Birthday Boy

     It was a redundant sentence, really. Brynn wouldn't be lugging suitcases outside if she wasn't sure. Her young thief counterpart stood against the doorway of their current "home" which was nothing more than a cheap hotel room until they decided to move on; just like how Brynn was doing.

     Hanso unhappily watched as the guard slung a carry-on over her shoulder, mindful of her sword, and then glanced back at him with momentary sympathy and that permanent lingering annoyance. "I already told you, okay? It's an emergency down in Brightvale... raids and riots, lots of them, and they need help."

     "And why can't I come?" Hanso leaned against the doorjamb, trying to break out his best pitiful look. It worked on other guards, but not on Brynn though, with how stubborn she could be. It didn't hurt to try however.

     "Because, Fyora might need you," Brynn merely answered, proving her partner's attempt futile. "I'm sorry, okay? I wish I could stay too, because angry mobs are just a pain, but I can't. I'll be back by the end of the weekend."

     "But Brynn..." Hanso gave her his puppy eyes that she only blatantly ignored, busying herself with attaching her bags onto her Uni. The thief wanted to get her to stay, but he'd already tried every trick in the book. He just wished he hadn't woken up so early in the morning, hadn't been so excited, hadn't actually expected something only to be shot down the way he was now.

     "I'll see you later, okay?" Brynn didn't bother to face him, but Hanso took that as a good thing. Whenever the two had to be split apart for different jobs, Brynn wasn't exactly eager and it was harder for her when her thief friend tried to hold her back. Hanso took it as an apology anyway. He knew she was listening and recognizing his desperation. Not like it'd stop her.

     "But today's..." Hanso began, but cut himself off as the guard mounted her Uni and then snapped the reins, shooting him a reassuring smile before galloping off down the street. The thief watched her, slumping in utmost despair.

     He had honestly figured everything would spiral downhill, because things hardly ever went as he planned. Hanso wasn't one for organizing and planning and sticking up a calendar with little notes scribbled in red marker. No, he was simply one who just rode with the current. He had lived that way for the past eighteen years and things going his way nowadays was a true miracle. But he hadn't thought his jokey trepidation would be a reality.

     With a heavy sigh, he finished his sentence. "...my birthday." He knew no one heard, but he inwardly willed Brynn to hear so she'd turn back around and realize her mistake. But the day she'd do that, Snorkles would be flying and Hanso would earn everyone's trust just by his appearance.

     A passing child donning delivery boy clothes suddenly ran past, not exactly accurate with aim just yet and successful in tossing a rolled up letter at his face. Normally, Hanso's instincts would've gotten him to the note quick enough, but he was busy staring off dejectedly. The paper whacked him soundly in the face and he yelped in spite of himself. The boy called out an apology, but didn't slow.

     With an angry glare at the boy, Hanso swiped up the letter, recognizing the official seal pinned on it. He retreated back into the room, shutting the door behind him.

     And just his luck. He wasn't going to be able to just sit around in his T-shirt and jeans all day and ATTEMPT to enjoy himself, because Fyora was calling him for yet another artefact hunt.

     How fantastic.

     He threw the letter across what passed as a living room and watched as it wedged itself between the sofa and the wall. With an annoyed grunt, he shuffled off to go change.

     He hardly even bothered making himself presentable. He threw on his coat, ran his hand through his hair, and walked out the door as an unhappy just turned nineteen-year-old.

     Even as he stepped out, he tripped and fell over the couple of steps in front of the door, getting a mouthful of dirt in the process.

     It was going to be a long day.

      ~*~*~

     "I'm sorry."

     The words had tumbled out of his mouth probably about thirty times already and they weren't stopping anytime soon. Hanso gazed up tearfully (but they were MAN tears, for sure) and he felt utterly awful. Dirty and wet, with his coat decorated in a colorful palette of mud and grass and who knew what else, and his left arm was hurting horribly. His bad birthday luck was only just beginning, he was aware of that though.

     "You should've been more careful," none other than Queen Fyora herself responded as she finished wrapping that irritating gauze around the thief's injured arm. "I thought I gave you a very simple job. Retrieve just an artefact in a desolate city... and I'm taken aback by the fact you couldn't even accomplish that."

     "I tried," Hanso grumbled, wincing as another spike of pain shot up his arm.

     "Are you sure?" Fyora only bit back, not the least sympathetic and far from the typical caring and soft-speaking queen Hanso usually met up with. Nowadays, he felt like she was gaining grumpiness especially reserved for him whenever he brought himself into the castle. He wouldn't have been surprised if he was right.

     "What exactly were you doing?" She looked up at him, looking more curious than angry, but Hanso couldn't tell. He squirmed under her gaze, feeling like he was lower than dirt. What was he even indicating with this? That Brynn was the reason all the hunts went right? It made him feel hurt, angry, and rejected all at once, and it wasn't exactly a lovely combination.

     "I tried, Fyora!" he just about whined, not caring about formal directories right now. "But it started to rain and then I slipped and mud got into my eyes and... and I stumbled into that random angry Gruslen and he attacked me and I just couldn't go through with it!"

     "Haven't you gone through worse before?"

     "I dunno." The thief shrugged, feeling like it was a pitiful excuse. The real thing was aside from slipping in the rain and getting almost mauled by some random petpet, he lost his way and couldn't even locate the city. He figured his embarrassment was already going a long way and he had turned back. He didn't exactly regret the action. Having to have a search team go after him would've been much worse.

     Fyora raised an eyebrow, but then shook her head slowly, processing the information. "Whatever is your excuse. But it doesn't matter, I'll just get someone else. You might as well try to recover..."

     "Brynn's out of town," the young thief reminded weakly, scuffing his boot on the expensive carpet.

     "I'm aware of that," Fyora responded, musing. "But if I'm correct, I think King Jazan just visited recently to drop something off... he's not a regular hunter, but I'm sure he's somewhat familiar with cursed objects and I can probably still catch him."

     "Great," Hanso grumbled, now feeling like he was kicked in the gut. To have his job stolen by the guy that hated him was just rubbing salt into the wound.

     "You should leave now," the queen said, but her uninterested look meant she was more kicking him out than anything. "I'll inform you later if an easier hunt comes up. You be careful with that arm now."

     "Yeah, don't worry. I'll be fine." Despite the crushing disappointment that he felt, he figured he should try to resume his happy-go-lucky demeanor.

     "And please try harder next time," Fyora finished. "Today isn't anything special from what I know, so you shouldn't slack off. Shirking from your duties is what gets you taken out of the job." She looked worriedly his way, but Hanso didn't even turn back to face her.

     "Right... today's not special at all," the young thief responded, leaving the room. He was really beginning to believe that.

     He left the regal room, taking slow and deliberate steps in case his boots were still muddy. He was glad Fyora had helped him out at the very least. But he was appalled to think his bad luck was beginning to stretch out to his job. That was really the reason he felt he even had a purpose being in Faerieland.

     He shook his head, disappointed in himself as he reached the foyer. The sentry nearby looked a little shocked by his run-down appearance, but the thief could care less.

     "Nice to see you, too," he quipped at her and reached for the door, but it swung out suddenly, bruising both his shoulder and his pride.

     He hit the rug and skidded a few feet before crying out in earnest. He lifted his head, seeing Jazan staring back down, offering no help and only giving a ghost of a smile.

     "Walk much?" And then the sardonic smirk came into view.

     "Buzz off," Hanso spat weakly, scrambling to his feet as he rubbed his hurt shoulder. He wearily fixed his coat and sighed. So much for not staining that rug.

     "I take it you failed a quest. Fyora actually had to come to me. Are you really that much of a shame?" The king raised a single eyebrow and tilted his head, mocking, but with the hint of genuine curiosity. Hanso knew his potential was known to the king, but the current scenario really was bemusing, even to himself.

     "Shut up. You don't know what I'm going through!" the thief snapped and Jazan stepped back a pace.

     "I always must remind you, Ixi," he snarled, turning his back to Hanso. "Honor the higher figures. And learn to not be so incompetent. You don't seem recognize an authority figure when you see one."

     "Well, I'll do that when you learn not to hit people with doors. I thought they taught you that in royalty school?" the thief shot back and raced out of the foyer before he could get the king's typical I'm-about-to-fry-you glare.

     ~*~*~

     "No! Let go of me! Dangit, I didn't do anything, let GO!"

     Hanso struggled against the restraining grips of the two guards behind him, but he figured it was a fruitless effort anyway. He was sore and dirty and hungry and those three factors usually led up to not being able to fight against guards. Combined with the let-down of a day, he was stuck, like it or not.

     "Oh, don't start that!" one of the guards huffed, shaking Hanso's arm. "We saw you sneaking off with that lady's purse!"

     "How do you know? Maybe it's mine?" the young thief shot back his typical cocky comment and, despite his still raging disappointment, he gave an aggravating smile that shut the guard up.

     The two guards were burly and rough, but Hanso knew he could deal. He went along with them as they moved on down the street, ignoring the stares of judgement by onlookers. He really wanted to kick himself, because he knew he shouldn't have tried snatching something while his bad luck was still hanging over his head.

     It didn't take long for them to reach the cells and for the young thief to get tossed into one quite unceremoniously. The heavy cell door slammed shut, narrowly missing the thief's foot.

     He picked himself up from the cold concrete floor and groaned, rubbing his now bruised knee. So far, everything was getting bruised, including his ego.

     He was going to be sore tomorrow.

     He rubbed his aching forehead, trying to figure out how he was going to get through this mess of a day. He figured just staying in the cell was the safest option. With how things were going, getting struck by lightning could very well be the next dilemma.

     He began to make his way to the dirty cot nearby when a random voice stopped him in his tracks.

     "Well, well, well. Who do we have here?"

     The thief stiffened and turned, recognizing a hooded figure standing outside the window. Flashing green eyes stared back and Hanso scowled, not in any mood for more grumpy tall people at the moment.

     "Kanrik," he only spat, collapsing into the cot once the word left his mouth.

     "Master thief got caught once again. I don't think you'll ever learn," Kanrik commented, but fell silent after Hanso didn't try reiterating with his own quip. "...are you feeling sick or somethin'?"

     "Yes. Sick of the day." Hanso had to put tremendous effort into sitting up, but he did so and glared at the experienced thief outside. "Can you just leave me alone?"

     "Well, I was actually expecting a friend of mine," Kanrik said, sounding almost bored. "A link to some information and yada yada. There's a rumor going around about a threat to the guild, but I bet you it's just another practical joke."

     "Right. Whatever." Hanso fell back facefirst into the musty pillow on the cot. "Why are you in Faerieland though?" he mumbled into it.

     "Only place I could meet up with the guy. He likes the way the system works here, I guess. Says he knows just about every guard and has his own little method to get away with heists. But enough about my life, what're YOU in for?"

     "Stole a purse."

     "Kid, that's a new low. Even for you."

     "I was hungry, alright? And I felt too lazy to go back to the hotel and get my own money... actually, I think Brynn might've taken it..."

     "That guard partner of yours? She out of town?" Kanrik folded his arms and stood against the barred window. "Another conference or something?"

     "No, emergency down in her homeland. And it's scientifically impossible to get between her and her homeland, you know."

     Kanrik smirked at that, but shrugged anyway. "Still. It's sad you got caught stealing a purse. That's something for the trainees, kid, not you."

     "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

     Another shrug. "Take it how you want."

     Hanso grunted and turned his back to the window. "I need a nap. Leave me alone."

     "You never answered my question. Are you sick?"

     "Something like that." The young thief shut his eyes and sighed. "Why don't you just go and meet up with your link or whatever? Do your little clandestine trade?"

     "You need any help?" Kanrik motioned to the locked cell door, and Hanso glanced back at him with a look of surprise, but shook his head anyway. "I'm fine. The cell is pretty peaceful for me."

     "You're a weird kid," Kanrik mumbled under his breath, but then disappeared like a flash, nothing but a quick wave of his cloak. Hanso knew that the older thief was probably sensing something wrong. He hadn't uttered a single comment or insult or whatever he usually did to annoy Kanrik as much as possible.

     Whatever. He could use the break.

     With a soft sigh, he shut his eyes once more and found himself drifting off.

     ~*~*~

     Hanso sat in the inclement alley that night, not caring about the cold that seeped through his coat and chilled him to the bone. He watched as people passed, enjoying their day. Having fun. Doing what they planned, everything going right.

     It was a fantasy, really. Hanso really didn't understand why he thought his nineteenth birthday would be the best out of them all or anything. Maybe because he was famous? Because he was awesome to everyone? Maybe that's why he thought this birthday would be extraordinary and stand out from the rest.

     A breeze passed by and Hanso burrowed deeper into his coat, wishing he had had a chance to celebrate with Brynn. He wanted some way to remember the day. Who wouldn't? Perhaps he could sneak into a nearby bakery and just bargain for one of those really cheap cakes that were dry and flavorless. But then at least it'd feel like a birthday.

     "You don't need birthdays."

     Hanso remembered that simple sentence being said from his father, when the young thief was merely five years old and had been excitedly anticipating a grand party or something of the sort.

     "But everyone else has parties!" the young Hanso had exclaimed unhappily, tantrum brewing. "Joey had a party today at school and--"

     "Why would you need a party for a birthday anyway?" his father had snapped.

     "Because. It's to celebrate the day I was born! The day I became alive!" Hanso had shouted, throwing his small arms up in the air.

     His father had only snorted cruelly and turned away. "Why would I want to celebrate that?"

     Now, the nineteen-year-old was nestled in between an empty trash can and a wet brick wall as the words repeated in a mantra in his head.

     "You don't need birthdays. You don't need birthdays. You're a man, Hanso. Learn to grow up. You don't need a party..."

     He brought his knees to his chest, feeling an odd disinterest in pick-pocketing or annoying a couple of guards. He had a strange feeling of unhappiness and dread that was so unlike him.

     "Happy Birthday," he softly said to himself before closing his eyes. It made him feel slightly better, as low and pathetic as it seemed. He felt more known, more appreciated. If only those words were ever said by someone else. It hurt to know even Brynn hadn't remembered. Or perhaps she did, but only once she hit Brightvale.

     Maybe she'd send a postcard or something. Even Hanso would appreciate just that. Just a little sign that his birthday wasn't turning out as a total fail...

     Ha. He was kidding himself with that one.

     During his musing, the thief jumped in shock as a plate with a slice of cake suddenly fell into his lap, a swirly white candle sticking up out of it. It was chocolate, with intricate frosting patterns and all the works. He stammered, stunned, and deemed it a convenient random event until he heard a gruff voice from behind him.

     "Happy Birthday, kid."

     Hanso froze, staring down at the surprise cake and he turned his head, expecting to have to run. But much to his surprise, he only saw the dim forms in the shadows of none other than Kanrik and Jazan staring down at him with their usual intimidation and twin folded-arm poses. But there was the smallest hint of compassion from both of them and the young thief felt completely out of place.

     "I... how did you know?" he whispered, oddly finding it inappropriate to speak aloud.

     "Sharp ears, kid. Plus you've been moping around all day," Kanrik answered, adjusting his hood and looking a tad uncomfortable, like he didn't want to be standing there.

     "You're not the only one who doesn't have consistent birthday celebrations, Ixi," Jazan added.

     "I win at something over you then." Hanso finally cracked a smile, feeling his usual charm returning and he glanced at the cake. "Thanks. Really."

     The thief studied the brand new candle stuck in the frosting and he chuckled. "I guess I oughta pretend, huh?"

     "Never mind that." Jazan knelt down and there was a quick flash and a small movement from his hand and the candle was soon aflame, flickering in the chill of the night.

     "I..." Hanso stared at the glowing flame, speechless, and then shut his mouth. With a wide smile, he blew it back out and then dug into the cake with fervor.

     "I'd make this a cheesy heartfelt moment..." Hanso began, then cracked a smile. "But it's you two."

     "And there it is," Kanrik mumbled as Jazan fought the urge to grimace in knowing the two had only just brought back the annoying little twerp that was the bane of their existence.

     Jazan made a small indication with his head and Kanrik nodded. The two left the young thief in the alley, who was now laughing and mocking a guard across the street.

     "He's back to being a pain," Kanrik grumbled as the two walked down the street. "Should we regret that?"

     "No." Jazan reached into his pocket and withdrew a Neomail, a Brightvale seal on it. "Brynn sent us this for a reason."

     "I'm surprised she didn't just take matters into her own hands. She had to rely on us, and make us 'conveniently' end up in Faerieland..." The experienced thief gave a sigh of frustration, a lock of hair over his face flying up. "But... he seemed happy."

     "It just takes a little recognition," Jazan said as he tucked the letter back in his pocket. "That's as far as a birthday celebration I ever dared to go. Some cake, despite the fact it's much too sweet for my liking..."

     "Killjoy," Kanrik murmured, then saw a young boy rush past in delivery clothes. The kid tossed a paper and it smacked the thief in the face.

     "Sorry!" The child laughed before running off.

     "I'm gonna kill him," Kanrik growled, glaring after the kid as Jazan retrieved the letter and read it over.

     "...well."

     "What?"

     "Now Brynneth is telling us if we don't do something, she'll be tossing us in the dungeon for defying a captain's orders."

     "Someone didn't have her coffee this morning," Kanrik sighed, flipping his coat further over his face. "But at least she cares enough, I guess. Wanna go grab the kid a new dagger or something?"

     "Lead the way. I'm not an expert in gifting." Jazan quickly joined the newfound letter with the old one and sighed in exasperation. "As long as I'm not tossed in the dungeons tomorrow."

The End