It was a dark and gloomy November evening. Guards lurked around every corner, looking for one individual in particular. It was under order of the king that they were to find the individual alive. The reasoning behind the order was never explained. They had a brief description of the suspect in question, fair skin, jet black almost dark blue hair and piercing blue eyes as dark as the night sky. The suspect was also quite tall for their age but their build did not match their height. They were around 5 feet 7 inches but extremely skinny, weighing around eight stone. The kingdom had been looking for the suspect in question for a month now. Wanted posters were scattered around the villages, making the suspect seem more menacing then they actually were.
Meanwhile the suspect in question was eating a piece of bread someone handed them a few minutes prior. They were acting tedious around the villagers, hoping they didn't recognise them. After they finished the bread, they decided to walk east, trying to avoid the cluster of guards observing the town centre. As they got to a pub, they knocked into someone. The other person seemed unfazed, pulling down the former's hood.
"So, you are a boy? That makes things interesting. Empty your pockets and there will be no trouble."
The young man looked at the person who removed his hood and sighed. He was not in the mood to be threatened or robbed. He had more important problems to deal with. He just looked at the thief and spoke in a soft but quite threatening voice.
"If you knew I was, you would not be attempting to rob me. You would probably of ran the other way after seeing my face, so the fact that you did not either means you do not know who I am or that you have a death wish. So which is it?"
The thief just stood there, not taken aback by the criminal's words. In fact it made them intrigued, they stepped closer, their bodies almost touching.
"So, does that mean you did something serious? That is so cool! How did you do it!? An arrow through the neck? Poison? Poisoned arrow?"
The criminal froze, he did not know how to respond to the person who was jumping with glee in front of him. He just took a step back and when he finally spoke, it was only one word.
"Wyatt."
The other person blinked, somehow broken out of their enthusiastic trance. They buried their hands into their pockets, tilting their head slightly then stepped forward so both of them were almost touching again.
"Is... That your name? That is such a cool name!!! Is it your villain name? If so, it works so well!!!! Can I see your liar? Oh. Where are my manners? The name is Aslan. Aslan Rome Bardin. But you can call me Aslan."
He muttered to himself.
"But most people just call me a mistake..."
He kicked at the ground, almost kicking Wyatt.
"But enough about me! Are you on the run too? You are a little too cute to be wanted."
Wyatt nodded. His body could not move, he could only move his head enough to nod in response to Aslan. He could not believe it. Someone was not attempting to pass him over to the guards. Who was this mysterious man? Why was he so intrigued by Wyatt? Why could he hear a horse? A horse!? Oh shit...