Brash

And yet, it healed.

For that was its purpose, as it had once been his own.

+ he had forsworn.

The words were muttered in shame, his faith tarnished, but his palm began to glow all the same. The magic writhed and fought back, like a recently caught fish. It didn’t want to be used by him. He had forsaken those vows, those prayers. +

+ Brash stepped forward, looking at the bloody mess that presumably had been a knight before someone practically turned their insides out. He didn’t say a word, stepping forward and raising a hand to the space between the other healers.

It was a struggle to remember the prayers, words to a god +

+ his soul, surge. It demanded blood and, if they had hurt Gil, he would fulfill those wishes…

But then he saw Gil, standing there, safe, doing what they did best, being a hero for those in need. He lowered the blades, sound returning as his heartbeat faded into the background.

They were safe. +

+ had someone too young to even be considered a threat at the moment. Brash, with a flash of his blade as warning, shoved past the kid, barreling into the room.

A group of strangers, someone bleeding on the table. The ideas that leapt through his mind made the void, the thing he had once called +

+ The goblin barely paid a mind to anyone else in the bar, pulling his hood up and moving with heavy yet graceful steps.

The commotion… it had started to settle in the inn, but his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears he might as well have been dead.

The blood trail ended at a room, one that +

Brash burst through the door, eyes on the trail of blood. Gil was nowhere to be seen and that dark void inside his soul began to expand. Had he lost them again? What had happened?

His daggers were in his hands before he had even registered, the worn leather like holding the hand of a friend. +

In every moment I think of you.

+ step away from this display of affection. “Thank you for keeping Gil safe,” he whispered into the feathers, the familiar stench of the beast bringing back memories from a different lifetime, of the man that had died in that hell.

“I’ve missed you.”

+ lets out a few argumentative clicks as Brash ushers him in, earn a growled shushing from the goblin.

But, once he was sure there were no prying eyes, he leaned forward, short arms clinging to the bird tightly in the first hug he’d had in a long time.

Apollo shifted in spot, taking a small

The griffon falls obediently… or as obediently as Apollo could manage. It doesn’t take long to find the stables and, with only a small bit of disgust from the stablemaster, he’s able to pay for the stall.

The stall is small especially given the price, but Apollo isn’t just another horse. The bird +

+ And his absence had left scars, some physical, on them too.

“When we get there, you go get your room. I’ll get the bird situated at the stable, yeah?”

Brash simply grunts in response to Gil’s lesson. They always were smarter than him. Always ready to learn and teach about the world around them.

The goblin sighed, fighting the urge to press his forehead against the beast’s side. He had missed them both, more than his heart could even remember. +

“Nah, you could handle yourself. Which just means the bigger stuff would find you.” He sighed, claws outlining what felt like a scar hidden beneath the feathers.

“Little fish come for easy food. But you get something strong, capable of fighting back? That’s when the sharks come out.”

Instinctively, a clawed hand reaches up and runs through the feathers. They’re soft, and Brash’s guts are lead. This wasn’t getting easier.

“You’d be surprised. That place is dangerous. I try to scare off the new or stupid adventurers looking to get themselves killed.”

+ had nothing to do with his skin. The lack of self preservation made it very easy to do what you had to do.

“Only on people I c—.” He caught himself. Care. He couldn’t care about Gil. Not anymore.

“- Catch wandering around like a blind kid in a hedge maze.” He scoffed, moving to match their pace. “I can sleep anywhere. Thick skin and such.” That wasn’t entirely untrue. He could sleep anywhere, but it +

+ would let them enjoy the show.

“How long has it been since you actually got some proper sleep? You just sleep in the woods and wait for your sign?”

“Yo-ho,” he hummed to himself, following Gil through the street. Gravel crunched under calloused feet and the occasional pair of eyes locked onto him. He pulled his hood tighter, letting out a grunt before hocking some spit on the street.

They wanted to stare, let them. But that didn’t mean he +

+ been living in the woods for years.

“We’ll need to find a stable to keep the damn bird.”

“The Boastful Boar is the cheapest… though you have to be okay with some bugs. The Kindly Kraken is nicest, but bit more costly.”

He’d sleep on the roof of wherever Gil picked. Most places weren’t too keen on letting goblins in, especially when they looked (and probably smelled) like they had +

+ bastards had he murdered here? How much gold had he pocketed with bloodstained hands?

“Where should we start? Cliche and go for the inn?”

He’d scoff, looking at their hand for a moment before, with a huff of agreement, taking it and hopping down. Brady landed with a thud, gear clinking and clanking against his leather armor.

Clawed toes flexed into the dirt, shoulders rolling as he looked over the town before them. How many +

“No!” He said, a bit too quickly, a bit too panicked. The first true break in the mask he wore.

Form shifting magic it… flashes of the hell he had escaped from, losing everything; his faith, his hope, his face. “No illusion magic, not on me. You do, you’re on your own. Got it?”

+ done some not so legal work in the town… getting caught by the guards was one thing. Gil getting arrested? Out of the question.

This felt like the point he was supposed to open up, confess why he was the way he was…

That’s how it would’ve happened in the stories. But this wasn’t a story and he wasn’t some misunderstood hero. So, he stayed silent.

“If I get recognized when we’re there, you don’t know me, got it?” He had +

Brash falls silent. He knows better than to push the issues any further. He recognizes that tone and he hates that he brought it out of them.

“When we get to the city, you do the talkin’. I ain’t good with people no more.”

Brash went silent, glowering behind Gil. “You keep letting him get away with that shit, and you’ll never be able to properly ride him.

He should obey you, not bully you.”

+ the truth… or break Brash’s heart. One would happen sooner or later if he didn’t steel his heart the griffon.

“You damn stupid, bird! I ain’t your rider!” He snapped, probably too harshly for the mostly harmless act. Ignoring the space he was given, he took Gil’s hand and climbed up behind her.

He couldn’t encourage the behavior or it was going to become a problem quickly. It was either going to reveal +