Mahon quickly found out a caravan’s guard job was incredibly boring. The pace with which the carts moved was excruciatingly slow, and even though the landscape was one he had never seen before, he changed so slowly that he grew bored with it after half a day.

They were traveling on an earth road with the occasional stone mark to indicate how far away they were from the nearby towns. On their left, the forest stood as far as the eyes could see, and everywhere else it was just an empty plain. A few wild flowers sprouted there and there, with the occasional rocks spread around, but otherwise it was just an empty land.

Only once during their short two-day journey did they meet people, and it was short of half a day from the next town, Jongvale. They were two, father and son, moving around a herd of sheep to greener grass. Edwin stopped to discuss with them, and Mahon went closer to listen, out of boredom. The discussion wasn’t anything interesting, except for the fact it was indicating they were close to the next village.

The area was so calm, the caravan never bothered to send scouts ahead. The nearby presence of the forest repelled any kind of monsters, Elas told him, and his job as a guard just resumed to walking near the carts and helping people. Given the good conditions of the road and the carts, he never had to do something.

So, Mahon did as the other guards. He quickly dropped any semblance of guarding anything and simply spent his time talking with the people of the caravan. His most favorite buddy to spend the day with was Elas, because the man always had a story to tell, and even if Mahon wasn’t that interested in the man’s adventures, he was more concerned with the geography of the country, the customs, and the everyday life of the people living in Finem.

Through his short stay within the caravan, he realized the people weren’t exactly the same as Jorik and him. They worshiped the Fada a bit differently, with a lot more rituals in their everyday actions, and with way more emotions. Their faces reflected every single thought they had, and it wasn’t rare for people to turn angry for anything, or joyous at just a simple sight.

Truly, they were another kind. Or maybe, if life has been more normal in Ratho, Mahon too would have acted like them. For now, he had trouble accepting how these people were so open and so genuine with their feelings.

The second person with which Mahon spent most of his time was Reptar, the music merchant. Mahon had already met his two daughters, Petunia and Rose, and the merchant had also introduced him to his wife, Nelly, a gentle petite woman with the same beaming face as her daughters.

During the breaks, while the cooks prepared the food, Reptar worked on Mahon’s harmonica under the watchful eye of the Last Red. Mahon wanted to see how the man switched the thin metal plate to be able to do it by himself if another problem occurred with his harmonica. In the meantime, the merchant asked about Mahon’s life, but after seeing his reluctance to answer past the basic questions, they had found a common ground in speaking about music and instruments.

Sometimes, Reptar took out an instrument from his cart, tuned it, and played a few songs for the whole caravan. At night, his daughters, and sometimes his wife, joined for an improvised concert that cheered everyone’s mood after a long day on the road. Even though the merchants were used to this kind of life, Mahon learnt that most of the journey close to the forest was very long and boring compared to the latter part of the journey, and especially when moving towards the east and the capital.

So, when the colored roofs of Jongvale came into sight, a happy clamor ran through the caravan.

“Finally here!” Reptar said as he raised his hands to the sky to stretch his back.

The muxale, the six legged brown cow-like animal pulling the cart, mooed in echo of his master, and Reptar patted the massive animal with a smile.

“Right, right, we’ll soon stop, Hector.”

Mahon watched the whole scene from the side with a smile. It had been a familiar one in the past two days, as the animal seemed to smell when they were about to arrive, and it would be able to eat.

“So, you were saying, nothing special with Jongvale, but…?” Mahon resumed his conversation with the merchant.

“But it marks the end of the boring part of the journey!” Reptar answered happily.

“Aren’t we supposed to lunge the forest up to Amul?”

“Yes, but the road goes a bit further east for a while before going back to the forest for a few villages. Once we pass Jongvale, the landscape will finally change, and there will be more wild animals. And, that, my friend, means more welcome meat in our meals! You’re a good hunter?”

Mahon grimaced, reminded of their poor attempts to catch a rabbit while they walked through the forbidden forest with Jorik.

“Not really.” He answered. “I learned how to lay some traps, but I’ve never been good with this kind of thing.”

“Traps?” Reptar shook his head. “I’m not talking about this shit! I’m talking about bow and arrows. The thrill of slowly approaching your prey and landing an impossible shot. That’s hunting!”

Through the stories from Elas, Mahon had learnt that the strange stringed weapons that Tharn used in the wood were called bows, and that they fired arrows. Apparently, it was considered some kind of sport to hunt wild animals with this, but Mahon had yet to see it.

“I’ve never used a bow before, but I’m eager to see what it looks like hunting with this.”

“You’ve never used a bow? What kind of guard are you?” Reptar joked and laughed out loud when Mahon smiled awkwardly back at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Lots of city guards have no clue how to use a bow either. It’s weird for a caravan guard’s not to know though. I could teach you if you want.”

“Why not?” Mahon shrugged, not that much enticed by the perspective of learning how to use that kind of weapon, yet. Although he was curious about it, he was more interested in the land of Finem at the moment.

The caravan finally arrived at Jongvale, and some local rangers guided them to a wide space kept empty for them. In under an hour, the tents were all set up, the carts aligned, and the market opened. They had still a few hours before nightfall, and the town being on the small side, they were leaving in the morning, not staying more than a day to buy and sell.

Mahon stayed a bit longer near Reptar once he had helped him unpack his instruments and prepare his cart, but there wasn’t anything really going on, and he started touring the market instead. He eyed the village’s folks as they scrutinized what this caravan brought to their doors, but they were simple and gentle people, and Mahon didn’t see anything that even needed a guard, and much less a dozen.

Is it actually that simple to be a caravan guard?

While walking through the market, he saw Elas leaning against a cart, a pint of booze in his hands. The Frontalier spotted him too, raised his glass in a salute and gestured for Mahon to join him.

“Is it allowed to drink on the post?”

Elas bursted out laughing. “Welcome to Jongvale, Mahon! Here take this.” The man turned back, grabbed another glass and pulled a beer from the barrel behind him. He then clanked his glass against Mahon’s one and drank a wide mouthful with a pleasing sigh.

Mahon wasn’t sure how to react about it, and Elas gestured for him to go for it. “What? Too serious to drink on the job? Let me tell you about Jongvale, then. This town is almost non-existent. Look around you.” He gestured for the empty market. “There is no one. We only stop there as courtesy, but the reality is that we could pass it completely, and it wouldn’t impact us in the slightest.”

“And that’s a reason for drinking?”

Elas chuckled. “Well, yes. There is no business to make, and Jongvale is the last town on the boring part of the journey. Starting tomorrow, your job as a guard becomes a real job. We’ll meet more people and monsters. We’ll hunt animals. We’ll see something else than this damned forest. We’ll finally be traveling like real adventurers. Can’t you already feel the mood? Stopping at Jongvale means a big party to celebrate the exciting part coming up!”

Mahon acquiesced slowly. “So it’s the last stop before the real deal, and since there is nothing to do here, it’s the best place to party?”

“Yes!”

“But didn’t you say starting tomorrow we’ll need to be fully alert? Why not party yesterday and rest today then? It would be more efficient and secure.”

“What? Ah, man, you understand nothing. Today is the day we party. Even though we leave tomorrow, it will take some time before we meet some monsters. Edwin will try to tell you otherwise, of course, but trust me, nothing has ever happened after Jongvale’s party. Now drink your beer, or I’ll make you clean the latrines all night long.”

Mahon didn’t hesitate any longer. After all, Edwin had said the Frontalier were the brain and the guards the muscles. If Elas insisted so much to party tonight, he would do as ordered.

He hadn’t even finished his first beer, that other guards and merchants joined them, and soon half of the caravan was happily drinking and chatting together. An hour later, Reptar tuned his instruments, the cooks started to bring some food, and the party truly started.

Mahon spent most of his night sitting next to Elas and a few other guards, watching the people crazily dancing at the frantic rhythm of Reptar’s family songs. The Frontalier gave them beer after beer, such that their drinks were never empty. Soon, some of the guards started to roll under the table while others did their best to go back to their tent on their own.

The Frontalier, however, didn’t seem to mind the alcohol, and he only started laughing louder and telling more stories as the party continued. At his side, Mahon did his best not to get too drunk. He was tipsy, but fully capable of clearing any blur should he need to.

“You choose the next one.” Elas finally pointed to Mahon, as he was the only one remaining at Elas’ table.

Mahon leant forward and asked in a slow voice. “Have you ever met the Ill Immortals?”

“Ohhhh! You know about them?” Elas exclaimed without a care in the world. “I thought you were just an ignorant peasant! Did that old Tharn threaten you with stories about them?” Elas laughed loudly.

Mahon flashed a smile at the Frontalier, hoping to get some information about the mysterious organization. He had not heard a word about them since he joined the caravan, even though Elas told him at least ten stories a day, and Jorik also brought his own share of discoveries while they talked in Nightmare.

Seizing the opportunity to interrogate the man while the alcohol lowered his self-restraint, Mahon didn’t hesitate to bring out the subject.

Elas threw a look around and moved closer to Mahon. “Edwin doesn’t like that we talk about them, but, hey, he isn’t around and neither are the Ill immortals. I met them a few times, but you’re never sure, as they don’t promote themselves. You’ll never meet someone proclaiming they’re Ill Immortals, but sometimes, you just know.”

Seeing as Elas was ready to divulge some information about them, Mahon pushed away his beer and focused on the Frontalier.

“The Ill Immortals is an organization as old as the Fada themselves. Legends say it was even founded by them to help humanity. They were valiant knights and talented magicians, at the service of the people. They roamed through the kingdoms, ready to lend a helping hand to whoever needed it. They were worshiped by all. But that was a long time ago.”

Elas took a long sip of his beer and continued his story with the same mysterious voice.

“Maybe they grew too powerful and internal quarrels broke them from the inside, or they got tired of helping people. We’ll never know. But as everything else, once you’ve got power it’s hard to resist doing whatever you want with it. Nowadays, the Ill Immortals is a secret organization said to pull the strings behind all the kings and queens of the world.”

“They specialize in assassinations, revolts and discords. They search for mysterious things nobody knows anything about, and they’ll do anything to meet their ends. They’re not anymore servants to the people, but monsters lurking in the shadows for whatever mysterious goal they serve. You never know when you meet one, but you know when they strike. Some towns disappeared entirely because of their doings. People with too much power died in mysterious circumstances. That’s their doing.”