She led them through the streets of Stonewell with assurance. The market closing time was actually not that late, and the evening had just started so they had plenty of time to enjoy the city. Even though the market would open early in the morning the next day, they didn’t have to prepare much to open the stall and so they could enjoy the night without worry.

“First, I need a beer, and then we can go wherever you want.” Siraye said.

She pointed to a bar barely a hundred meters away from the imposing doors of the city. Inside, the streets were large enough that three carts could go side by side without touching each other. Just behind the door, it was the business district, and multiple bars, hostels, and shops laid in the nearby streets.

Even though there were so many, Siraye hadn’t spared the bars a single glance, and she had directly led them further away to the bar they were entering now. It looked exactly like all the others, but Siraye had guaranteed it was way better, and unlike the others, it wasn’t trying to extort tourists.

Once inside, the trio found an empty table, and Siraye paid for the first three beers.

“So. What do you want to see?” She said after relaxing in her seat, half her beer already empty.

The day had been long for her, but she didn’t seem tired at all, and instead she bored a happy expression and satisfied smile from her day of work.

“Is there anything related to the Fada? Or to magic?” Mahon asked.

“Wow, I may have over praised the city before if your expectation is so high.” She said with a light laugh. “First of all, there is no magic thing you can visit. Even in the capital. Real magic is elusive and secret, you can’t find it even if you want to. At most I can bring you to the Drunken Dancer district, there are street performers that can create some sparks. That’s the most magic you’ll be able to see here or at the capital.”

“And about the Fada?” Mahon continued, a bit disappointed.

“This, I can do! Ever heard about the Great Fresco before?” Siraye answered without hesitation.

“The Great Fresco?” The two men shook their heads.

“Yes. I can’t really describe it. You’ll have to see for yourself! I know a bit of the backstory, though. The legends say that when Lakefield was only a simple village, the Fada came to Finem. There were a lot of Fada, and in order not to disturb the humans, they chose to build a city beside it, and here comes Stonewell. The old center of Stonewell is very different from the rest of the city, and people believe it was actually built by the Fada. They also painted a gigantic wall fresco, now called the Great Fresco, to depict their meetings with the humans.” Siraye explained.

“There is actually something like this?” Jorik was flabbergasted.

“Wait, you said there were a lot of Fada? Weren’t they only twelve?” Mahon interrupted.

“That’s why people tend to doubt this story, it’s actually not very clear on the Fresco. The twelve are clearly depicted, but there seems to be a larger group accompanying them, as if the twelve were just the commanders or something. But I’ve said enough! You’ll see by yourself and draw your own conclusion.” Siraye said with enthusiasm.

The trio finished their beer and exited the tavern under Siraye’s lead a few minutes later. Mahon felt a shiver of excitement at the prospect of learning more about Finem and especially the Fada. It was obvious there was a close relationship between the Fada, Ratho and the Amentiae, but until now they hadn’t been able to find anything about it. Now that they had stumbled on such a good opportunity, he was elated to discover more.

Alas, something tingled in his mind long before they reached the Great Fresco.

“We’re followed.” Mahon stated bluntly after they had just been walking for a hundred meters.

He hadn’t even tried to look for anyone following them, but the men weren’t that discreet, and it hadn’t been that long since he had done secret operations with the Fada cultists for months. Making sure he wasn’t being tailed had been so crucial at that time, that he had kept doing it unconsciously as he was back to an environment very akin to Ratho.

“What? Why?” Siraye asked with a dumbfounded look.

“Who?” Jorik inquired instead, having long learned not to doubt Mahon’s senses.

“Five men. A dozen meters behind on the right. Tall, muscular, fending off the crowd. Don’t look very sympathetic.”

“I see them.” Jorik nodded.

“Hey, guys. Stop it.” Siraye intervened. “Why would anyone follow us? You’re just getting paranoid because you’ve never been to such a large city. Everybody goes the same way. It’s only natural that some people would follow the same path as we do for a bit.”

The two men gave her a skeptical look.

“Fine. You don’t mind we take this dark alley and wait for them to pass us then?” Mahon asked as he pointed to a less busy street on their right.

She chuckled, thinking he was joking, but she quickly realized he wasn’t. “Seriously? Come on! I accepted to be your guide, but it’ll take forever if you keep acting like frightened rustic boys!”

“Indulge us, just this time.” Jorik pushed her in the nearby alley.

She sighed loudly, but she finally gave up and walked inside. Mahon and Jorik followed behind and they walked for a bit, turning randomly left and right, each time choosing the street with the least passerby. When they finally reached an impasse with no one around, they stopped.

“And now what?” Siraye asked in a frustrated tone.

“Now we wait.” Mahon commanded without offering any more explanation.

“I don’t even know where we are anymore.” Siraye complained. “I know the city, but not every street. It’ll take forever to find our way back. You’re…”

“They’re coming.” Mahon interrupted. “Eight men, now. With weapons.”

“How do you know?” Siraye showed a confused face. “If it’s a joke, I don’t find it very funny.”

Both Mahon and Jorik ignored her, instead they moved so that they would be between her and the people coming and checked their weapons. A few seconds later, a group of eight men appeared in front of the impasse.

They were all burly and heavily armed. They each had a breastplate, helmet and leg armor. Five of them carried swords while two had wooden sticks with small bows. As for the last one, the trio recognized him immediately.

“What a coincidence! We meet again.” A blond, arrogant noble with a bandaged hand walked forward leisurely.

“You?!” Siraye immediately got angry. “You really want to lose your manhood, don’t you?”

“Hahaha. It seems you don’t understand how things have changed.” He gestured with his thumb to the seven warriors behind him. “You shouldn’t have attacked me so brazenly. Didn’t you think of the consequences?”

The group of men laughed naughtily at the noble’s words.

“Oh, not again.” Mahon sighed loudly.

As if the interruption made the noble realize only now that Siraye wasn’t alone, he eyed Mahon and Jorik from top to bottom. “Get out of here. I’m only interested in the woman.” He then ordered.

“What will you do to her?” Jorik asked, clearly pissed off at the noble’s attempt.

“What will we do to her?” The noble repeated before glancing wickedly at his men. He snorted, and the whole group bursted out laughing again. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain. Only you seem a bit too young to have much experience, so you better ask your mommy first.”

“He’s gonna teach her how to use a sword.” A warrior yelled behind the noble while placing his hand to his crotch in a very suggestive manner, and the whole group cackled.

“Ok, I’ve got enough of this.” Jorik grunted. “First of all, I don’t know what you all have with my age, but I’m seventy, and I banged more chicks than all of you combined. Second, if you gang at eight versus a single woman, it says a lot about your own masculinity, and you should maybe work on that first. And third, even if you do, you should actually have the strength to back up your words, which is not even your case and will never be.”

Jorik walked forward and unsheathed his sword while the warriors were still laughing. As they realized Jorik was really pissed off and coming at them with a sword, they turned serious. One of the warriors came forward and drew his own sword.

“I’m a four-star warrior, boy. If you can defend against my attacks for ten seconds, I might let you go with just a few punches.”

Jorik didn’t even answer, instead he sped up his pace and rushed to the warrior. The man read Jorik’s trajectory and stabbed forward to where he would be a second later. Somehow, he didn’t try a lethal attack right off the bat, and it was probably what saved him. If he hadn’t done so, Jorik wouldn’t have shown any mercy either.

The warrior’s sword only touched empty air as Jorik had long anticipated the action and had twisted his shoulder to dodge the sword. He then punched at the man’s face with the hilt of his sword, and the man was sent three steps back, a few of his teeth flew along the way. He collapsed, unconscious, at the feet of his comrades.

Jorik didn’t stop, and he continued forward to meet the group.

“Easy, Jorik!” Mahon called from the back, grimacing at the powerful punch. “Don’t kill anyone.”

“Kill him!” The noble yelled on the other side as he pointed to Jorik.

The two men with the weird bows released their arrows, but Jorik dodged the first and parried the second without stopping his advance. The four other warriors rushed forward to meet him, but Jorik dodged all of their attacks and sent them on the ground in four simple punches. Although he didn’t aim to kill, he didn’t go easy on them either.

“Why do they use baby bows?” Mahon asked Siraye on the side. “Is that easier to use in town or something?” He mused out loud.

“The baby bows?” Siraye looked at him with a puzzled look. “You mean the crossbows?!”

In the meantime, Jorik arrived at the archers’ side and easily kicked them to submission. Once the whole band except for the noble was lying unconscious on the ground, Jorik disarmed the noble with a swift swipe of his sword, and grabbing him by the balls, he dragged him all the way to Siraye.

The man hadn’t even got the time to realize what had happened, and how his elite group of warriors had been dispatched by a nobody with extreme ease, that he was already lying in front of a frowning and angered Siraye.

Although the woman hadn’t been ready for such a scene either, she at least knew that Mahon and Jorik were formidable warriors. She would have never imagined Jorik alone would be able to handle a whole group of four-star warriors as effortlessly as he did, but she was quicker to adapt.

“What did you say previously about the consequences of our action? I don’t remember.” Siraye eyed the noble laying at her feet with a sadistic smile.

“It’s just a misunderstanding!” The man tried to explain, but Siraye didn’t buy it.

“Do you have a dagger?” She asked Jorik.

Jorik shook his head, and as Siraye turned to Mahon, he shook his head too. She raised her eyes to the sky and walked to the unconscious body of one of the warriors. She searched his body and quickly found a dagger. She spun it in her hands with expertise and came back to the still lying noble with a satisfied smile.

“What are you gonna do?” Mahon asked with a worried look.

“What do you think? I’m a caravan merchant, I’m not afraid of anyone, and I’m especially pissed off when machos try to act tough. So I’m going to do exactly what I told him I would if he came back. Emasculation.” Siraye answered with a straight face.

“What??!! No! Please!”

The noble immediately tried to move away, but Jorik held him with an iron fist. Seeing he couldn’t escape, he moved to his knees and begged as Siraye approached him.

“Isn’t it a bit too much?” Mahon intervened again.

“By the Fada, he was going to rape me! He should be lucky I don’t kill him straight!”

“She was the target. She chooses the punishment.” Jorik chimed in, with a look in Mahon’s direction.

“Don’t worry boys,” she chuckled, “when you’re a young woman selling weapons in a caravan, you quickly learn how to get respect. It ain’t my first time doing this, and probably not the last either.”