The next morning was a stop in the town of Hallie, or so they assumed based on directions given to them by a red knight they knew. Their friend Lobo was a classic werewolf on the outside but a closeted nerd. He would never admit he could read to another Callian, but Ed had caught him slinking off to study with Teddy in the library. Lobo had grown up in High Mountain at the prestigious Buk School for the Gifted and purposely did poorly on tests so others wouldn't know just how intelligent he was. He was ashamed of it as a good Callian would be.

  Callians have a culture unlike most, stemming from the curse they've carried for generations. Their names can control them, so they call each other generic names based on whatever animal, plant, or mineral the human was mixed with (like Lobo for gray werewolves). They liked to say this meant everyone knew everyone—everyone was friends. The saying went, “There are no strangers in Callie.”

  Another unfortunate side effect of a culture formed from a curse was the eventual evolution of the curse, but not the culture. Initial werefolk suffered a loss of intelligence and an increase in aggression. To speak of complicated matters, reading, or other classic topics of the intelligent was seen as condescending. As a result, a culture of the intelligent pretending to be idiots emerged. Even as the curse slowly evolved to increase intelligence alongside other physical attributes, the culture remained. Act stupid, shun all books as evil, outlaw mechnology and technology, and so many more little things that made life difficult. Even with his limited understanding, Ed found the whole thing exhausting.

  Related, but slightly different, was the third and most annoying part of the curse-driven culture was the lack of maps or road signs. Callians asked for directions and provided directions because they expected each other to be friendly. There were no maps or road signs because generic “enemies” could use them to target Callians. The system was designed to force travelers to meet people along the way and build a more cohesive society. As a result, the coterie didn't arrive until almost dinner time, despite their friend's directions.

  Or perhaps the sha'dew had put them behind schedule. Sha'dew favored attacking humans. What if they'd had more than the average amount of sha'dew attacks? What if one of the Callians working the fields noticed? Ed's mind spiraled with anxious questions, digging a warren for his worries to live in.

  The people gave them strange looks, and after some probing, Ed discovered they'd missed the turn to Hallie, a large border town, and were in Daulli, a smaller farming village. If only we had a visual representation of a space that showed features like roads, landmarks, and towns for use in navigation, Ed lamented to himself. Still, Daulli wasn't a bad start. The place was famous for its lamb and grain exports.

  After securing the horses at a stable nearby, they walked into what a chipper citizen called the best restaurant in town. It was also what another, less enthusiastic resident called the only restaurant in town. The rest stop restaurant and lodge was larger than most of the other buildings, standing two stories high. In addition to food and lodging, it also had had small gym area and huge weights. It wasn't a place for working out; it was a place for showing off.

  Looking around, the restaurant portion served simple Callian dishes of rice, skewers of meat, and highly spiced vegetables. The drinks were intense and fruity, often mixed with vitamins and minerals. Like a proper Callian place, tables were low, and there were cushions everywhere for seating. Bright colors and gaudy trinkets graced the mirrored walls. That was assuming there was a wall; numerous open windows let in fresh farm air, and out went the bold, spiced scent of Callian food and booze.

  The busy place was packed and in constant motion. Everywhere, people were smiling and chatting in a lively manner. Who occupied which table was in constant flux. The gym area had patrons moving in and out as they lifted, to rousing rounds of applause. In the back, there was a stage, and a trio of musicians played a loud, thumping song to a bouncing, unruly crowd. Four children ran to and fro chasing each other. They stopped along in a wave of silence, along with the conversation and tune, as the knights entered the hall.

  All eyes were on them as Ed and his blue knight accepted their obligatory hugs from the weredeer hostess. She didn't even attempt to hug the intimidating white knight. Ed could feel the girl's twinge of fear. Frankly, he didn't blame her. Stone still exuded intimidation, and his eyes, while no longer electric blue, still managed to scream, “Touch me and die.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  They were seated near the center of the room, almost as if to give as many people as possible the best view. They sat only to rise again to hug the cute black-lipped waitress who refused to go near the white knight, much to his relief and Ed's horror. What was wrong with Stone? Was it something with his disguise? Did he look sickly? Would they be caught? Why was the waitstaff so rude to Stone? Had he offended them?

  The waitress was a pretty werered-panda girl with twitching, white-lined, red ears and a fluffy, ringed tail. Her skin matched the color and markings one would expect from a red panda without the fur. Her red-and-white patterned face almost looked tattooed, but something about it felt too natural. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail with a black bow to match the little of her outfit. Born werefolk tended to wear little clothing, mainly because it often tore or became uncomfortable when they shifted into their animal form.

  Whispers began to take root, and the werefolk began migrating from table to table. Though Stone clearly looked like he was channeling a rock, he didn't move like the werefolk did. He was anxiously sitting and staring at his toes as if they'd give him the secrets of the universe. His heavy plate armor was not meant for comfortable sitting on the ground.

  Beside him, Teddy's insect-like imitation eyes looked in a thousand different directions without blinking. Like the white knight, he was a terrible actor. He walked, sat, and greeted the werefolk like a Mechmian. Stone was at least silent so that they wouldn't hear his hillbilly Heimheim accent. Overtly an extrovert, Teddy has leaned over and started chatting with a nearby table. He had the sheer audacity to claim his rather thick Mechmian accent was a north-west Callian accent. No one would believe that.

  At this rate, they would be caught, and a war would start. If only he could clearly hear what the Callians were thinking, but alas, Teddy's loud brain hum hindered his mind-reading capability. No wonder everyone warned him against choosing a Mechmian. With a determined sigh, Ed stood and addressed the room. There were only two options left, mind control or murder, and Ed was almost sure the second option was Ted's brainchild.

  With his brightest smile and most confident tone, the prince did the thing he hated. He lied and used his powers to change people's perceptions. At least he put effort into acting and making the lie plausible. He could have just straight told the crowd what to think, like when Rich was a kid, and convinced a population that their red sky was blue as a joke. Years later, they were still finding people who legitimately thought that red was called blue.

  Mostly, Ed just liked to pretend his interpersonal skills were so good that he could convince anyone of anything. Unfortunately, he couldn't actually turn off his family blessing, which is why he had to use them on himself every so often, if only to ease his guilty conscious.

  “Friends are bodyguards from Callie. Jack is a singer who performs in the territories. Jack and his friends look and act like any other Callian. Traveling for inspiration. Blue Knight was trained in Mechma and picked up a bit of a new accent. Don't ask any more questions. There are no more questions. The questions you did have don't matter, and you don't care. I mean... Eddy means old questions don't matter. Friends don't care. Can Eddy sing a song on stage?”

  The speech worked despite the occasional fits of confusion whenever Ed forgot that pronouns didn't exist in Callie. He may have felt bad for manipulating the people if he hadn't started having fun almost immediately. There certainly was no doubt why the Medions referred to Callie as the hand of hedonism and debauchery.

  His handsome face gracing the stage, Ed didn't waste time pondering how much he had missed being able to sing on stage in front of people. He felt free again for the first time in ages. The people loved the new song he'd been working on. He played it three times that night to a roaring crowd dancing to his music. Then a spontaneous jam session broke out among his fellow musicians. The more he played, the safer and more relaxed he felt.

  Not only did he get to play with a band, but he wasn't the center of gossip. Rumor had it that a group of rebels had tried to kidnap both the callie-beta-alphas (princess equivalent of Callie) during their successor trial. The locals hadn't worried about the fringe group before the kidnapping. Supposedly, the group was primarily composed of low-caste werefolk. However, if they could capture someone from the Callian Royal family, that was another matter. Perhaps the group wasn't as fringe or as harmless as previously thought.

  There was no word about Kitsune other than that she had been competing with Kitty for the title of successor. She was presumed captured because she had not completed the first marker of the trial. Her twin, the golden child Kitty, had many stories told about her. Though the stories were all different, each teller believed their version. All versions also promised a reward for information that led to her capture or for delivering her.