her gauntlet, flexing her fingers. "Listen. He out in the city runnin' around free again, that don't bother you?"

"As far as I'm concerned, San, we already did it once, I'm not cleaning out the city again." Jin set his cup of tea down on the table. "I'm no vigilante, and I don't wish to be. Why does he concern you so much?"

"The las' time we went after 'im he said that he weren't at fault," said San, thumping her fist against her palm as she made sure the gauntlets fit. "He weren't runnin' around cos he liked it. Now he runnin' again. Wha's the big deal? I'm curious and I wanna know."

Jin shook his head slightly and gestured in San's general direction, though his eyes continued to look past her shoulder at the wall opposite him. "I should be asking you that question. What's the big deal? Let the Chivalry deal with it. I'm sure the Order has sent out numerous warrants for him already, and it's the knights' job to deal with this kind of thing. Not the civilians."

"Jin." San rolled her shoulders back a couple of times to loosen up her joints. "I like ya, but if I'm livin' here I think I got a right to know wha's goin' on around in this city. Maybe it's no' how you do it, but you know me."

Her companion shook his head again, though it was more of resignation. "Yes, I know you, San. All too well."

***

"I'll get straight to the point. No need to keep you hanging around for longer than you want." The paladin pulled up one slipping pauldron. "Also for old time's sake, just call me St--"

"Stijan." San nodded at the paladin's stunned expression as if it were something she'd seen every day of her life. "Ye. You think I don' remember? It's bin over a year, bu' I ain't so much of an uncaring fool abou' the people I meet."

"You're one of the few, then. But look, just stick to Steve. Make it simpler." He leaned back. "Remember that whole story about deserting? That was true."

"Did you serve time fer it?" San scratched her head. "I don' remember that part."

The paladin snorted. "Yeah, well, you don't have the Schwarzvald news delivered to your doorstep, do you? I did. For all the gold and glitter the Order is, their dungeons don't match up. But that's not why I'm here. That's all due to the Chivalry.

"While I was serving my time, some bright spark decided I was of some use. I don't know what happened next, but from the bits of information I picked up along the way some people decided that I would make a great fall guy for whatever nefarious plans they'd concocted up while I was still getting chased around for desertion."

"Wait, hold up right there yo." San held up a hand like a child in school with a question to ask. "Wha' plans are these, and who doin' them? That ain't cool, man."

Steve's laugh was mirthless. "Oh, you have no idea the level of dark politics that goes on behind the scenes. Heard of the Rune-Midgard Expedition Forces? They've got an entire covert branch of political manipulators who play with people the same way puppeteers entertain their audience."

"Yeaaaah, I'll believe it when I see it." San wasn't about to give away that she knew about it, let alone having met at least three individuals from there. "Tha's jus' some ancient gov'ment conspiracy people say when they kinda jus' want some excuse. But tha's no' yer point, is it? It better no' be."

"Alright, but it does go with what I'm telling you. One of their agents contacted me about the matter. Seems that according to their intel, Prontera nobles are in on the scheme. They want the Schwarzvald-Rune-Midgard conflict to keep going. Brings them profit, I hear."

San raised an eyebrow. "So why's the knights doin' nothing? Ain't this their business?"

Steve gave her a look as if to say 'really?'. "Corruption's always been strong in the Chivalry, for as long as I've known," he said. "Not that the Order is perfect, but you'd expect a bit better from the law enforcement of Prontera."

***

The last time Jin had gone to find information, he'd descended into the Culverts for advice from the rogues. San was a little less roundabout. She hung out in all the taverns in search for a good drink and a brawl challenge once in a while. It didn't take her much effort to make friends, especially when she was the one standing over them having knocked a couple of their teeth out despite having had a few drinks.

Friends in unlikely places, too. Her part-time summer job as a dock worker in Alberta gave her quite a few insights into the darker corners of trading and politics within Prontera. News of Steve's return got to her that way, and though she hated the idea of what the Runebirds did, she conceded they had a point. Sometimes it was better to do things you couldn't forgive yourself for, to make the world a better place.

The rumours were strong, dirty as ever, harsh. San didn't claim to know him thoroughly well, but their last encounter had left her feeling that he was more than he seemed. He was always more than he seemed, somehow. The warrants made him out to be a dirty, violent criminal with an unappealing appearance meant to be dead on sight, and even she felt it was a little unfair.

But no calling judgements, not until she knew the full story.

***

"There's no two ways about this. I've pissed off Prontera. You two made Schwarzvald actually look competent, and because of that I have my life. That I thank you for." Steve took a swig from the mug in front of him, and then coughed. "Wow, this tastes like peco piss."

"If ya don' want it I can take it back," San offered.

"I didn't say I didn't like it." Steve took another swig. "Nice to know Prontera still serves swill guaranteed to grow hairs on your eyeballs. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Schwarzvald being competent. So what's this latest scheme then? Are you interested, or are you going to dismiss it like you did with the RMEF?"

"Fer the sake of this conversation lessay I believe ya," San said dryly. "Just ge' on wif it."

"Alright. It's no secret that Prontera's nobility's been playing games for centuries. There's always a court game going on, and to them the lower classes are expendable. I know families who focus on not being in these games, but they're few and far in between. And this one, well, I won't say the name, not here, but they have a vested interest in certain goods shipped in from the New World from a band of smugglers who've decided that making profit off of those...nightmare monsters from out there is a good idea."

"Mmyep, even'chly somethin' is gonna be a good idea to someone somewhere." San nodded. "Go on."

"They have stock and shares in that business. And since there's a criminal in the iron deeps of the Order who's met these beasts and survived, why not let him out? Pay his way out. The Chivalry comes in, tells the Order that Prontera wants this criminal. All quiet like, Schwarzvald won't know and their squeaky clean reputation is maintained. Hand me over to the nobles, let them have their way." Steve looked deeply troubled as he spoke. San opened her mouth, thought better of what she was going to say and closed her mouth.

"They made a deal. Be the knowledge. Be the front. Wow, am I dumb. But if I weren't dumb, I wouldn't have been in this predicament in the first place, you know? I wouldn't have ran, I would have solved the problem without deserting." Steve sighed. "Looking back it seems so obvious now, but at the time... but you're not here to listen to me angst about that.

"Did I know they were going to sell me out? I had a hunch, but the pay was good. And it was worth it - all three months of it. Then I had people coming after me, hunting me down. The RMEF got involved! They sent out their best political assassin to keep an eye out on me for a while."

"If 'e's the best, howdja know it was him?" San asked suspiciously. She had a sneaking thought that she knew who he was talking about, but again it was just a hunch. No confirmation.

"They told me. Wait, let me get to that part first." Steve looked at San's raised eyebrow. "I know, crazy, right? Who knew there was this web of lies in the Kingdom?"

San said nothing. She knew.

***

Tracking him down was less of a problem than it had been before, it was only a matter of visiting the Crooked Crowbar and drinking the informant under the table before dragging him out into a dark alleyway and threatening him. San liked being straightforward.

The actual dance, however...

She was sitting outside the Crooked Crowbar with a pint of beer in one hand. Prontera's drinks had never really wowed her over, but this beer was said to be the Crowbar's very own special brew and they weren't kidding. She was more impressed that it was actually legal to make rather than the actual drink itself. And no, she wasn't drinking it - as much as she loved hard alcohol, she valued the insides of her stomach a bit more than that.

Afternoon. A hooded merchant guided a wagon of covered goods with two pecos pulling it, standing out among the crowd on the street due to the height of the birds. San waited until they were about to pass her by, ducked and gently poured the beer into the cracks of the cobblestones. The yellow froth ran along the tight lines and within minutes the stone was dissolving as whatever ingredients that made up the Crowbar's specialty beer etched its way into the street. A few cobblestones visibly sank a few inches further into the already uneven street.

The wagon's wheels dropped into the uneven gap; the jolt sent boxes tumbling off the back. As people yelled in protest about getting hit with boxes, the hooded merchant swore and scrambled to pick the boxes up. He was too late to stop San from picking one up, however. As she straightened up she caught the familiar eye of a paladin with ill-fitting armour following closely behind the wagon.

He must have recognised her without a doubt, because he turned tail and ran. San handed the box back to the merchant and said, "Runebirds watchin' ya, mate." It was satisfying to see him run back to his wagon and crack the whip on the birds. No stop for the Crowbar this time.

San ducked into the Crowbar and left through the back door. She squeezed through a couple of narrow alleyways, leapt onto the roof of a low house and jumped a gap to another, before dropping down quietly into a street and assuming a casual leaning pose against the wall opposite. Anyone passing the street could see her lounging, and it so turned out that the one person whom she wanted to pass her by did pass by and see her.

As his cloak whipped around a corner, barely following him, San took a deep breath. Five glowing spheres appeared floating around her in a ring; one immediately vanished as she disappeared on the spot, appearing roughly five miles down the street. Rinse, repeat, until she was out of spirit spheres, and by then she was at a little dark hangout called the White Snake. No one knew it was called that unless you went there looking for illegal deals or drinks.

He was there, inside, when she peered in. San ducked and entered just to hear him tell the frontman, "Yeah, I'm being followed, let me lie low here til they're gone."

"As long as you don't mess things up like last time." The frontman looked up at San and grinned, or at least bared his yellow teeth. "What can I do for you, miss?"

Steve backed into the wall, his ironclad foot stepping, and then smashing with a porcelain crunch, a small vat of whatever the White Snake called its own brew. Then he fled, pursued by the frontman shouting, "That's the last time I let you in here! Don't ever come back again, or I'll have you presented to the knights in a vat!" San felt a little bad for doing that, but that was the plan.

She slipped out while the frontman was grumbling over the mess and headed normally down to a Louyang-styled tavern. It was a cheap knockoff and if Jin knew it existed he would have profoundly expressed his disgust, being Louyang himself, but she never told him for his sake. There she sat down and got herself a drink, and asked for another. "You get a Steve here, tell 'im 'e's got a table."

And he did. Steve entered the tavern not a few minutes later, panting and visibly winded. San lounged with her feet up on the table, her eyes following his path as he met with the host, and then his eyes wandered over to where the host pointed towards her.

There was silence. Then Steve strode over to her and shoved his face almost into hers. "What are you following me for?!" he snarled. "Didn't we already settle the score the last time?"

"This a new score though, right?" San said cheerfully. "An' before ya think abou' runnin' again, I'll tell ya a sura can teleport. I jus' wanna talk wif ya."

Steve eyed her and the furred golden knuckles sitting snugly in her hands. At length he withdrew. "You're not going to use those on me? If you start a brawl here--"

"If I did, ya'd run," said San, "because the knights would be on this place faster 'an flies to honey. An' trus' me, I'll get away wif it."

More glaring. Then Steve finally said, in the most resigned tone she'd ever heard, "Well played. You have my attention."

***

"How did you know I was around, anyway?" he asked. "And your little tricks with knowing where to go..."

"I like explorin', an' drinkin'." And met a lithe man she'd met a few months back could laugh at her jokes and gently fawn over a beautiful crystal and then plunge a knife up someone's ribcage elbow-deep. Someone who taught her how to pysch people who knew a reputation when they saw it. "An' I get around wif the drinkin'. It don' take much effort. So, Steve...after this, where ya gonna go? Seems like yer back inna tight corner."

The paladin sighed. "I can't leave this whole mess yet. One of the RMEF agents came to me. Long story short, I'm stuck in the loop. Get caught, get released, do a job, get caught for it, get released..."

"Wha'? Tha' don' make any sense," San made a face. "Whassup wif them? Why they want ya to keep goin'?"

"So you believe me?" A flicker of glee passed over Steve's face. San wished she hadn't made a promise to not punch people, but after some internal grumbling she settled for, "I'm assumin' fer now wha' yer sayin's true. I din't say I believe ya. So, any reasons fer the whole arrangement?"

"Said it keeps Schwarzvald and Prontera too busy arguing with each other to actually start a war. There are other issues," Steve added when San's expression changed, "but this is one of the minor situations where it has a larger impact than it really looks like it does. I don't know what the politics is, but I'm glad I'm not involved."

There was a pause. The paladin looked at San. "What? You look like you want to say something. Say it."

"Don' it bother ya tha' ya got no say in this thing?" San asked. "Ya jus' bein' a pawn in this whole game tha' people make up so's they can spend their free time doin' somethin'?"

"Well...what else is there to do?" Steve asked, shrugging. San opened her mouth and stopped short. He had a point. Out in the New World, that entire game that was designed to weed out an almost-cult organisation no one knew existed except for in the smallest ways...none of them could do nothing about it. Not even the political assassin.

"Alright, ya done?" she asked. "Wif the drink, I meant. An' the story. Thanks fer entertainin' me."

Steve gave her a look. "Are you going to have me put back in irons again?"

"I dunno, whateva ya want, dude." San shrugged. "If I were ya I'd get myself back in an' find ways to disrupt the whatsits, status quo. I mean, yer gonna be stuck in a loop wif no real conclusion, gettin' caught by a myriad of randoms who have no idea abou' all o' this? Why no' have fun wif it? Well, a bi' o' fun...don' go pissin' off yer gov'ment conspiracy right abou' now."

Steve pondered this statement for a while, and then looked up at her and asked, "Do I have a choice?"

---

The young man was waiting for her at the gates of Jin's house. He turned around as she approached. San hated that he could always hear her coming from a mile off no matter how quiet she was, or even if she teleported. His hearing was that acute.

"Jin won't let me in," he said, with an almost childish pout. That was the thing about him. He seemed so simple, and then she'd watched him slit the throat of a keystone in a political game without hesitation. "I thought we'd patch things up."

"Yeah, well, when he got grudge, he got grudge. He'll get over it," said San dismissively. "Look, yeah, I spoke wif him. Ya got any way out fer the poor fellow? There'll be people chasin' him down fer the res' o' his life."

"I'm not that high up in the Runebird chain, San," November pointed out. "I mean, I can convey what you said to Septimus, but I doubt there's little that we can do. When the Runebirds feel it's necessary, it's necessary."

"An' ya know how much I hate tha'."

"I didn't say I like it either," said the minstrel, flinching slightly in San's glare. "What did he do after he finished talking with you?"

"'E turned himself in. Good choice." San gave November a pointed look. "Make sure you sneaky bastards deal wif tha' good and proper, yeah? He looks like he's had enough."

"Don't ask me. But I'll tell the higher ups." November nodded. "Good day to you, San."

She turned away to knock on the gate. When she looked back, he was gone. Typical. As Jin let her in, San could only shake her head and hope for the end of the cycle for Steve.