“Why would they be Ill Immortals?” Jorik finally asked after recovering.

“Oh, come on! Not you too!”

“What?” Jorik threw a perplexed look at Mahon, but the latter shrugged in answer.

“First, the leader is a seven-star warrior, and yet he barely looks thirty.” Siraye started to explain.

“There is no way he is thirty!” Jorik laughed.

“Ah, don’t start! Twenty-eight, thirty or thirty-two, it doesn’t matter. He is too young to be a seven-star warrior anyway and yet he already leads a team of three warriors on acrosaurus. The woman looked even younger, but everything on her screamed mystery and magic. And finally, the last one didn’t even remove his cloak, but his acrosaurus told plenty about his practice and hobbies. A team of an amazing warrior, a sorcerer and an assassin come to our camp accidentally,” she emphasized the word by mimicking quotes in the air with her hands, “and ask weird questions. This smells of danger and conspiracy from kilometers away. And wherever there is danger and conspiracy, the Ill Immortals are never far.”

Siraye’s speech rendered the two men silent. She glared at them as if to challenge any of the two to dare deny her words. In the end, Jorik took another bite of his breakfast before shaking his head.

“I have so many questions I don’t even know where to start.” He said.

“It’ll have to wait before we leave then, we’re on a short schedule today.” Siraye answered. “I’m gonna grab a fruit, and if you have an ounce of intelligence, you would do the same, lest you get poisoned by the Ill Immortals.”

She left them without another word, and Mahon and Jorik exchanged a knowing look before hurriedly finishing their breakfast. Once they were done, most of the merchants were already readying their carts with last-minute preparations while Edwin was pushing the last ones to get ready to leave as soon as possible.

Shortly after, the caravan left their campsite and drove towards their next stop, Stonewell. Mahon and Jorik joined Siraye on her cart after the caravan reached its cruising speed, and people started to relax. Edwin was imposing a quick pace, but it wasn’t so fast as to tire the muxales before they reached the city. They had planned to stay three days in Stonewell anyway, so the creatures would have plenty of time to rest after the long journey.

“You knew that the woman could wield magic?” Mahon asked once the trio was comfortably settled aboard Siraye’s cart.

Siraye chuckled. “I should be the one surprised you know about it given how you usually know nothing.” She taunted. “How do you think I’ve so many weapons?” She then gestured to the cart’s load behind her.

Mahon and Jorik looked at her with a puzzled look.

“I forged them. I’m a blacksmith like my father.” She said in a proud voice. “One of the swords my father created was even used by a seven-star warrior. I’ve studied in the capital, and my father got special orders from time to time. I’ve done some myself too. Obviously, I’d be able to spot a magic sword when I see one.”

“A magic sword?” Mahon and Jorik repeated, astounded.

“Yes! How else could I know she does magic? Wait. How did you know she was a sorcerer if you didn’t know about her magic sword?” Siraye asked and scrutinized their faces suspiciously.

“They were looking for us.” Jorik explained in the end. “They came to talk about the fire wielding goblin, and the woman invoked a flame in her hand. That’s how we know she’s a magician.”

“Not a magician.” Siraye corrected. “A sorcerer.”

She didn’t seem concerned at all by what Jorik had revealed, however.

“What’s the difference?” Mahon asked.

Siraye threw a look around her as if to check if someone could listen in on their conversation. After being sure there was no one within ear’s reach, she started her explanation.

“Both can do magic but not in the same way. Sorcerers are warriors that can increase their power by infusing their weapons or body with magic. That gives them stronger power and faster speed. Not every weapon can sustain such magic though, and that’s why you need to craft special weapons for them, otherwise it would break after a few fights.”

She eyed them to make sure they understood before continuing.

“A magician on the other hand is much rarer. Magicians are able to externalize their magic and throw them at the enemy. They aren’t like warriors and more like archers. Scholar archers even, if you believe how long you need to study to reach this level. Only old men hiding in their tower for decades have any hopes of throwing a fireball big enough to cause damage. That’s what makes the two-headed goblin an incredible oddity in the world of magic. No wonder the sorcerer was interested in it.”

“How can you know so much?” Mahon asked. “Even Elas didn’t know anything about it.”

“Elas?” Siraye snickered. “In the end, he has spent most of his life on the road. He had seen many things, that’s true, but not extraordinary things. I’ve lived in the capital all my life, and my father was a renowned blacksmith. Sorcerers don’t grow on trees. They’re very secluded and only work for nobles. Magicians are even rarer. Unless you’re a high noble, you’ll never spot one. Sorcerers rarely move out of their circle, but one of those exceptions is when they need to find a good magic weapon. And even then, it’s a rare sight.”

Siraye eyed the two men beside her with a proud smile. “What? You thought I was another country girl? I only travel via caravan to advertise my weapons and restock on rare materials, but I spent most of my time at the capital.”

“So you know where we can learn to do fire magic?” Jorik asked.

“Learn fire magic?” She bursted out laughing, but then she calmed down once she realized Mahon and Jorik were serious. “You don’t have any chance of learning fire magic if you don’t start before ten and show incredible affinity. Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re a decade too late.”

“A decade?” Jorik muttered with a frown.

It was too low for Siraye to hear it, but Mahon was sitting right next to the noble, and he didn’t miss it.

She really thinks we’re twenty years old. Like Edwin. And Elas. And Tharn.

The thought twirled in Mahon’s mind as he was reminded of all the time people had called him young. At first he had believed it was simply due to people being much older than him, or that it was related to a weird custom of Finem, but then, people started to mention ages or experiences, and he couldn’t help but feel there was something off.

What if Elas was only fifty and not four hundred? That would explain why he lacks so much wisdom and maturity.

What if that hooker back in Fayfell was only forty when I said she was eighty? She would have reacted the same way that other woman did when I was with Zac.

What if Virrion is only thirty as Siraye believes? What does that mean for Jorik and me?

The troubling thoughts plagued his mind for a few seconds, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Should we ask Siraye? Should I reveal I’m two centuries old?

But as he asked himself these questions, the answer immediately echoed in his mind. I don’t know her enough to risk it.

With a single glance at Jorik, Mahon knew the man was thinking about the same thing. At that moment, the noble turned back to him. Hiding his hand from Siraye, Mahon gestured to Jorik. Age weird.

Jorik acquiesced imperceptibly. Something wrong. Investigate?

Mahon shook his head in answer. Not now. Don’t trust.

Jorik frowned, but he finally nodded after a few seconds. Ok.

“Is there any other magic?” He asked Siraye instead, redirecting the conversation to their previous topic.

“Other magic? What do you mean?” Siraye threw him a puzzle look.

“Yeah. I don’t know. Earth magic for example?”

“Earth magic? Like moving the earth and everything?” She giggled at the thought. “No, it’s impossible! And besides we already have enough trouble with fire magic, there is no need to add more.”

“Trouble?”

“The reason there are so few sorcerers and magicians isn’t only due to the harsh entry requirements, but also because fire magic tends to turn people crazy over time. After some time, you go freak and eat more than you can chew. Father told me every old magic wielder is aggressive and defiant. They don’t trust anyone, even their own family and are prone to excessive fits of rage. When that happens, they can fight until they dry themselves to death with their magic. That’s stories he used to tell though, I’ve never seen it myself. I’ve never seen a magician actually, just a few sorcerers practicing with their magic sword when they came to the smithy. They never looked happy, though...”

The caravan continued its journey to Stonewell while Siraye continued sharing her experience with sorcerers and magicians to Mahon and Jorik that couldn’t be more pleased. They had never imagined Siraye would be the one to give them such knowledge, especially given they had spent most of their time with her in the last days, and thought they had learned about her already.

If the trio of warriors hadn’t joined them last night, they might have never known Siraye was so knowledgeable about magic because of her profession. Nonetheless, due to the circumstances, they managed to learn a lot about fire magic, and they also understood why they hadn’t heard about it before. According to her, only the capital, and maybe the two other biggest cities of Finem, had resident sorcerers and magicians.

One could not simply stumble upon them as they spent most of their time training or with the upper echelons of power. When they left on a mission, it was to go where no one else dared to go, and their craziness was often deterrent enough not to see them in other social circles except for a few individuals.

Siraye had met very few herself, and most of what she knew had come from her father who had apparently dealt repeatedly with some of them, although he always did in deepest secrecy. Siraye wasn’t sure why most of them preferred to hide, but she theorized it had to do with the power contest with the other nearby kingdoms. Sorcerers and magicians were such strong assets in warfare against other countries that it was best to keep hidden the exact number Finem had as well as their true power. Other kingdoms did the same.

Although it was just a theory, it seemed plausible enough for Mahon and Jorik. They had long learnt that the situation of Finem wasn’t all peaceful. They were on relatively good terms with their direct neighbor in the north, the kingdom of Ripa, but it wasn’t the case with their other neighbors. In the east, for example, laid the Rining Kingdom. It was governed by the Rining Dynasty, and with the last coronation of its king, the relationship between Finem and Rining had started to deteriorate and some skirmishes had already happened at the border.

While Mahon, Jorik and Siraye were lost in politics and societal considerations, the caravan continued forward a bit slower than what Edwin had wanted too. For a strange reason, many merchants had a stomach upset, causing some carts to stop along the road to satisfy its owner’s needs. In the meantime, the caravan had to slow down until the cart could catch up to them.

At first, it hadn’t been unusual, but as the breaks multiplied, people started to talk about rotten meat or stale water. Siraye, on the other hand, couldn’t be more convinced it was all due to the supposed group of Ill Immortals. She mocked Mahon and Jorik for foolishly eating their breakfast and waited with impatience that they contorted in pain and rushed behind bushes. Alas, her wish wasn’t granted and Mahon and Jorik were among the few who didn’t suffer from anything for the whole trip.

As a result of these interruptions, the caravan arrived very late in Stonewell, and they didn’t even have enough time to set up the market for the morning. Fortunately, since they were so close to a city, there was no need to prepare the camp in any defensive manner, nor to go far to get food and fresh water. As soon as they arrived, the cooks prepared a short dinner and then everyone went to sleep in anticipation of their opening early in the morning. Beside the capital, Stonewell was where they would be doing most of their gain, and no one was ready to lose any of it, stomach-aches or not.

Mahon and Jorik spent the night resting in Nightmare, discussing plans for their three days in the city. Siraye had visited it multiple times already, and she had agreed to take them on a tour of the important places if they agreed in exchange to serve as her bodyguards. She wasn’t afraid of being aggressed at all, but she knew very well how many thieves roamed the streets of Stonewell, and she hated to have to watch her stall while she discussed weapons with potential customers.

The deal had been quickly agreed on by Mahon and Jorik. They wanted nothing more than to learn everything they could about Finem, and even though Stonewell wasn’t the size of Lakefield, the capital city, it was still the third largest one in the kingdom. They knew there was much to watch, and now that they had secured a guide, they were confident they would finally be able to advance in their understanding of the kingdom.

There were still many unanswered questions they needed the answer to. Although they had probed discretely when they could, no one had ever heard about Amentiae. Also, to Finem’s people, Ratho was nothing but a myth, a legendary city lost in time. Yet, humans still lived in Ratho and continued to fend off Amentiae as of today.

Since they joined Finem, even more mystery had appeared along their journey. The Flow wasn’t well known in Ratho either, but they hadn’t even once heard about Earth magic in Finem, whereas it was common knowledge in Ratho even though few were interested in learning it.

On the other hand, fire magic didn’t exist in Ratho. Or if it did, it was even more secret than in Finem, but Jorik doubted it. And yet, they lived in the same world, only a poisonous forest apart. How was it possible for the environment to be so different? Was fire magic the reason Amentiae didn’t exist in Finem?