As I come too, I see some strangers around me. I sit up. My head is killing me. I hear the flow of the river behind me. One of the strangers, a sweet lady, comes over to me with some rags. "Here. To cover yourself."

"Thanks. Got any water? Or food? I'm exhausted..." I begin wrapping myself up.

"Soup should be just about ready. Are you hurt?" one of the men asks.

"I... I don't think so..." I slowly begin to stand up. I'm escorted to a simple bed, clearly prepared for me.

"Are you sure you're not hurt? That mark looks painful" the lady replies. I look to my wrist where she's indicating. Something suddenly feels off... like I should know what it is... but...

"It doesn't hurt. May be an old injury or something." I slowly lay down, thinking, before sitting up again, my legs still stretched out. "I... I think I have amnesia... does anyone know who I am?"

"Couldn't tell you" a particularly energetic teenage girl says as she passes me a bowl of soup. "We were all trying to figure it out just as you began to wake up. Truth be told... I wish you were someone else."

"Someone... else?" I inquire, unsure what that could mean.

"The king" a slightly older boy states. "He was killed a while ago. News normally takes a while to reach our little settlement, but this was big stuff. Some guy just announced that the king was murdered and he'd be our new king. The king was really kind and fair, always making sure everyone has what they need. It was often said he'd starve himself to protect his people. No-one trusts this new guy."

Why does that sound familiar...? "But if the king is dead, then how could I have been him?"

"It's a case of hope" a lady sitting with a baby comments. "We're scared of the future... but if our king were alive, and he were found..." I nod in understanding.

As the evening progresses, I settle in for the night. I have some horrid nightmares. Some people cast a spell at me... my entire face changed in an instant... none of my soldiers believe me when I tell them who I am and that I didn't kill the king. I have to flee. I escape through the hidden passageways, diving into the water. I'm a pretty good swimmer, so I'll be fine... I'll be fine... I'll be... fine...

I wake with a gasp. I remember everything now! I look at the people who were so kind and generous to me. Could I tell them? I have the royal birthmark... the very mark that's on my wrist... but would they know? Would they believe me? Even my own men turned on me. I have no choice... I must leave...

I gather some supplies and begin to sneak out, when I overhear something. "Do you think that killer could have washed up so far?" "We have to check. At the very least, put up wanted photos."

I gulp, when I feel a hand pull at my arm. The teenage girl. "Why are you leaving?"

I need to think of an answer, stat. "Some bad men are after me. Do me a favour and distract them for me. I believe there are some just around the corner there."

"I don't know... will they hurt me? Why are they bad?"

"Look, you'll probably hear more tomorrow. Please, just do me this one favour. I promise you'll be ok."

"...Ok." She goes over to where I pointed and begins chatting away. Now's my chance! I slip away as quickly and quietly as I can. I overhear the conversation. "So he's not here?" "I didn't say that. I just said I'm no good at matching faces. I may have seen someone like him..." "Where would it have been?" "Well, earlier we found this ma-" "HEY!"

I've just been spotted, but I'm far too far away now. In the distance I hear ^("Oh, that's the guy? Yeah, he wasn't drawn well, I could have otherwise told you that we found him!")

Clever girl... covering herself like that... I just keep running. Though, I begin to realise I have nowhere to go... what do I do?"

=WARPER=

"I really need to get out into the field more often! I'm in my office way too much!" I smile at Purge. Ever since I admitted my feelings for her, we've been spending time together.

"It's fun! It was quite thrilling when I teamed up with Morpha!" We both laugh, then I spot something.

"Hold on, Purge, I think..." I run over. A man, clearly dehydrated and exhausted. "SIR! Please, tell me, what happened to you?" The man looks at me blankly. Purge joins us and gasps.

"Tha... that mark..."

"What is it, dear?" I ask.

"I had a friend a while ago... this was before I became Purge... she worked for the royals in a kingdom... she knew everything about the royal family... she told me about this mark... this mark is a royal birthmark! Sir, why are you so far from your kingdom?"

The man blinks. "I was chased out. Damn spellcasters changed my appearance. I was the king... now the traitors have all my men thinking I killed the king, and the mastermind took over the kingdom. Been running for my life. I don't know if I can even reclaim the throne..."

Just before I can respond, two more men, dressed as soldiers, turn up. "HAND HIM OVER! He is to be executed for treason against the kingdom!"

"For the love of- show them your wrist, your majesty!" Purge commands. Startled, the man does so. The soldiers, confused at first, recoil in shock and shame.

"Don't bother asking for forgiveness" the man says. "You all lost my trust the moment you listened to the real traitors. It's not like I can go back anyway..."

"Actually" I jump in, "maybe you can... magic changed your face, magic can change it back! I'm sure we have-" the man looks at me.

"I've just been running from the very kingdom I worked hard to support. I feel really bad leaving my people like this... but as far as I'm concerned, everyone who threatened me is a traitor. I don't want to go back to ruling over the very people who just threatened to kill me." He turns back to the soldiers. "Remember: a kingdom's might is only as powerful as its people. Do right by the people, you do right by the kingdom."

We escort the man back with us. After some well needed R&R, I present a client for him, considering his life is at risk and that he doesn't even have anywhere to go. Much more humble than his previous occupation, but he seems ready and willing to be the cleaner for a household. "I have one request" the man says. "I've heard from visitors about things called 'tattoos'... I want to cover up this mark. I want no reminder of this horrid part of my life."

I nod. I call over a former villain, Spill, known for using ink as his weapon and defence. He had said once before if he wasn't a villain he'd be a tattoo artist, so he'll be able to do this.

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This story is a part of my series, It's Not Just Business. Please check it out!