Remember, Clyde, if you kill yourself no one will forgive you! Especially not me!

You already know how competitive it is in Ocbeau. People aren’t as nice there as they are back in Coalint. I know it can be scary, but don’t let Fear overtake you.

... Outside of here, stillness is scarce. Peace comes at a cost. You gotta be prepared. It’s a world where chaos is just a minute away. It’s a world that won't wait for you.

But it’s a world with just enough secrets to keep you going, with people that will take care of you.

Those secrets are special, Clyde. Look for them. Nurture them, and don’t let them go.

I uncovered some of them on my own.

It's time you do the same.

I hope you find yourself comfortable in your new apartment. Call me when you have the chance. Don't forget how much we love you.

And don’t forget to floss.

---

North of Coalint, far beyond the Center region, is a frozen wasteland filled to the brim with snow. Luckily for Clyde, and his boss, Casey, the town of Yuga-Ino was right up ahead.

Clyde and Casey make their way through the village, passing through its marketplace to ask for directions to their inn. Casey, always focused, drags Clyde along through the crowds. He allows himself to be distracted by the furs and patterned carpets hanging from the walls. The handmade display tables stacked with carved ornamental winter buffalo captivate him even more. Besides, he thinks it’s a welcome refuge from the bitter cold. As people hurriedly push their way through, salesmen exploit the evening rush by pushing especially onto the two foreigners. Casey firmly declines every offer, as Clyde, too shy to say “NO”, hides behind her.

Exasperated, Casey pulls Clyde to a quieter branch of the market, escaping the heaviest crowds. She continues interrogating the shop owners, who lose interest when they realize she’s not a wealthy tourist. Giving up on the merchants and unable to read the local signage, the two pick a path and start walking, hoping to finally squeeze out of the marketplace.

When they find the inn, Clyde wants nothing more than to collapse onto his bed. He watches Casey begin preparing for tomorrow’s mission- making sure everything is in order. With such work ethic on display, he restrains from relaxing; his poor stamina is embarrassing. Clyde settles for standing in the corner with his arms crossed.

Rousing from their slumber, the everlasting nothingness of the Northern Arcoul Region greets them. The snow seemed to stretch on forever. Seeing it makes Clyde miss his home in Coalint even more. Without the soft glow of the village lights, the mountains looked even colder. Even the prayer flags, a comforting reminder of human presence, grew sparser and sparser as they moved away from Yuga-Ino.

Casey squints at her map, trying to make out the tiny details in the dark. They were now far enough from the village that he could compare its light to a star in the sky. After a minute of standing still, she gestures vaguely up the mountain—leaving Clyde to squint and strain, until he realizes what she’s pointing at … A rickety wooden fence surrounding some ramshackle houses.

---

Clyde never thought his first visit to the Arcoul region would be so strenuous. He'd always thought it'd be a visit to the capital—the ever upwards Northern Hills—or perhaps even a picnic in the rolling plains between the city and its border.

Instead, he was here for work.

Despite it all, it was a surprisingly bright night; the dance of the moons allowed the snow to shine the longer they stayed in the darkness outside the city center. Snowflakes sparkled as they hit the bridge of his nose, distracting himself from his anxieties. Unfortunately,

This purple young man was not very good at staying insouciant.

Firstly: It was cold.

It was far too cold.

Good lord above, it was far too damn cold. The heater in the corner of their room was rattling and vibrating like it, too, was succumbing to the frost. Clyde thought himself insane for taking the job; he was more interested in working with people within the city.

... And still, he was here.

Coalint is warm. Coalint’s biodiversity captivated most transplants. Most importantly, Coalint is close to home, and that was far enough for him. A new start in a familiar place. He could try and be his own person. Before Clyde could get any more wrapped up in his regret, Casey insisted they soak in the hot spring, citing its holistic benefits. She wouldn’t want to freeze before they’d even started their mission.

Clyde shyly accepts her forward invitation, feeling it’d be unsportsmanlike to decline. … He forgets the springs are divided by gender. Clyde’s glad not to be naked in front of his boss, but he feels almost just as awkward being surrounded by… Bathing Old Men…

: Nothing beats a HOT BATH after skiing, huh?

: Uh. Yes.

: Let that skin heal boy! This water has minerals!

: …Is that right?

: HELL yeah! Pride of the city baby!

: YUP! If you ever get too cold up there in your room, come hang down here with us!

: And there’s always extra blankets in the closet behind the radiator in the rooms.

: (COUGH) (COUGH)

: (...Am I going to die?)

: Hey! Remember to keep 6 feet away from me, you old freak!

: Yeah!

: Get the hell out of this bath!

: Trying to make us ALL sick, huh? You OLD BASTARD?!

: (I have got to get out of here.)

Clyde sank a little deeper into the bathwater, trying to shrink away from the boisterous old men. As they talked, his mind drifted elsewhere. Was Casey bathing with a bunch of old women on the other side of the spring? Clyde instantly ceases his train of thinking once the image enters his head. That’s none of his business.

The two meet back at their room. Clyde has to give her this one—he feels much warmer and more relaxed.

: You ready for tomorrow?

Clyde stands outside the door to his room. Behind him, Casey peeked, wiping her face with a towel. Instinctively, he turns, before looking upwards to save himself from embarrassment in case her bare skin was showing.

: Grow up.
: Remember. In and out. Quiet. We do what we need, and we're gone.

Clyde nods. So does Casey.

: 'Aight.

...The door shuts before he can blink.

Stepping into his room, Clyde breathes a heavy sigh of relief. The other tourists, he thinks, are friendlier than the locals. Despite the extra blankets he’d stacked on the bed, he still felt cold.

Tomorrow was the real test.

He’d get his first real taste of the guild experience. Finally being here, so close to the mission, Clyde felt less confident in his skills than ever. Would he really scrape by with the little training Casey had given him? He couldn’t believe she’d even passed him, let alone hired him in the first place. The most fighting he did was during his martial arts days as a teen. Tomorrow, he can only hope his god will reward a duty well done…

Laying there in the dark, Clyde tried his hardest to calm his thoughts and fall asleep. Thinking about falling asleep only made it worse. He ran through the plan again and imagined every possible way it could go wrong. They could easily get caught and punished. Or worse, he might be the one to get them caught. They might not even make it- they could get lost in the tundra trying to find the place and freeze to death. Then in the spring the locals would find their frozen bodies and have to hack them out of the ice.

... Tonight, Clyde falls asleep, thinking, and thinking, and thinking…

---

Clyde sinks his face into his jacket as he wobbles over the icy cobblestones. Of course, with his luck, the wind is on the offense. He desperately hopes it’d die down. As his boot slides on a particularly slippery patch, he braces himself against the nearest building.

: You’re taking forever.

She was a natural—with metal-spiked boots and a firm grip on the ground she walked. She had no Fear. Her walk was uninhibited, like there was no wind or ice at all. Clyde looked down at her boots, then to his own worn pair. For now, he felt it was easier when she took the lead. He carefully walked to match the bootprints she’d left—it felt much safer than creating his own path.

: ... Just a—
: There's no second either of us can or should wait on. Hurry the fuck up.

Slightly hurt, Clyde tries to reassure himself that she didn’t have it out for him. She’s always been focused. He remembers how nice she was at their first meeting—Casey had practically begged him to join the branch. He would never forget her vice-grip handshake, how cold and tough it was, and the smell of metal left behind on his palm.

Clyde was more out of shape than he thought. He watched Casey’s back as they made their way through the quiet streets of the town. He was sure she’d leave him behind if he didn’t keep pace—in fact, Casey hadn’t looked back once. As they continued, the hum of the lights grew quieter, and the cobbled streets gave way to freshly fallen snow. The frozen tundra seemed to expand infinitely in front of them. It was a miracle, he thought, that there could be a place quieter than the comfort of his own room.

As they press through the wind and snow, a looming shape began to take form. The outlines of a grand gated mansion became clearer. Clyde let out a small sigh despite himself—at least they’d found the place. Funnily enough, Casey seemed to know exactly what his sigh meant. In response, she stared at him intently as he caught his breath. Her eyes gave him notice that there certainly wasn't enough time to breathe. There’d be no rest until they’d completed the mission.

Casey led the way once more, flattening herself against the walls of the mansion and inching towards the entrance. The sound of shuffling feet inside the compound stops her occasionally. Clyde was impressed by the elegance of the place- wrought-iron spikes crowned the wall, and if he strained his neck enough, he could make out the carved spires defining the roofline. It looked easy—sliding through the shadows, scaling the fences, and fixing her route towards the backyard. Casey was a hero, and Clyde felt like her bumbling little sidekick trailing along behind her.

High above them was the sound of faint fluttering. Sheer curtains ripple in the single, open window, barely illuminated by a dim light from inside. Clyde, brows knit, turns to Casey. She narrows her eyes and sizes the window up and down. Casey then tosses her pack to Clyde as she pulls out a length of rope.

Clyde remembers clearly his mother’s reaction when he’d told her about his brand spanking new Guild job. One “big surprise” later, a lopsided “CONGRATULATIONS CLINT!!!”cake was at his doorstep. It was his fault; he didn’t have it in him to correct her on what he was really doing. Gushing over things like his secret charms, kind heart, combat skills, and how she knew he could always do it. Would she still say the same if she saw him now? He couldn’t correct her, especially not after she’d gone and told friends and family about his accomplishment. “Just don’t forget me when you’ve made it big!” she’d say.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever make it to that level.

… It would be nice, he thinks to himself. They have world-renowned dental insurance, apparently... He couldn't hope to get those benefits with a little private security firm like this. Either way, he posed himself a greater question: If Clyde couldn't become a guildworker, could he survive a career serving those disinterested in the greater good?

Clyde takes a step forward; his heart beating, hands sweating, stomach churning ...

The closer he gets, the more animated the figure seems under the blanket. Approaching in silence, Clyde hears the gentle breathing come to life, his anxiety rising as the sound bounces against the walls. The bedside table hosts a photo of the man and his family—a bunch of people in a snowy field underneath the moons. They looked happy, all dressed up together. Dancing together.

Smiling together.

He stares at the photo, then back at the man. With little time left, he uses it to pray to Vega— for reprieve from the obstruction of justice he'd cause. To pray his victim a painless, quick death, and to pray whoever commissioned this assassination was doing so for a good cause.

It was the only thing he could do before he felt his shaking hands hover above his soon-to-be victim. And yet, he stops before making contact.

: Are you stupid?! What the FUCK are you doing!
: ... I was ju-
: Hurry up!
: Do it!
: What the fuck are you waiting for?!

Clyde staggers.
: ...Fuckin-

The sound of metal, a whooshing wind, a plucked string, and a squirt of blood. That's all there was.

Clyde leaves.

Clyde absconds ... wherever he can go, as far as his legs can take him.

With all the hurriedness of a startled rabbit, Clyde scurries back through narrow village streets, bumping into the occasional night owl. He nearly loses himself through left turns, until finally hitting a dead end right by the outer wall. At the height of all his mania, all of the stacked firewood and cold storage barrels become steps. He hardly registers the clattering of smashing logs and smell of leaking wine casks breaking behind him.

The snow cushions what would otherwise make a rather ugly fall. Freshly fallen powder explodes into the air around him as he lands, covering him in a thin layer of white. As he dusts himself off, Casey appears, looming over him. For a few seconds, it seems like her extended hand is an offer to help Clyde to his feet.

Of course, that short window would pass, and she’d yank him forward by his collar.

: Are you fucking stupid. What was that?!
: What's wrong with you!
: I ju-
: I didn't hire a wimp. And I sure didn't hire a damn loser. So what the fuck is your problem?
: If you ju-
: Fuck no. You just fucked this up. I don’t wanna hear your excuses.
: ...
: ...
: Whatever.

Casey drops Clyde to the ground, sucking her teeth.

: It's done. We get paid. That's what matters.

Clyde looked from his cold, red hands back up to her. He sees the shadow on her face grow larger and larger. He felt it might absorb him completely if they stood there in silence any longer.
: ... And you're... Still... a rookie. We'll—

Before they knew it, the ground rumbled. The longer they stood, the harder the tremors. For once, the two were on their feet and running. Together.

Clyde felt a strange lightness to his steps. In the darkness of the night, the moons illuminated metal strings attached to his clothes. In her left hand were the ends of her thread, and the cords that pulled him forwards. Clyde wondered to himself—Is that why I moved so fast earlier?

He was relieved to be looked after. He couldn’t help but feel cared for despite knowing that “care” was purely business on Casey’s part. No wonder she was the boss; she made everything look easy, even when they were on the run. The determination on Casey’s face meant he’d be getting the rest of that scolding later. Clyde figured he’d better prepare for it while she was focused on their survival.

The avalanche quickly overtook their pace. With a flood of white closing behind them, they were buried faster than one could scream for their mother. There was no evidence of life left behind.

Deep underneath the snow, the bright white ice looks blue. Clyde tries to move, but realizes he’s pinned under all the snow. Disappearing deep in the avalanche might be a better fate to whatever punishment Casey had in store.

Just as his fate had finally settled itself in the snow, he felt a tug on his jacket. Casey’s metal strings were pulling him towards the surface. Clyde is dragged up just enough that he could finish crawling out himself. As he gasped for air, he’d take a good look at her with his freshly opened (but achingly cold) eyes. Except for a little snow on her shoulders and hair, Casey didn’t look like she’d just been buried alive.

Just as they think they’ve escaped the worst of it, a LARGE SNOWBALL the size of a small snowball thunders down the mountain, smushing both Clyde and Casey back into the snow. As they peel themselves off the ground, the snowball comes to a stop and slowly crumbles, revealing the form of a young woman.

: Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Casey, quickly shoveling the snow off her head and onto the conspicuous pair of Clyde-shaped feet sticking out of the ground, scowls as she’s forced to once again remove the snow from her sleeves. Clyde, resubmerged, wouldn’t even bother complaining.

Frustrated, he shakes the snow out of his jacket and hood, taking extra care to make sure none of it slides down his shirt. The thought of becoming a huge block of ice terrified him.

Unfortunately, he shivered through what snow he couldn’t avoid. Even worse, there were still so many clumps of snow in his hair.

Clyde watches Casey’s tense figure relax as she recognizes the snowy young woman.

: Damn. Okay.
: It's just you.
: ...Oh! Did I scare you? I'm very sorry!

The walls of his skull had space only for the freezing cold, and the ringing sure wasn’t making it any better. Even if the two women were talking right in front of him, he’d have an easier time comprehending their conversation if his body wasn’t finally settling down from the shock. The mysterious young woman nods animatedly as she speaks, her attention focused entirely on Casey. Casey then gestures to Clyde, and the young woman’s gaze follows. Her face lights up and she pounces on the poor, sopping cold man, nearly knocking him over once again.

: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
: THANK YOU!!!!!!!... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! … … … !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
: You have no idea how much you’re helping me!
Clyde recoils in shock. He looks over at Casey helplessly, but she turns away sharply as soon as she detects his gaze.
: (...I didn't really...)
: I can’t believe it! All according to PLAN!

Just as he thought he’d escaped her grasp, the girl grabs Clyde’s hand; Shaking it firmly and rather vigorously. Her claws dig into his skin.
: Oh, I forgot! Wait! My name is…

: I know your name.

She looked back to the village. Lights were turning on, and the villagers were coming to investigate the aftermath of the avalanche.

: We'd better get moving before they catch us.
: Shoot! You're right. Uh... Um-
: Yuga-Ino, see you NEVER!
: Hey, not so fast.

Casey grabs the girl by the back of her collar.
: You, Madame, better hand over what you owe us if you know what’s good for you.
: Oh!
: Oh.
: That's right!

The girl digs through her small pack before turning from Casey and unceremoniously handing Clyde a large, jingling sack of coins. The heaviness intensifies the lingering soreness of her violent handshake.

: Clint, right?
: Clyde.
: Clyde! Okay. Um...

The lady turned to Clyde once more; her whole face lit up.
: If your name starts with a C, and hers does too—
: How about Camille?
: ...
: …If it makes you happy.

Camille’s smiling face melts away some of Clyde’s irritation.
: Hey, seriously,
: Thank you!
: ... Yeah.
: Now that my father is gone, I don't need to suffer!
: It’s thanks to you I can start living a normal young girl’s life!
: ... It's just what we do.

---

: Well, well, well! Look who came crawling back!

: What did you think would happen?
: Were you hoping we'd die?
: NO!
: I mean, no, of course not.
: My beautiful supervisor.
: My radiant manager.
: My--
: So this is that Keanu guy you told me to watch out for?
: Yeah.
: WHY?
: Because--
: Don’t bother with him. He doesn’t know anything.
: I'd argue he's right about that.
: That's right, my shining, my incredible, my darling dear- ...Wait, huh?!
: Shut up.
: My name is Camille, by the way! I'm happy to be here!
: (For now.)
: For now! Apparently!
: Shut up, Clyde.
: Yeah. Shut up Clyde.
: You too. You're going in the back.
: WHY?
: You scare everyone away from the bulletin board.
: ... Even the orphans down the street were talking about you.
: WHAT!
: What did they say?
: I don't know. I wasn't listening. Because. I was busy.
: WHAT?
: I'm going there after work!
: Woah! You were right! He IS weird!
: NO!
: No I am not. WHY AM I BEING PUT AWAY?
: Camille will be the new receptionist.
: You can go back to counting money.
: Oh, good.
: ... Actually, this is great!

Keanu holds out his hands expectantly. Casey pinches his left ear, before dumping the bag in his palms.

: WHY???
: You won't get away with stealing my money again. Got it?
: OKAY. Okay. Ow-- Okay.
: Do the other one.

Casey reaches over once more, pinch-ready, but Keanu flinches away in fear.

: OKAY! Okay. I GET. I get it.
: ...

... He then takes a long look at the coin bag, sighing, before hoisting himself out the chair. He then fondles it as Casey turns to her new employee.

: Listen, Camille. Don't bother greeting him.
: Or talking to him.
: In fact, don’t even think about him.
: He's more irritating the more you get to know him.
: I made that mistake.
: Yeah, and Clyde's a good boy. So talk to him instead.

Camille lets out a gasp.

: Okay!

Keanu lets out a gasp.

: WHY?

Casey pinches the bridge of her nose. Clyde starts looking for something to do.

: I'm nice!
: I'm for real nice! Hey! Come on!
: Clyde!
: Tell them! I'm nice!
: ...
: ... I'm nice!

Once Clyde turns away, Keanu hangs his head in shame, leaving the girls to laugh. Before Clyde can move to the broom and make himself useful, he feels a familiar cold hand on his shoulder.

: Listen. I know it's hard.
: 'Specially on your first.
: But it won't get easier.
: And I won't always be there to help you.
: Keep that in mind.

... So be it.

Clyde remembers the look on Camille's face as she told them about her life. The tears in her eyes as Casey gave her a place to stay, her tone as she summarized her home life, her glee as she fled the village...

Clyde scratches his head.

---

The cheap shoebox apartment he was provided with, little more than a solitary confinement chamber, felt like heaven compared to Yuga-Ino’s bitter cold. The occasional sounds of laughter or marital disputes would float through the window, but once it ended, he’d be met with the deafening silence of his room.

As he sinks into his bed, he watches his fan oscillate, ruffling the leaves of his dying houseplants—he was sure he’d watered them a few days ago. Clyde’s eyes lazily survey the room, taking in the mysterious stains on the unadorned wall and old burns on the carpet before landing on an empty microwave dinner container and an open can of Jetsi (that’d no doubt gone flat).

Clyde closes his eyes and turns to face the blank wall. Some art to cover the peeling wallpaper might be nice, and maybe some real furniture instead of cardboard moving boxes.

The idea shriveled and died on the spot as he imagined himself picking out decorations all alone. Behind their polite smiles, the staff would remember his miserable face, forever mentally branding him as a lonely mess.

He didn’t mind the lint balls and boxes and geckos that keep visiting in the dead of the night. In fact, the 3am ceiling lizard sightings were one of the few things he was always excited about.

It won't be forever, he hopes. Clyde wills himself into a crawl, hiding under the covers after he throws out his empty can.

So be it.

The phone rings.

He picks up, and ever so slowly, nothing feels the same.

---