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“Woah, woah, what’s the matter here?” Rye said cautiously, raising both hands in front of his chest in a pleading manner.

“The matter?” said the frantic guardsman, eyes darting between the crab and the archer. “The matter is that there’s a dragon about! Haven’t you heard?! I have strict orders to follow!”

Balthazar’s eyes were now emoting an intrigued frown as he moved his gaze up to the jumpy man still rudely holding a weapon at him.

“I understand that,” said Rye in an attempt at sounding friendly and harmless, “but surely you don’t think we’re a threat, right?”

The guardsman nervously licked his lips as he readjusted his oval-shaped helmet away from his eyes.

“I ain’t paid to think! My orders are to not let anyone accompanied by pet companions through, adventurer or not!”

“First of all, rude,” Balthazar calmly said, finally deciding to intervene. “I assure you my companion Rye over here is very well-behaved and that I won’t let him make any messes. Second, do you think we are secretly carrying a red dragon the size of a barn in our backpacks?”

The guard gawked at the crab with his mouth ajar, chin trembling and lips twitching as if about to form a word, but no sound came out as the spear shook nervously in his grip.

“Did…” the stunned man finally mumbled after a moment. “Did that crab just talk?!”

“What are you doing, you idiot?!” a voice shouted from behind the portcullis.

Another guard, wearing a similar uniform as the first, came rushing out of the gate as it slowly rose to let him through.

“You bloody fool!” yelled the second guard, who sounded far more seasoned.

He stretched an arm out, pointing at Balthazar. “That’s the merchant crab!”

The younger guardsman’s eyes went wide, and he quickly withdrew his spear back to his side.

“I… I… I didn’t know!” he stuttered, standing very upright. “I never seen him before, only heard ‘bout him! I thought… I thought he was supposed to be a giant crab, or somethin’!”

The other guard made a stupefied face and shook his head as he stared at the younger colleague.

“I am a giant crab! How many crabs this size have you ever seen?” exclaimed Balthazar, who continued casually standing there, looking bigger than a goat.

“I… never seen a crab before,” the young guard sheepishly admitted. “Grew up in my pa’s farm before this job, and we never got to even see the beach, so…”

“Just get out of here before I call the captain, for god’s sake. I’ll handle this,” the other guardsman said.

The novice guard walked away, head down, spear dragging on the ground as he quietly mumbled to himself. “How was I supposed to know that wasn’t a weird dog wearing armor?”

“I’m sorry,” said the remaining guard, still shaking his head as he turned back to the two arrivals. “They’ve been recruiting new guards to reinforce the watch ever since the dragon attack, and I guess they’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel now.”

“Heh, no worries,” said Rye with a nervous chuckle. “It all ended well, anyway, anyway.”

The guard turned his focus to Balthazar with a big smile on his face and, to the crab’s surprise, brought a hand up to his forehead in a salute.

“It’s an honor to see you again, sir! I hope you remember me. We met before at your pond.”

The crustacean stared at the man with his eyestalks raised and his mouth half open.

“Uhhh… yes, right, I definitely remember you,” Balthazar said, definitely not remembering the guard.

It wasn’t just that they all wore the same yellow uniform and identical brown armor, it was that to him, most humans simply looked the same.

Not his fault that they lacked easily identifiable carapace shapes or unique underside patterns.

“You were the guard…” the crab continued, squinting at the man. “At the pond… That one time… With the spear, and the… uniform…”

“Right, exactly! The name’s Quentin,” the guardsman proudly said. “I was there to collect those ruffians that tried to attack and frame you for the stolen goods. And then again when we arrested Mr. Antoine, too.”

“Yes, that!” exclaimed Balthazar with a snap of his claw. “Yep, I knew that.”

“I was there too during the charge at the dragon, third row from the back on the east side. I even had this helmet on.” He pointed at his oval headpiece, which looked identical to the one the guard before him had on, as well as every other guardsman Balthazar had ever seen. “I tried waving at you from there, but I don’t think you saw me.”

“Yeaaah… must have been busy looking west when you waved, sorry. Anyway, can we go in or…?”

“Oh, right, right!” Quentin said, looking as if he had briefly forgotten where he was. “Please, come on in. We had to enforce tighter rules on who comes and goes because these are dangerous times with everything going on, but a well-regarded figure like you, who scared away that fire breathing beast like you did, is more than welcome in our town.”

Balthazar tried to force a quick smile as he averted his gaze, and the three of them began walking through the gate. He was still not comfortable with the reputation of having made the dragon retreat. Not because the crab was one to turn down free credit and respect, but because the memory of the event was still a fresh and painful scar in his mind, reminding him of what he had lost.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Bouldy, Madeleine, even the damnable system he had never wanted before.

Balthazar shook his shell discreetly as he walked. He would not let those thoughts get to him anymore. They were not lost. He was going to get them all back.

Despite everything the crab had gone through recently, after the initial turmoil passed, he was finding himself able to think much more clearly than ever before. Almost as if a weight had been lifted off his shell and the curtains around his mind had been pulled back.

I can even hear myself think properly now! Balthazar thought to himself.

No longer feeling bound to anything anymore, the clever crustacean was determined to achieve all of his goals. Come crow or dragon, nothing would stop him.

“Oi, stop right there!” a commanding voice ordered, snapping Balthazar back to reality.

A middle-aged man, with a stern look on his face and wearing a more robust version of the guard uniform with no helmet, revealing a balding head, stepped out of a side door on the town walls. “Who’s this you’re letting through, Quentin?”

“Captain!” the guard said, while standing straight and saluting his superior. “It’s the merchant crab, sir. He has come to visit our town.”

“Howdy,” Balthazar said, letting go of one of the straps of his backpack to give a friendly wave.

“Huh, that one I know,” the captain said, nodding at Rye, who nodded back in response. “But I had never seen the famous crab around these parts.”

He eyed the merchant up and down. “I thought you were a hermit who never left his home.”

“Ah, I’m just a very busy entrepreneur, but sometimes it’s important to make time to stretch your legs a little and see the sights. I heard so much about Ardville, figured it was time to see it for myself.”

“Well, you are pretty well renowned, and the Mayor himself says you are welcome in our town, but as the captain of the watch I’m still going to tell you the same thing I’d say to any other first-time visitor. Mind your manners, don’t cause any trouble, and everything will be fine. Don’t and I won’t care if you’re the merchant crab or the lobster prince. You get thrown in the brig all the same. Enjoy your stay.”

And with that, the captain simply walked back through the door he had appeared from without another word.

“Well then, he’s a warm greeter,” said the crab, turning back to Rye and Quentin.

“Oh, don’t mind our captain too much,” said the guard. “He’s a stern but fair man, and with everything going on lately, he’s a bit on edge. Back when I joined the watch, he even still had a full head of hair!”

The trio walked a few more steps and exited the gate arch into the open street.

“Right, I need to get back to my post, but I’m sure Rye over here can show you around,” Quentin said, hanging back by the wall. “It was nice seeing you again, sir. Please let me know if I can be of assistance with something at any point.”

“Sure, sure,” Balthazar dismissively said as he turned away to the street.

“I’ll be here all day if you need, just gotta ask anyone for me. My name’s Quentin,” the enthusiastic guard yelled from the gate as the archer and crab walked away.

As he turned around, the guardsman mumbled to himself. “Quentin, you idiot, you had already told him your name. Now he’s going to think you’re a fool.”

“Friendly guy,” said Rye with a smile.

“A bit too pestering for my taste,” Balthazar replied, giving a slight eye roll.

“Come on now, he was just a little star-struck. You’ve been the talk of the town for a while. Gotta get used to the attention. You’re famous now!”

The merchant groaned quietly. Fame and attention were a fine line between useful and annoying, and as much as Balthazar enjoyed the perks of being treated with the proper importance he deserved, at that moment, he was feeling too exposed and vulnerable for that.

As he looked around, the crab saw streets heading in multiple directions and people busily going about their day, some rushing, some strolling through. Some pushing carts and wearing simple working clothes, others dressed fancy and passing by looking like they had not a care in the world.

Towering above it all were houses, stores, small towers, and all manner of buildings Balthazar had only read and seen drawings of in his books. Compared to them, even his bazaar felt small and unimpressive.

As he looked around at all the new people moving about, a squeeze in the pit of his stomach made the crab’s breathing shake.

“Boy, this street sure is packed,” Balthazar said, nervously wiping the top of his shell with the back of his claw.

“It is?” said Rye, looking around at the townsfolk walking by and doing a quick headcount. “There’s like… six or seven people here.”

“I hate crowds,” the crab muttered.

The young man squinted at the merchant with a confused expression. “How is half a dozen people a cro—”

“So, are these castles?” Balthazar asked Rye, quickly trying to change the subject as his eyes continued nervously exploring the surroundings and avoiding the adventurer’s gaze.

“What? No,” said the young man with a chuckle. “This is just the commoner’s quarter. Simple houses, some small stores and warehouses, along with the guardsmen areas.”

“Oh…” the crab said, feeling far less giant now.

“I get it. It must be a little overwhelming. I forgot you’ve never been to a town before. Come on, let’s go this way. I think the first place you’ll wanna see is the market.”

Balthazar’s eyes perked up at the mention of the word, and he promptly followed Rye through the largest street in front of them.

There was no time for panic when there was market research to be done.

As they exited into the wider area of the town’s square, the crab’s jaw dropped as he saw the hustling and bustling of the market, with its many stalls and carts orderly lined along the pathways, their owners calling out their wares and prices as the people browsed the stands and haggling happened all around.

It was all Balthazar would have dreamed of if he had known it existed.

The crab’s starry eyes gazed through the square, taking in its many colors from all the fruits, the spices, and the many baubles on display. The sounds were like the most beautiful chorus he had ever heard. Prices being thrown around, coins clinking, and goods exchanging hands. It made the merchant’s breathing shake just to stand amidst it all.

As if not already overwhelmed enough, something even more potent reached his senses. An alluring smell the crab knew all too well, and that made his eyes widen.

“Pastries,” he whispered, legs trembling for a moment.

Skittering off without a second thought, Balthazar chased the smell through the crowd.

“Hey, where you going?!” Rye’s voice called from behind, his calls fading into the background cacophony of the crowd.

Bumping knees and hips as he went, the excited crab pushed onwards, enticed by the growing aroma that beckoned him.

Images of Madeleine’s freshly baked pies and other pastries flashed through Balthazar’s mind as his mouth watered.

Just a taste. Please, just one little taste!

The pastry withdrawal had been driving the merchant crazy, after an unbearably long time (which is to say, less than a week) without baked goods.

“Oof!” exclaimed the crab as he bounced back onto the ground.

Blinded by his gluttony, Balthazar failed to see where he was going and headed face-first into some kind of unmovable object.

The object, he found out as he lifted his gaze from the ground’s cobblestones, was actually the massive leg of an equally massive man.

Standing with his arms crossed and a face of someone who likely made new friends by threatening to choke them out, the apparent bodyguard stood next to another, much smaller figure.

The small man turned around. He was wearing bright, extravagant clothing of clearly expensive quality, had a floppy hat with a single feather sticking out of it, and an absolutely ridiculous thinly trimmed style of facial hair.

For a split second, Balthazar’s heart sank.

Antoine?!