Bad wasn't a normal person.
Normal people didn't have magic. They didn't have the ability to curse people right on the spot. They weren't able to turn invisible at will or summon undead warriors out of the ground.
They also usually weren't getting chased by a mob of angry villagers.
His black hoodie kept him warm as he ran. He never liked running at night, even without people chasing him, waving sharp weapons and screaming bloody murder. It wasn't easy to avoid tripping with his clunky boots, but he managed all the same.
Bad regretted a lot of things.
Most of them had to do with his friend.
"Bad, would you please hurry up!" his friend in question, Skeppy, shouted at him. His blue cloak billowed out behind him as he ran, one hand tightly holding the rim of his hood down over his face. A bandana of the same color covered the lower half of his features, with his signature painted smile imprinted onto the fabric. He didn't even look out of breath.
Bad ducked as arrows whizzed past his head. "No, you can't tell me to do that! I wouldn't be needing to hurry if you hadn't stolen my potions and covered the floor of the mayor's in a layer of slime!"
Skeppy chortled. "Are you serious? That was awesome!"
"It was not awesome!"
He pushed himself harder, running faster than ever before. He had to get away, not only because he didn't really want to get caught by a bunch of unhappy villagers, but also because he had to scold Skeppy at a time when he wasn't out of breath and regretting his life decisions.
"You're no fun, Bad," Skeppy grumbled. He glanced over his shoulder at Bad, probably just checking to see if he was still keeping up, his pace never faltering. "I think I'm going to fight them."
"You can't, Skeppy."
"Stop!" one of the villagers behind them shouted, waving a sword in the air. "Pay for your crimes!"
"How about 'no?'" Bad called back.
"Look, they're asking for it," Skeppy said. "Please?"
Bad hesitated, then sighed. He didn't want to make things worse than they already were, but he also wasn't interested in going to jail again in one day. Skeppy gave a delighted whoop and stopped running, planting his feet firmly on the ground and turning around to face the villagers.
"Don't kill any of them," Bad said.
"Sure."
Skeppy pulled his sword out of the sheath on his back and swung it in a circle, showing off his wrist movements. Bad stopped just behind him. He tried to avoid fights if he could, but if Skeppy needed his help, he'd be here for him.
Not that it mattered. It was the mob of villagers that needed the help.
He sat down on the stones that paved the road. His feet were sore and tired, and the rest, even if it was going to be short, was a bliss.
Of course Skeppy had to pull a prank. Because that's just how he is.
But covering the floor in slime? That gets creativity points, I suppose.
Potions weren't difficult to make, but Bad didn't like doing it. He was a mage, not a potions master. It had taken him hours to make the few potions that he did have, all because he kept accidentally blowing things up.
Maybe it is difficult, after all. Or I'm just incompetent.
I think I prefer being a mage.
He watched with detached interest as Skeppy leapt over one of the villager's heads, using the momentum to kick forward and knock out another. Skeppy was a good fighter. He didn't have magic or special training or any of that. He was just skilled. He worked hard. Bad could appreciate that. Even though he had been born with the powers to become a mage, it hadn't been easy harnessing the magic. And then he had to figure out what to do with that magic.
Bad gave a slight exasperated sigh as a sword cut across Skeppy's side, drawing a yelp and then a less-than-quiet curse out of him. He disliked swearing. There was no point in it, something that people tended to overlook.
His hand wandered up to the halo that floated above his head, his trademark. It had been the first-ever thing he had enchanted, giving it the power to mask his face. Halo. What a nice thing, seeing how that was his name. His true name, not the one that Skeppy had given to him.
"You're so bad, Halo! Come on, you're such a bad boy, Halo." Skeppy's playful voice rang out in his head.
Skeppy was playful, unpredictable, total chaos. Bad was controlled, kind-hearted, and law-abiding. It was strange that they had been drawn to each other. Two complete opposites.
The sound of metal on metal brought his attention back to the present. Skeppy was fighting a man decked out in armor. The man was good, but Skeppy was better. He dodged to the side and swept his opponent's legs out from underneath him with the flat of his blade, then punched his face as he fell.
"Was that final punch necessary?" Bad asked.
Skeppy blew a strand of hair out of his face. "Yes. If they had decided to allow some female warriors to fight as well, then maybe I wouldn't have won."
"'Maybe?'"
"Fine, I still would've won," Skeppy said. "But... less quickly."
Bad stood up and walked over, examining the wounded and unconscious. They seemed fine, no major injuries that could risk them losing their lives. "You actually kept your promise," he said, feeling slightly surprised.
Skeppy rolled his eyes. He knelt down and cleaned the blood off of his blade with the dazed man's shirt. "Of course I did. It was to you, Bad."
"Hmph." Bad turned away and started heading down the road again. Now that they weren't being chased, he could finally chew Skeppy out for being an idiot. "You shouldn't have pulled that prank. We were already free to go. I was out of jail, and you hadn't been tracked down yet. That was not a sensible thing to do."
Skeppy simply shrugged. "Since when is anything I do sensible?"
Uh... well, he does have a point. "An apology would still be nice."
"I'm sorry, Bad," he said sincerely. "It was stupid and fun and reckless and fun, and I probably shouldn't have done it, even though I totally would do it again."
"That's a horrible apology, Skeppy."
Skeppy tugged down his bandana and smiled. His smile was one of the things that Bad liked the most about him. Even if things were going absolutely terribly, Skeppy's smile would always be light and airy. Nothing seemed to be able to weight it down.
"What do you mean?" he asked impishly. "I'm a master apoligizer."
"Yeah, because you have to do it so much."
"Bad, my feelings are hurt."
"Well, too bad!"
Skeppy laughed. "Aw, come on, Bad! This is an absolute win! I got away with a prank and got to beat up a bunch of idiots. And you're not in jail." He gave Bad a curious look. "Actually, you never did tell me how you got out."
"Yeah, because you immediately pulled another prank and sent us on the run again," Bad huffed.
His friend didn't respond. Clearly, he was still waiting for an answer.
Bad sighed again. He plucked the halo from its place above his head and slipped it over his hand, where it shrank into a bracelet, floating around his wrist. He realized that he did need to talk to Skeppy about it. It had been weird. "You know Dream, right?"
Skeppy frowned slightly. "Dream? The notorious assassin with a kill streak and a reputation for never failing? No, not personally."
"But you do know him," Bad insisted. "Of course not personally, but you've heard of him."
"From time to time."
Bad scratched his head, running his fingers through the soft brown curls. "Well, he was in the jail with me."
Skeppy's eyes widened. "What? No way, that's so cool! What was he like?"
"I think something has changed about him," Bad admitted. "I mean, I've only heard stories about him as well, but they always portrayed him as this cold, heartless killer that you never wanted to upset. But the Dream I met was nice."
"A nice assassin," Skeppy said doubtfully. "That's--- actually, it's not the stupidest thing I've heard. What do you mean by that?"
Bad shrugged. "I don't know, he was just nice. He was pleasant when he was talking with me, not cold and cut off like you'd expect. And even though he didn't make it too obvious, he seemed eager to help the two men that he captured. He let me put a restraint on him to help them. What sort of self-respecting assassin does that?"
Skeppy was silent for a minute before replying. "What if... what if the two men that he 'captured' weren't really captured at all? What if they were just going along willingly with him?"
The idea was so incredulous that Bad couldn't hold back a laugh. But the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Dream had been perfectly at ease with the two men later on. Even though being on a rooftop wasn't the best vantage point, Bad had glasses. He could see the relief on Dream's face when the three were reunited, and the worry and disgust on the faces of the other two when they found out what the restraint did.
An assassin making friends with normal people? I'm happy for him.
"Hey, did you hear that rumor that the Superiora royal family was attacked by assassins?" Skeppy said suddenly.
Bad frowned slightly at him. "Uh... no? Did that really happen?"
His friend shrugged. "One of those guys that had been there with Dream looked a lot like the prince. I think those rumors are true."
"So he's become friendly with the one he was supposed to kill?"
"I know, it sounds impossible," Skeppy agreed. "But... if you're right and he has changed, then I think it's actually likely. Who's that big bad guy who rules the dark side over here again?"
"Peligro, I think," Bad said. "Why?"
"If anyone hired Dream of all people, then it was probably him," Skeppy explained.
Bad nodded slowly. "Only Peligro would have the money to hire Dream to kill the royal family."
"Except that Dream failed."
"Maybe he didn't want to kill them. Maybe he had a change of heart."
Skeppy glanced up, locking gazes with Bad. "Must've been really special to him then."
Bad smiled slightly, then looked away. They were approaching the house that Bad had bought in secret, where he lived in peace without random people knocking on his door to try and drag him to jail. He knew that it was risky, but he liked having a physical home to come back to after a long day of dealing with Skeppy's shenanigans.
I wonder if they're okay. Dream knows what he's doing. I described everything to him in perfect detail. As long as he remembered everything then it should be fine, right?
I wonder who was the one to sacrifice themself?