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“You’re lordship the new jester has arrived” the servant informed while down on his knee looking to the ground. Upon the throne was a man with bright eyes that held power. No one could look him in the eye for more than a second. Everyone knew who he was, everyone knew he was powerful. He looked upon his subject like a god looking down on an ant
“Let him in” the man ordered. The great doors to the hall opened and in came a petite man who took a couple steps forward with their head down looking at the floor.
“Raise your head,” the man on the throne ordered. The jester did. The jester looked him straight in the eye. The king stared at the man expecting for the jester to look away. He did not. It was unusual, but the king thought it’d be a one time thing so he ignored it. “Tell me your finest story” the king ordered. The jester started, though the king did not pay attention to the plot, or the jokes. He instead was looking for something wrong. The jester felt off. Too confident, too weird. The king could’ve killed him whenever he wanted yet the jester was full of joy. The jester looked at him in his sparkly eyes even though no other could. It was at this moment that the king knew that the jester would stay by his side for the rest of his time on the throne.
Decades later the king no longer was on a throne but in a bar. It was loud and chaotic. People whispering either rumors about the start of a plague or complaining about life. The no longer king sat down
“jug o beer” he nodded to the waiter at the table as he slapped down a coin to pay. The jug was slapped on the table without a word and the man started drinking.
“Thief!” rang out in the bar, it went silent, other than a petite funny looking man running through the croud with a bag of money. That wouldn’t be the last time that happened in that bar. The petite man never got caught. Instead the man at the bar and the petite man became friends.
The first ships were traveling to the new lant, the man at the bar traveled over. On the boat was a boy who was almost an adult all alone. He looked like a mess. The man exploring a new place walked over to the boy.
“Where’s ya parents?” he asked. The boy just spat in his face.
They were the only two that survived the trip over.
The final battle on the shores of new york. America was about to be free. A just turned man fighting for his place in the world and a now settled soldier barely trying. Both of them were weird in different ways. One not having a care in the world, one that’s seen everything. Together, shooting their final shots, gaining a new place, and becoming friends once again.
A deadly battle once again, a hundred years later. Both fighting again. One for the joy of blood the other forced. Both make the experience better for the other. Once it ends they run around again happy, to have found eachother even if one doesn’t remember.
The soldiers have lost their jobs, one running around as a thief, the other looking, longing. The thief does what he does best, steals from the one who is longing. The one who longs has found the one he missed, and remembered in all of this struggle, a petite thief, jokester, and fighter who could never kill.
The one who was a king, a man at the bar, soldiers, and a man longing gets a name. Alex. the jester, thief, soldiers and a theif again also gets one. Morgan. They meet again, though only they know how, others get told all the other ways, and the ways they’ll meet in the future. Alex the immortal, and morgan his partner