The sun had already set, and the sky was a cool, dark blue. The moon was rising, and the stars were waking up.

  Underneath this tranquil space, a swordsman and a novice mage traversed the mountain. Around them were bugs, and the occasional firefly illuminated their path. Albeit barely.

  Augustin carefully stepped after Zethir, his brows furrowed in focus. In the dark, one wrong step could mean being poked by a sharp rock. Or worse, “greeting” a snake. Looking up, he saw Zethir, casually walking forward as if they were on flatland, rather than a treacherous mountain.

  “Are you out of money?” Bored and frustrated, Augustin couldn't help but ask.

  Mercenaries were known for two things.

  One, they were a convenient and powerful force, if you pick the right mercenary.

  And two, they were money grubbers, chasing after gold like bees to nectar.

  Of course, there were some exceptions. Most elite mercenaries were well-off. Unless they spent money with their palms and pockets having gaping holes.

  “You know, there's a lot of other jobs out there… even the battle-type ones! I'll, I'll help you choose, so—”

  Zethir turned back, his eyes glowing in the dark. “You're so noisy.”

  Then, he turned back around, resuming his walk as if nothing had happened.

  Augustin stood still for a moment, his blood nearly running backwards.

  “Tsk.”

  He kicked something on the ground, putting his hands on his pockets. “Where are we going now?”

  “Fortress Arho. Fernando should be waiting there,” Zethir replied quickly, to Augustin's surprise.

  “Fort Arho…?” Augustin's shoulders slumped.

  He felt tired, even though he did nothing but run around during the battles. It wasn't that he was too scared to fight…

  ‘This level of fighting is beyond me, alright?!’ He rubbed his aching back, looking at the sky. Then, his eyes widened in amazement.

  “Wow… Hey, look at the stars,” he smiled, stopping for a second to admire the night sky.

  Above the cirrus clouds, the stars shined brightly, forming a river of diamonds in the sky. Stars could be seen from anywhere at night, but it was Augustin's first time seeing such a gathering of stars.

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  It was like the stars were all heading somewhere… somewhere unseen by mortals.

  “Hey, Zethir,” Augustin looked down, only to see Zethir looking up. Smiling, he walked next to the man. “Why do you think stars exist?”

  “They exist for a reason,” Zethir scoffed. “Don't utter nonsense about fate and destiny,” he said, looking down and resuming his march.

  Augustin giggled, rubbing the back of his head. “Weeeell… Think about it. What if, a star represented a person? What if, each time a star disappears, it means someone died?”

  Ahead of him, Zethir laughed hollowly, his tone void of amusement.

  “Ridiculous.”

  Augustin shrugged. “Just humor me, okay? It's not like we have anything else to do.”

  Zethir sneered. “Then, tell me. Where is my star?” He asked, his voice full of contempt… but Augustin saw that he slowed his somewhat rushed steps.

  Smiling, Augustin hurriedly caught up to him. “Look,” he pointed at the sky, his finger pointing at a clump of stars.

  Zethir slowed down a little bit more, until he could see where Augustin was pointing at.

  There, three peculiar stars were following the strange river of stars. The star at the front shined erratically. One moment, it was shining brightly. The next, it would dim, as though about to die out.

  The one behind it was calmer in comparison, though its brightness was a little duller than the first star.

  Finally, the last star, the one behind both, was the smallest of the three. Yet, it shined the brightest.

  “The one at the front is you,” Augustin sighed, patting Zethir's shoulder. Zethir's lips twitched, and he nearly reached out for his sword.

  “The one in the middle is Marco,” Augustin said, smiling. Though, his eyes downturned a little.

  “And the last star is, you guessed it, me!”

  Zethir glanced at the noisy bird beside him, rolling his eyes. “Why is it you? That star is shining brighter than me, but you… you're trash.”

  Augustin choked on his spit. Coughing, he rubbed the bottom of his nose and said, “Well, I have a bright future. And let me tell you, I'm a genius!”

  “I know,” Zethir nodded, “And I'm a god.”

  Then, he walked ahead of Augustin, deliberately walking in front of the pouting mage. “Now, be quiet, genius. We're almost there.”

  Augustin just opened his mouth when he heard this. Reluctantly, he ironed out his face, steeling his heart while he was at it.

  But then, he realized something.

  “Wait,” he frowned. “We're nearly there? Fort Arho is that close?”

  Zethir hummed in affirmative. “Fortress Arho protects the City of Jarmo,” Zethir glanced at Augustin. “You were born in Jarmo, why don't you know this?”

  Augustin bashfully looked away. “I… I was focused on studying.”

  “Ha,” Zethir didn't believe him.

  However, contrary to Augustin's expectations, the two of them walked for the entire night without a trace of a fortress nearby.

  By now, Augustin was tired both physically and mentally. So much so that his legs were about to give out.

  Zethir frowned at him. “It's because of you that we're taking so long.”

  Augustin looked at Zethir, his eyes unkind. ‘What do you mean?! We walked like we were being chased by a lion! I'm a magez for fuck sake!’

  Gulping down a dozen curses, Augustin tried to speak, only to be reminded of his dry throat.

  “Tsk, here,” Zethir reached for his waist, only to tap his empty belt.

  “Hm?” He looked down, finding nothing. “...I dropped my water gourd. Don't worry, we're nearly there.”

  Then, without changing expressions, he turned around, resuming their walk.

  “Wait…” Augustin gasped out, his voice raspy like a dying old man.

  Zethir froze. “Get ready!” He yelled, and without wasting another moment, he bolted off.

  Augustin remained still like a statue, watching Zethir disappear from sight. Gritting his teeth, he forced his aching legs to move, chasing after the man.

  The wind howled in his ears as he ran, and the more he ran, the more his blood ran cold. The hair on his arms stood on end, and his nostrils stung with the stench of metal. His ears twitched at the sound of swords colliding, and the screams of dying men.

  Finally, when he saw Zethir again, he was hiding behind a tree and some bushes.

  “Ha… Ha…” Augustin half collapsed on the ground. “What's going on?”

  “Arho is done for,” Zethir whispered, his eyes wide open.

  The sun was starting to rise, casting a gentle light upon the world.

  Lying on its lonesome, a stone fortress stood with broken walls and towers. Hundreds of wordsmen rushed out of the fortress like wasps defending their nest.

  Meanwhile, a dozen spearmen rushed in like hornets, killing a swordsman with a swing of their spear. Their weapons glowed a blue hue, and their eyes shone like sapphire amidst the bloody violence.

  Finally, as if things couldn't get worse, a barrage of arrows rained down from the trees, nailing the pitiful swordsmen who tried to resist.

  In a battle against an army, the dozen elite spearmen slaughtered as they wished.

  Zethir's hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, but his ruby-like eyes flashed with hesitation.

  Seeing him like that, Augustin peeked through the bushes, paling when he saw the sight.

  “... let's, let's go back. Come on, that's a dozen elites!” Augustin tugged at Zethir's cloak.

  “Go… back?” Zethir mumbled.

  “Just because they're stronger?” His eyes flickered, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

  His heart pounded against his ribs, and his eyes darkened with fury.

  “I'll never step back. Never… again…” Zethir dashed off, leaving Augustin behind, his hand still outstretched in a vain attempt to hold Zethir back.

  But, just for a moment, he swore.

  That he saw Zethir's eyes glistening with tears.