The jungle where Enyah's group and the carriage shone from above through gaps in the trees. The jungle was letting up, signaling the periphery. Only a few hours until they left the jungle.

  Though impatient to continue, Enyah stopped at the voice's request. They had questions, probably about the port. She wouldn't mind getting some of her questions answered as well. Especially about the world beyond the jungle.

  She checked her purse. It was decently filled with enough coin. More than enough for the information she needed. Though enough to survive two months on the run? Enyah shook her head. Best not think about that. Knowledge, especially from merchants, was well worth its weight in gold.

  Merchants were similar to mercenaries, but felt they were superior. In terms of low life money grubbing professions, merchants were the brain to mercenaries brawn.

  Yet, they needed each other. When merchants needed a guard, they'd call a mercenary. Some of the big merchant guilds of Parit had their whole guard made from former mercenaries, who chose a life of stable pay.

  Traitors, mercs call those who abandoned their life to be dogs.

  Enyah was inclined to agree. That coachman? A traitor. And he knew it.

  “Stay on Zarts, kid. He’ll protect you.” Enyah told Rinne, who gave an enthusiastic nod, and Zarts chirped along. Satisfied, Enyah leapt off the lizard cleanly, landing to her feet. Though she was ready to converse, she wouldn’t put it past a merchant to sell her out for enough coin.

  She narrowed her eyes, keeping her hand on her sheathed cutlass. With tentative steps, she moved towards the carriage.

  “Move along already.” The coachman muttered, rolling his eyes at her caution.

  “Don’t talk, mutt.” Enyah growled at the man, pausing her steps. A man who willingly became a lapdog earned no respect from her.

  “What’d you say?” He raised his voice, his green eyes glaring at her. He was easily provoked by the word, bristling in defense.

  Enyah smirked in superiority. “I said, you’re a mutt. And your master didn’t permit you to speak.”

  His face turned red in anger, much to her amusement. The way his face fell and his brows crinkled brought her an unnatural sense of elation. Serves him right.

  “You think you're so tough because you think you ain't chained?” He sneered, looking down at her from atop the carriage. “You just don't know it. Your owner changes with every job, but you're still on a leash. We're the same, Mutt.”

  “Think what you want.” Enyah snarled, “You don't see me taking any orders like some servant. Even if we're both dogs, I'm not some muzzled, mangled wretch.”

  “Hmph.” He continued, his eyes blazing in fury. “That boy there. Is he your charge?” The man motioned to Rinne with his head. “Would you lick his feet if he threatened to cut your pay? You're no–”

  “Richard, don't keep my guests waiting!” The voice interrupted, ignorant of the contents of their conversation. “Don't waste my money, or I'll set you free.”

  “Yes sir…” Richard called with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hands. His fierce expression dimmed, holding maybe a hint of regret that mixed into his anger. “Go on in, but watch your back. If he gives the word…” he unsheathed part of his longsword, that hung limply from his sheathed hip.

  An attempt at intimidation that only made Enyah snicker. “Ooh. So scary. See you later, mutt.” She walked towards the carriage, whispering past her as she went. “Maybe I'll ask your master to give you a bone if you’re good.”

  “Shut up and go.” He spoke through gritted teeth, looking away from her. Enyah let out a laugh, opening the carriage with glee and stepping inside.

  The cabin was its own world, a lavish paradise within the harsh jungles. With tinted windows dimming the outside, one could only observe carefully if they truly wanted to see through them. Even the air itself seemed to be filtered somehow, removing the moist, humid air from her surroundings. Replacing it was a sweet, almost citrus scented air.

  The cushions were plush, softer than her beloved couch. She’d bet it felt like lying on a cloud.

  Sitting on one of the cushions was a middle aged man with a bald head and a large, hairy mustache. His eyes were narrowed and self assured, the look of a schemer. He wore an expensive suit, signifying his success as a merchant.

  Enyah looked carefully at him. Why would someone like that visit the port? Especially at a time like this?

  “Come in, Mercenary! Sit down for a second.” The man greeted warmly, his tone vastly different compared to when he was yelling at his guard. “I've much to discuss with someone like you. Someone local to these parts is quite important indeed.”

  “You shouldn't have come during these times.” Enyah responded evenly, though taking up on his offer. Sitting down on the cushions, she felt heaven, yet kept her face perfectly neutral. How she longed to indulge in the comfort of the cushion, yet she had pressing matters to attend to. “A stampede's coming. Soreado isn't safe.”

  “Ah, thank you for letting me know, my good mercenary, but in crisis comes opportunity” The man smirked, stroking his chin and nodding.

  Enyah rolled her eyes internally. “What a… confident man.”

  “Of course, let me introduce myself.” The man continued, putting a hand on his chest with pride. “I am one Francie Halton. I'm sure I can satisfy any request. For the right price.”

  Enyah didn't recognize the name. Then again, merchants weren't that important to remember unless you're unreliable.

  “Enyah. I work in Pallor's Port.” She responded curtly.

  A man attempting to use the port's catastrophe for his benefit was definitely an enemy of hers.

  “Wonderful! Good. No, great! Tell me, do you really have waterproof jellyfish?” He inquired, his eyes sparkling with a devilish sheen.

  “Yes, we do. You'd be better off going to the port instead of talking to me if that's what you want to know.” Enyah stated, leaning back on the cushions.

  She could lay here all day, yet responsibility would always get in her way.

  “That's fine, that's fine. I simply wanted to be sure.” Francie said, writing something down in a notebook. A small, hand sized book that he seemed to carry around in his pocket.

  “Now I'll ask a question.” Enyah said, looking into Francie's inquiring eyes as he looked up from his notebook.

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  “Oh yes, do go on.” Francie nodded, pausing his writing to spread his arms out in invitation.

  “What are your intentions with the port?” Enyah asked heavily, her eyes deadly serious. If need be, she'd strike him down right here.

  Yet the man remained unperturbed by her threat. His eyes flashing in the carriage with a dangerous gleam while a grin sprouted onto his face. “Why, I just desire to help! For a price, of course. I'm willing to use my personal, elite guard to contribute to defending the port for a share of gold and a pinch of the spoils. Good trade, yes?”

  Enyah tilted her head, considering. It didn't seem like a bad trade. She wasn't the one paying, after all. Any help would be appreciated, but “the port might not see it that way.”

  “You're intending to ask Gold Rick for payment?” Enyah asked.

  “If you mean Eustice Rick, the mayor of Pallor's Port, I most certainly am.” Francie spoke with forbidden words. Nobody calls him Eustice and gets away empty handed. That man is as petty as petty gets.

  That was good. Enyah smirked to herself. “Captain Rick values his gold more than his life. Let this merchant have a bit of loss.”

  “Now, let me ask.” He continued, unaware of her thoughts, “How is the port? Its people? Are they scared? Hiding in their homes in paranoia, trembling like mice in front of a snake.”

  Enyah bristled at those words. She released a growl, aimed towards the man, “Are you calling my people cowards?”

  “I wouldn't dare, my good lady! Yet your face gave me the answers I needed.” Francie laughed jovially, though his eyes remained focused, eying her like a snake. “Now what would you like to know, dear lady? You wouldn't wander inside and answer my questions to be nice, would you?”

  “A few questions. First. Do you have a map of Orlent?” Enyah asked, ignoring his demeaning words. Maybe he'd anger Rick enough that he'd wake up as fish bait.

  “I do indeed, but it'll cost you plenty in gold.” Francie smiled leisurely, lounging back against the cushions. “However, you answered my questions, and with my boundless generosity (as long as it makes gold), I've decided to bestow it onto you for free as repayment!”

  “No thanks, I'd rather pay.” Enyah rolled her eyes. Being in debt to this prowler of a man meant she'd have to see him again.

  “No, no. I insist. Here! Take it!” Francie took out a map from a shelf underneath the cushion. With a quick glance, she saw a whole stack of them there, mass printed and made to look unique. Francie had the decency to show a sheepish smile when he noticed she saw, before quickly shifting back to business. “Now what else will you ask? This time, it will cost you.”

  “What’s the situation in Ollenia?” Enyah asked. She knew the risks of asking, but it was worth it.

  “Off to Ollenia, are you? This isn't the time for a leisurely trip, my lady.” He grinned, placing his hand out in front of her. “Five gold pieces.”

  “Five gold pieces!?” Enyah raised her voice in response. That was as much as her home's rent! Even still, she begrudgingly paid. The information would decide her future actions, after all.

  “Thank you very much!” Francie sang, counting the coins before hiding them somewhere on his body. Then, he started explaining. “All the guards have been mustered, searching for something. Or someone. The citizens hide, scared of the unknown threat while neither the guards nor the royals give a reason. Their only clue was given by Princess Rarilly, who explained they were searching for a fugitive.”

  Taking a deep breath, he continued talking. “However, the religious underground also shows movements as well, even butting heads with the knights they usually bow down to. There were skirmishes, fights on the streets, even deaths. The princess is using this momentum to strike down those cults from the capital. Soon, only Drasilian will remain. Though the knights are tight lipped, those zealots aren't as fanatic as they think, Ha!”

  Enyah felt a bad premonition which only intensified with his next words. “They say there's a hidden son of the king. One that nobody knows about, and whose existence isn't known to the world. And it's because he's a vessel. Now all the cults, all the religions are looking for him. Even the unfaithful can get a pretty coin if they sell him to the proper buyer. So all of Lakreia’s looking for this boy, and the only piece of information they have is that he’s a silver haired boy guarded by one, single knight.”

  His smile turned venomous, knowing. Enyah felt her blood chill in response to that smile.”Is that enough to satisfy you, dear lady?”

  “Yes. Yes it is.” Enyah replied absentmindedly. She was absorbed in her thoughts. Of course the child was Rinne. She wasn't a fool. And if merchants knew about the vessel, then so did everyone else. Enyah sighed internally, coming to a conclusion.

  “Great, so the world's against me.”

  Should she just drop the kid off back in the port? Forget it happened? “No. I can't.”

  So be it. She'll simply kill every zealot who tries to stop them.

  “Is that all that you wanted to ask, dear lady?” Francie asked, staring intently at her every move. Enyah liked him less and less with each word he spoke.

  “Tell me more about vessels.” She enquired, taking a moment to calm her expressions. Her mind, though, raced with negative thoughts. “Look at you, Enyah. Acting like a rookie again.”

  “Vessels… Hmm. A dangerous topic indeed!” Francie spoke knowingly, a calm smile on his face. “For you, my dear, it'll be 15 gold pieces!”

  “Tsk.” Enyah pondered, asking herself if it were worth the price.

  She already knew the basic information on vessels… did she need to learn any more?

  “No. I'm just a guard. My only priority is protecting the boy.”

  “No thank you. That's enough for me.” Enyah growled, hiding her disdain for the man. That didn't stop her from staring him down, boring into his snakelike eyes. They stared for a few moments, before Francie backed down naturally, as if their standoff was only a facade.

  “A shame. A real shame indeed.” He sang, unperturbed. Enyah stood up, hesitantly leaving the cushions that felt like a dozen blankets stacked upon each other.

  “Yeah. A real shame.” Enyah muttered, rolling her eyes. Definitely a merchant, warts and all. “Don't hate him, Enyah. You know how merchants are.”

  That thought brought her emotions down. All merchants were as infuriating as this one. And he'd been nothing but helpful. “Yet… treating him with respect is hard.”

  “Thank you, Francie. I learned a lot.” Enyah thanked him, ready to open the door and continue their journey. She felt an itch inside, that wasting time was detrimental. Especially in a world of comfort such as this. It felt like vile temptation. Any longer here and she'd turn soft.

  “No, thank you! My friend! My lady! However, before you go, One last piece of advice for you. For free.” Francie spoke again, though his voice now held a taunt, laughing at her from all sides. “Operite's been strange. Too strange. The villagers were very suspicious of me, asking to search my carriage and all that. They'd mutter and whisper and stare. Of course, I'm not unused to such…temptations, but oh my, I haven't even done anything yet there. They're scared. Of something.”

  Enyah's eyes flashed at the word of Operite. Of course, trouble always stalks her. Always. Still, with any luck, they'd be in and out of the town in a flash without any trouble, letting Zarts recharge before continuing their journey.

  “Now get out of my carriage! Money must not be wasted!” Francie raised his voice, breaking through her thoughts like paper. He opened the door, inviting her out with a pointed look, as if saying “Our business is done. Why are you still here?”

  Roughly leaving the carriage, she found Richard, the coachman, staring down Rinne, who glared right back at him. Whatever conversation they had was known only to them.

  “Come on, Rinne, get ready to go.” Enyah called, breaking their concentration. He was already ready, and she knew that. She just wanted to see Richard’s reactions.

  “Yes miss!” Rinne responded, excluding her name. Smart kid. She ruffled his cloaked head, and he giggled.

  “How have you been, Zarts. Have you been good? Of course you have.” She hugged the lizards’ massive face, feeling his cold, smooth scales against her skin. It calmed her emotions, simmering her anger that always lingered under her skin. Zarts was always the best medicine for her.

  He chirped with jubilant excitement, brushing His feathered crown against her. His eyes sparkled, begging for a cleaning.

  “We'll do it later. Don't worry.” Enyah stroked his green plates with a gentle caress.

  Probably sensing the change in her mood, Richard sneered at her, a sharp grin on his face, “Have a nice conversation? Maybe i'll have a new companion so–”

  “We must get going, Richard! Get a move on! You can talk to yourself outside of hours!” The sharp voice echoed from within, admonishing the coachman yet again. “And if anything happens, dear mercenary. It isn't personal, just business.”

  “Yes boss…” Richard's face fell, and he looked away from Enyah, else his lips would loosen and argue once again.

  With a crack of the reins, the carriage was off, meandering down the path at a slow, but steady pace. They'd definitely be able to reach the checkpoint before nightfall.

  Conflicted thoughts rose as she saw the strange merchant's departure.

  On one hand, any help to the port during their crisis would be appreciated. A few retired mercenaries taking down some creatures are better than no retired mercenaries at all.

  On the other hand, Francie was a no-good, yellow bellied, lying, know it all, egotistical rat. And she didn't like him.

  “Tsk. Crash and die.” She muttered under her breath. He knew too much anyway. And anyone with enough coin go pay would know who and where she was soon enough.

  Soon the carriage became a blot in the jungle, and eventually it vanished down the path, absorbed into the jungle's invasive growth. Only then did she start moving again.

  “Did he see under your cloak?” Enyah asked with intensity, leaping back onto Zarts' back.

  “No ma'am! I made sure to keep it hidden!” Rinne saluted with a cloak covered arm, it's length too large for his small frame.

  “Good lad.” Enyah nodded her head, focusing her gaze onto the road ahead. Perched back onto her rightful place, the lizard began moving. Starting with a trot into a full sprint along the trees, yet they only grew less and less as they went, reaching the periphery.

  A new environment revealed itself. Instead of a thick, lush jungle, only a few large trees dotted their sides, covered in a thick, tall grass that hid whatever small creatures that lived in this area.

  The afternoon sun peeked through the branches, lighting up the area with a golden sheen.

  After almost two days in the jungle, it was a welcoming sight.

  Operite was close. Enyah could practically see the end of the jungle. And with it, new horizons. Places she hasn't been to in almost a decade.

  A world of uncertainty lies ahead, with only a map to guide them, and strangers abound. Most of whom would gladly trade Rinne away for any amount of coin.

  She gripped her cutlass beside her and felt Zarts below her, trotting without fear. Only confidence filled her.

  She had nothing to worry about.

  “I'll take whatever comes our way.”