"But Fabale..." Octavio hesitated, his steps unsure as they moved away from the Obelion border, "Where do I even go?"
Fabale grinned, his golden hair catching the early light like spun fire.
"Obviously, my homeland-where else, you crownless prince?" he chuckled. "Ha ha ha..."
Then his voice shifted, just slightly more serious.
"But the real question is... which route do you prefer, Octavio?"
He turned, walking backwards with his hands behind his head.
"There are two paths ahead of us. First route: we head to the Port of Obelion. It'll take about seven days. Then we'll cross the Sea of Sailia and arrive at the Port of Rala. That way is straightforward."
Octavio blinked. It sounded simple-but Fabale's eyes said otherwise.
Fabale's smirk faded, replaced by caution.
"But... that port is under Obelion control. The guards there know your face. And if they see me with you, worst-case scenario-"
He paused, then raised an eyebrow dramatically, "-I could be accused of kidnapping the Crown Prince."
Octavio froze for a moment, the weight of what he'd done setting in again. "They'd really arrest you?"
Fabale shrugged. "If they're loyal enough, yes. But don't worry-I look good in chains."
Octavio snorted despite himself.
Fabale's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"And then... there's the second route. But..."
He glanced sideways at Octavio with a grin. "Okay, it's for you to decide."
He pulled out a worn piece of parchment, the edges curled and ink faded with travel.
"There are forests along the Obelion border, right?" he asked casually.
Octavio nodded. "Yes, but not the whole border is forest. It's a small part-a designated safe zone. Nobody goes beyond that."
Fabale tapped the map with his finger.
"That's it. Look here-according to this map, if we cross the forest, follow this river south, we'll enter Rala directly. Easy, right?"
Octavio stared at the inked lines, then back at Fabale.
"But wouldn't it be... dangerous? Has anyone ever used this route before?"
Fabale blinked, then burst out laughing.
"You really do think too much, Octavio! If no one ever crossed it, how do you think they made the map in the first place?"
Octavio frowned, unconvinced.
Fabale leaned in, nudging him with his shoulder.
"And if no one really ever has crossed it... then let's be the first. We'll write history. Someday, we'll tell our grandchildren: 'Yes, we crossed the Forest of No Return... barefoot... while fighting off river monsters with sticks!'"
He made sword-fighting noises with his mouth.
Octavio couldn't help but smile.
"...You're impossible," he murmured.
"And you," Fabale replied, pointing at him, "are finally starting to sound like an adventurer."
"Gggggggg..."
The sound broke the silence like a distant drumroll.
Octavio froze, his eyes wide in horror as his stomach betrayed him.
A second "ggg..." followed, even louder.
He turned slightly away, face flushed. "That wasn't me," he muttered weakly.
Fabale paused. Then burst out laughing.
"HA HA HA HA! Oh stars above-Octavio, your stomach's a rebel too!"
Octavio groaned and hid his face with both hands.
"Could you not announce it to the forest?"
Fabale grinned, hands on his hips like a heroic storyteller.
"Fine, fine! I forgot it's hard to plan legendary escapes on an empty stomach."
He slung an arm around Octavio's shoulder.
"Let's eat first. Then you can decide which route your grumbling heart prefers."
Octavio smiled despite himself. "I'll choose the one that leads to food first."
Fabale winked. "A wise prince, at last.

They stepped into a modest commoners' inn-wooden walls warm with firelight, the scent of cooking oil and baked bread filling the air.
Octavio's eyes lit up with curiosity. He approached the counter like a child in a market for the first time.
"I'll have two chicken cheese burgers," he said proudly, "and for drinks, two berry-milkshakes."
The innkeeper-a stout, middle-aged man with kind eyes and flour on his sleeves-looked at the two young men, then nodded slowly.
"Alright, young travelers. Take a seat."
Fabale watched silently, a sly smile dancing on his lips.
Octavio noticed. "What?" he asked, frowning.
"What's that smile for, Fabale?"
Fabale leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers behind his head. "Nothing. Just... wait."
Octavio narrowed his eyes. "You're being weird. Anyway, I've made my decision."
Fabale blinked. "Oh? You chose the route?"
"Yes," Octavio said proudly. "We'll take-"
Before he could finish, the waiter arrived with a tray and a cheerful voice.
"Here you are, sirs! Two plates of roasted chicken, two loaves of bread, two bowls of berries, and two glasses of milk."
He placed the food carefully on the table and added, with an apologetic bow,
"Sorry, sir. We don't have cheese-it's quite expensive, only noble houses can afford it. But please enjoy your meal!"
The waiter bowed again and left.
Octavio stared at the food. Then stared at Fabale.
"...What... just happened?"
Fabale was already trying (and failing) not to laugh out loud.
"Oh, poor Octavio," he said, grinning wide. "You really needed this."
Octavio blinked. "This... this isn't what I ordered!"
Fabale chuckled. "You're not in the palace anymore. Out here, most commoners haven't even heard of things like 'cheese burgers' or 'milkshakes.' You described it, and they gave you their best guess. Chicken, bread, berries... milk."
Octavio looked down at the rustic meal and whispered, "...They just... deconstructed my royal lunch."
Fabale lost it.
He burst out laughing, shaking his head.
"This is what freedom tastes like, my friend. Bread that bites back-and milk that's probably from a goat."
Octavio tried the chicken. It was a little dry. The bread was hard. But the berries?
Sweet.
He smiled.
It wasn't royal-but it was real.