The boy with the yellow scarf

Chapter 24: Who are these people and why are they trying to kill me?

Jesper

I spent a lot of the war wondering: Who are all these people? Why did so many people come out to this? Why do they all want to kill me specifically? I realize you want to shoot people who are on the other team, but why do you want to shoot boys who kiss other boys? Not very clear.

Did they know why they were fighting? Mostly no. Not on either side. And again, why did they want to kill me specifically? Why were they so invested in something that didn't truly make sense? Why do you trust someone who speaks your language and is remarkably lacking your uniform and customs?

Again, why is the boy kissing another boy inherently more suspicious than every single rifle one particular fellow has touched suspiciously malfunctioning? Why are tanks not so well guarded? Why are tanks so hard to drive? Why are we all fighting to begin with when we all like cheese and hate boys who kiss other boys? Also, why are we all participating in this?

Just general thoughts like that. Honestly, after the war was over. I was truly ready to be done with the 'everyone is trying to kill me everything hurts and very handsome men are being naked around me and expecting me to function' aspect of my life. I thought I had truly moved on.

But no. Apparently not.

Anyway I'll back up a little. To the bit before everyone was trying to kill me. Again. And people were shouting at me over things that are only marginally my fault. Again.

"This is the place?" Sunna confirms.

"Yeah, the lady said to come to a party at this address. She'd be there. I really don't like showing up empty handed don't you have anything old we can give her?" I ask.

"No," Val says.

"No, all the artifacts we have are useful," Sunna says.

"What about Val?" I point at him very innocently.

"Nobody likes me," Val says.

"Now, it was funny and you made it sad," I say.

"I'm separating you too," interestingly enough in our quest to annoy one another, Val and I have annoyed her more than anyone and have subsequently bonded with each other. Well, I think we bonded. The thing is his face is too pretty to stay mad at for long.

"Go ahead inside. I'll wait out here," Val says, looking up at the sky.

"We need to find out why she commissioned you to steal the helm," Sunna says, guiding me towards the doors. She links her arm with mine. She's wearing a pretty green dress for the occasion. It's not real though. Val did something to adjust all of our clothes then mumbled incomprehensible words when I tried to get him to explain how. He looks very stuffy and boring for someone who can apparently cast illusions to look however he wants.

"Fine, if he can make magic things though why can't he make money?" I ask, as we walk inside. We're at a mansion on the North end of London. All the fancy, rich people pouring in in their stiff good clothes. Alcohol is already flowing. There's a live band. It's a good party.

"It's just illusions. And he can't do them for long. He hates doing magic," she says.

"Why?"

"There's not the same honor in that as being an—" says incomprehensible word.

"But there would be wealth in it," I say.

"He doesn't want that, he wants honor," she says.

"Well he should have it by default if he doesn't use magic to make money," I point out, as we walk in. A few people stare at us. I rub my face. It's still bleeding a little from having my mouth sewn shut.