Not my circus, not my monkeys

Shaun strolled through the bustling market, hands in his pockets, expression a mask of casual indifference. The air reeked of fresh bread, sweat, and desperation—the usual blend. He was just about to slip into a quiet restaurant when he felt a sharp tug on his coat sleeve.

A child.

The boy, no older than seven, grinned up at him, his face smudged with flour. "Hey! You're the guy who let us stay with you when the town burned, right?" His voice was bright, oblivious. "Mom and Dad said to thank you! They sent a cookie." He thrust out a slightly crumbled, but still fragrant, treat.

Shaun stared at the kid for a second longer than necessary. His fingers closed around the cookie with practiced ease. "Oh? So you ran all the way here just to give this to me? How sweet. Really. Warms the heart." His tone was unreadable.

Shaun reached into his coat and flicked a couple of brightly colored candies into the kid's hands. "Since you're such a thoughtful little thing, take these."

"Candy? Really? Thanks, mister!" The kid's face lit up, and in an instant, he was gone—vanishing back into the crowd, his mission complete. Shaun exhaled through his nose, pocketing the cookie.

"Putting on a fake smile and acting like that sure is a tough job." His internal monologue was a stark contrast to his outward politeness.

"So people still remember that, huh?" His voice was barely above a murmur. "Strange. I thought gratitude had a shorter shelf life."

 "And I had thought everyone had forgotten about all that by now, after all who care once their job is done? It seems some still remember how to be grateful to someone for help, though it's all in the wrong. They are simply unaware I was the one to burn the town to begin with".

He pushed open the restaurant door, stepping inside. It was a modest place—dim lighting, wooden tables, the scent of roasted meat and old ale clinging to the walls. Perfectly unremarkable. And yet, despite the mundane setting, Shaun could feel it. A presence.

His eyes flicked across the room.

There.

Soren: "Right here, Shaun. You made me wait for quite a while."

The bastard was already seated, looking completely at ease. He waved casually, chewing his food like this was a friendly reunion.

"You took your time," Soren said, swallowing. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."

Shaun didn't return the smile. He slid into the chair across from him, his gaze sharp, unamused. "Since when have you been watching me?"

Soren didn't blink. He set his utensils down with deliberate calm. "Interesting first question. Not 'how did you find me?' or 'what do you want?' No, you jump straight to when I let my guard slip." A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. "That tells me you already figured out the how."

Shaun's fingers drummed once against the table. "It wasn't hard. There's no third party with the means to put this puzzle together. If anyone else had tried, I'd have already dealt with them. That leaves direct observation."

A folded letter slid across the table.

Soren took his time opening it. Inside, in crisp, deliberate handwriting, was the message:

"Meet me in the restaurant near the street market, second lane. I know about you, your lackey, and their actions. I know you orchestrated Count Heron's downfall, burned his town, and framed the Gafnar Knights. Looking forward to our discussion."

Shaun tilted his head slightly. "Not the most subtle of messages."

Soren chuckled. "What can I say? I was eager." He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "You intrigue me, Shaun. First, I see a monster in the forest—no, let's correct that—I see your monster. And then, I find you, the one who somehow made it human again. A boy with a dragon, several familiars, and an aura that shouldn't exist in this world. Oh, and let's not forget your magnificent piece of display back in Daraemore."

Shaun's expression didn't change. "Funny. I don't recall you being in Daraemore."

Shaun's eyes narrowed, his earlier ease vanishing like a snuffed-out flame, replaced by sharp, calculating scrutiny.

"Why the hell couldn't I sense you? It's like you don't even exist. I should've noticed if someone had been watching me—even back in the forest. Hell, even in town. I should've felt it. So tell me—how did you slip past me?"

"You wouldn't," Soren said smoothly. He lifted his glass of water, and suddenly—

His presence disappeared.

The sound of the restaurant became strangely distant. It was like staring at something, knowing it was there, yet every part of Shaun's senses told him otherwise. Even his aura detection—nothing.

Then, just as suddenly, Soren set the glass back down. His presence snapped back into place like a missing puzzle piece.

"Convenient, isn't it?" Soren mused. "An ability like this makes eavesdropping rather effortless."

Shaun's fingers tightened around his fork. He hated that. Hated the idea that someone had been that close, unseen.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice edged with something colder. "You don't seem like the type to chase someone down just to play voyeur."

Soren leaned back in his chair, exhaling. "Straight to business, then. Fine."

Then, casually, as if discussing the weather:

"I'm not from this world."

Shaun didn't react. Not outwardly.

Soren smirked. "I figured you might not be either. Call it a hunch."

Shaun finally spoke. "And?"

"And a while back, I was summoned by a neighboring kingdom. They needed a weapon for their war."

Shaun rolled his eyes. "Ah. And let me guess. Now you want me to fight their war with you? Pass."

Soren laughed, shaking his head. "Oh no. That war's over. I ended it in a day. Though the moment I won, the kingdom which summoned me turned its back on me"

Shaun blinked. "…so?"

Soren picked up a piece of bread, tearing it apart with casual ease. "I killed their king. The royal court. The generals. Everyone responsible for summoning me. Left their families alive, though. Call it mercy." He popped a piece of bread into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "In exchange, they swore loyalty. Promised not to interfere in my affairs."

Shaun's gaze darkened. "So what do you want from me?"

Soren wiped his hands clean. "Simple. I've been traveling for a while, trying to figure this world out. Trying to find a way back."

Shaun immediately stood up. "Oh, well, good luck with that, then. Hope you find your way home. Don't let me stop you."

Soren clicked his tongue. "Sit down."

Shaun didn't.

Soren sighed. "I don't need your expertise in returning home. I'll figure that out myself. What I do need is an ally."

Shaun slowly sat back down, unimpressed. "You could've just said that from the start."

"I was getting there," Soren deadpanned. "But someone kept interrupting me."

Shaun gestured vaguely. "Well, here's your chance. Finish your pitch."

Soren's lips curled into a thoughtful smile as he continued, his voice carrying an almost absent-minded fascination.

"See, Shaun, my eyes are rather… specialized. I can perceive the fundamental nature of a person's soul, the intricate weave of illusions, and the very fabric of the world's aura and magic. Think of it like instantly grasping both the blueprint and the inner workings of a complex machine—along with the mind of the mechanic who tinkered with it.

Obviously, seeing and truly understanding are distinct, but when I focus my sight on this world… it's exceptionally bizarre. It's as if multiple realities have been crudely stitched together, the seams barely holding. Even the people themselves sometimes feel like fragments from different stories, forced onto the same stage, their threads never quite aligning with the background. It's like a grand mansion built haphazardly—where the exterior suggests one cohesive structure, yet inside, the spaces clash. Rivers carve through ballrooms, mountains rise in libraries, jungles take root in kitchens. It's… chaotic, contradictory, unstable. I can't quite find the precise analogy..."

Shaun exhaled slowly, his gaze dark and unreadable.

"Fractured."

Soren leaned back slightly, watching Shaun with an unreadable expression. Then, with a small nod, he said, "Yes, that explains it quite well."

A rare acknowledgment. But his gaze didn't waver. He studied Shaun as if peeling back layers unseen by most.

"You give off something… distinct," Soren continued, his voice measured but laced with intrigue. "A resonance I recognize. A feeling I've only encountered once before—on myself. It's as if we have been marked by something… or someone."

He let the words settle before tilting his head slightly. "It's a hypothesis, but one my instincts refuse to ignore. You're not from this world, are you?"

His tone was even, but there was an undercurrent of certainty, as if he was merely waiting for Shaun to confirm what he already knew.

"My reasoning is simple: first, that energy—subtle but unmistakable. Second, the way you carry yourself, your decisions, your ability to maneuver through this world as though its rules don't fully apply to you. And third…" Soren gave a knowing smirk. "is because my senses are telling."

He exhaled, tapping a finger against the table. "We exist in uncertain times and unknown place. And I suspect they're about to get even more… interesting. That's why I move. I learn. I prepare. Because waiting to see how the tides shift is a fool's game." His eyes darkened slightly. "And you? I see the same awareness in you. The same understanding that this place isn't just dangerous—it's a literal battleground and hell for those who are unprepared."

He leaned forward. "So let's make a deal. An alliance. You and I, pooling our knowledge, our resources. We both know survival isn't just about brute strength—it's about foresight, leverage, and knowing when to strike first."

His smirk widened, though his voice remained eerily calm. "Besides… if i find a way back home, Wouldn't you? like to know it as well"

Then, his expression shifted slightly, the humor dimming just enough to let something sharper surface.

"Of course, you might think staying uninvolved keeps will save you. That if you move carefully enough, the waves will never reach you." His fingers drummed against the wood, rhythmic, deliberate. "But you know better than that, don't you? This world is an open sea, filled with scavengers and beasts alike. Neutrality is just a slower path to being swallowed."

He tilted his head. "So tell me, Shaun… which would you rather be? A drifting piece of debris, hoping to stay unnoticed? Or someone who steers the storm to his own advantage? What I offer is not a relationship of friendship allies or comradely but a give and take relationship"