Mahon finished setting up his tent as the sun was slowly approaching the mountains on the horizon. It wasn’t the same tent he had used while he went scouting. This tent was a First Yellow tent, with a little yellow silverish flag floating above it.

From what he could see, the tents were following the same patterns as the residences back at school. The First Red had one tent for them all, while Ravatoris’ tent was bigger than theirs, and he was alone.

Mahon’s First Yellow tent was big enough for three people to sleep in, and that was taking into account he had already put all his stuff inside. Besides him, other First Yellow students finished setting up their tents, and he didn’t have to wait for long before a bell rang nearby.

Great. I’m starving.

He joined the group of eager students moving towards the source of the sound in silence. Jorik appeared at his side just a few seconds later. Mahon glanced at him without saying anything.

“How do you feel?”

Mahon held back a sigh. He already preferred Jorik the First Black over Jorik the nurse. The noble was just too bad at it.

“Better.” He said instead, and the silence between the two men grew into an uncomfortable one.

Mahon almost giggled internally at the obvious unease of the noble. In the end, he decided to speak his mind.

“Jorik.”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for helping earlier when I passed out. But I’m better now. Just go do your things. I can take care of myself.”

“I wish I could. But we’re on the same boat now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I vouched for you to Rym when we agreed to… work together. Now, I’m responsible for you, and since we ignored orders, we’re grounded.”

“Grounded?”

“I have to stay with you.” Jorik explained. “You know, make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Rym’s orders.”

“But who is watching you?” Mahon said.

“No one.” The noble smiled. “My family is theoretically too big for Rym to force someone onto me, even after such an event. But there will be some punishment.”

“Do the dishes or something?” Mahon guessed.

“Yes, something like that probably.” The noble shrugged. “A few small tasks aren’t big compared to what we accomplished.”

This got Mahon thinking. Did they really accomplish anything? The backer and the bodyguard were dead, but the counselor was still alive. If she was the one behind all this, then they didn’t really succeed. Again, would they have really been able to escape with their life if they had killed the counselor? Probably not.

Their tasks had only been to collect evidence and frame her, to prevent her from trying something like that again. In this regard, they might have succeeded to a minor extent. She’d probably think again before trying another such operation, knowing she had been close to getting caught in the aftermath of her schemes.

At least the Fada cult was completely destroyed. At what price, though? Zac had died.

Mahon connected back with reality as he arrived in front of the cooks handing out the plates. A man gave him one portion along with a glass of water and gestured he moved sideways for the others behind him to get their share.

Jorik pointed to the nearby tables, and the two students sat between groups of soldiers and students.

“First Black and First Yellow! Now we’ve got some ranks, hey!” A burly man said aloud as they started eating.

From his soldier uniform and badge, the man and his comrades were First White. There were half a dozen at Mahon’s table, eating and laughing while they observed or chatted with the students.

“First Black are the worst.” Mahon winked at him, and the soldier laughed out loud.

“Where are you from?” The soldier then asked, while moving closer.

“The Pine Hill Officer Institute.” Mahon answered while eating his meal.

The soldier let out a whistle of admiration. “You’re no shit, then. No wonder you’re so highly ranked as students. And pardon my rudeness if I offended you.”

Mahon chuckled while Jorik continued to eat in silence.

“Don’t worry about it.” Mahon waved off, and he saw the smile on the soldier’s face growing wider. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Klaern, First White. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand, and Mahon shook it without hesitation. “I’m Mahon.”

Interacting with soldiers is so much easier than nobles.

“You’ve been here for long?” He asked Klaern.

“Been a few years now.” The man nodded. “It’s your first time at the Walls?”

Mahon acquiesced, and Klaern flashed a large grin. “Want me to reveal some secrets, then?”

“Of course. We’re here for the secrets.”

“Hahaha! I like you, Mahon. There aren’t many secrets, actually. Life is peaceful around there. Mostly hanging out with people, sometimes patrolling atop the wall to show the insects we’re still around and that’s it.” The man paused with a conspirator look and moved closer to him before he continued. “Unless you roll the wrong numbers.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Mahon raised an eyebrow at that. “Roll the wrong numbers?”

“Yeah, you know, we’re still at war with the insects. We have to make sure they don’t try something big while we’re not looking. So we need to send scouts between the walls to see what it’s like down there. I went once. It was the most terrible experience, I’m telling you.”

Mahon nodded and gestured for the man to continue, and Klaern did with visible eagerness.

“The insects are constantly moving around. It’s hard to pinpoint their exact location. Only three out of four patrols go back from there alive. Walls three, four and five are supposed to make the battlefield, but the reality is that it’s closer to their territory than ours. Only the Shadows are willingly going there. Other people are chosen randomly. Once in a while you roll a die and if you get the wrong number, you have to scout.” The man shivered.

“Shadows? What are those?”

“They’re the bravest among us.” He leaned forward and whispered to Mahon. “Or the craziest, if you ask me.” He winked and spoke normally afterwards. “It’s a unit of soldiers specialized in scouting and Amentiae. They’re all at least First Green, and they go between the Walls at least a couple times a week.”

In other words, there are the people still fighting while others are lazing around.

“Where are they?” Mahon asked while looking at the other table if he could spot one of them.

Klaern laughed out loud. “These students, all the same! You’ll change your mind once you’ve been outside, I’m telling you. At first, everybody wants to see the Shadows, and then you just want to ignore them. Crazy people.”

Mahon chuckled at the man’s behavior. “And how is it outside, then?”

“Outside?” Klaern echoed. “I’ve not been there often, to be honest, but most things are still common knowledge. There are multiple Amentiae armies swiping the battlefield from east to west or west to east. One of the scout’s tasks is to keep track of these armies, and to make sure we have our own armies ready to deal with a sudden assault, should they test our defense.”

“Do they attack often?” Mahon asked, and although he kind of knew the answer, it was best to have it confirmed by someone who was on the battlefield in the flesh.

“Not really. I’ve been here for a couple of years now, and I’ve not seen one. But the Amentiae are apparently very daring nowadays. Some say they’re preparing something nasty. The truth is, we never know. We can just keep watch and be ready once they try something.”

Mahon acquiesced and continued to chat with the soldier while he ate. For the first time since he came back to Ratho, he was living the life he had imagined. He was months late, but he had always had this scene in mind when he had thought about his new life in Ratho. Him, discussing happily with some soldiers, exchanging news about the battlefield before he’d go there on his own and fight the Amentiae.

The situation hadn’t been exactly the first thing he had done in Ratho, but the memory flashed back suddenly, and he couldn’t prevent himself from thinking about everything that had gone differently to what he had imagined.

First, the war. If what the soldier had said reflected the real situation at hand, then most of the army was just walking up the sixth wall once in a while to show they were still there. The rest of the time, they lazed around in the camp, training, playing, and chatting with the other soldiers. A few unlucky were recruited to act as scouts, but that was it.

Unless you were a Shadow and fought more actively. Although, in the end, they were nothing more than voluntary scouts.

Then, Ratho. The city and its life were also very different from what he had thought. Mahon lacked everything in Nightmare, and he had kind of forgotten what it was like in real life. Ratho was far from the battlefield, and there were lots of things to do. Mahon had thought it impossible to ignore the war, but most of Ratho’s inhabitants did just that every single day of their lives.

For a time, Mahon had believed he could find his own carefree life among them. Alas, his own problem had caught up to him quickly. He was too bad at keeping friends alive. Margot died. Then she came back into his life to kill Zac. And he killed her. What kind of twisted fate was that?

I’m just not fit for relationships.

The dinner was a nice way to prevent his mind from going onto a dangerous slope, and he reflexively found back his place among soldiers. He almost felt home. The evening didn’t last long, and Mahon went back to his tent shortly after. He closed his eyes and appeared in Nightmare a few seconds later.

In the dreamy land, there was nobody to keep him distracted. There was nothing to think about but the past events.

Mahon took a deep inspiration and Flowed to ease his mind. He started the long walk to his usual meditation spot while thinking about everything that had happened to him.

I’m back at the start. With one more scar.

He had the same uneasy feelings that at the end of the Nightmare war. One part of him was eager to discover a new world, try new things and have an impact. Another was mourning his loss, idling nowhere, lost in grief.

Last time, Mahon had deemed it best to move forward without any attachment. A lone wolf had fewer problems. Alas, the Blue counselor had tricked him into something else. She had plotted, under the guise of kindness and friendliness, to make him bond again. And then she had worked again in the shadows to break his link.

She had deceived him and stabbed him in the back. What was the way forward now? Would he be able to walk alone again after having enjoyed the marvels of friendships?

I’m already alone.

There was Ash, waiting for them somewhere in Ratho, thinking about Zac. Did she know already? Mahon couldn’t face her. He didn’t have the strength to explain what had happened. To watch her face, as she realized Mahon had failed to protect her lover.

He couldn’t stay at school either. As much as Jorik was competent, he was still a noble. Mahon and him thought differently.

We don’t live in the same world.

He was sick of nobles in general. He was sick of school, and he couldn’t afford to go back to Ratho just now. The answer was then pretty simple.

Back to plan A. I’ll stay here and fight.

Now that he had some kind of plan, Mahon pushed these thoughts away. Was he again finding his salvation in fighting, like he had imagined he would do after Margot’s death? Probably, but he didn’t want to think too much about it. He didn’t want anyone to prevent him from choosing his own way. And above all, he didn’t want to tie to anyone again anymore.

I’ve been a fool to believe it’d be different here…

Mahon resumed his meditative posture and looked straight ahead. He had acted strong in Ratho and had to ease his mind first with a plan forward, but now that he was alone in Nightmare, his mask fell.

Zac…

A silent tear slowly rolled along his ethereal cheek, and he almost didn’t feel it. He smiled weakly and stayed there without moving for a long time, reminiscing about all the moments he had spent with Zac. All the laughs, all the jokes. The complicity. The hard times as well as the good ones.

Zac had always been there with him for most of the last six months. They had shared so much together. He had learnt a lot besides the noble, and without him, Mahon wouldn’t have been able to progress this fast. Zac had been the one to support him at school when everyone had turned his back on him. Zac had helped him understand Ratho and the ways of this unknown world.

He had made him discover music again and bought him his harmonica. He had found a way to bring back the Flow to him when Mahon was starting to lose patience. Zac had found a way to infiltrate the cultists and accompanied Mahon every instant.

Mahon bathed in every memory he had with Zac. The more he remembered, the more he realized Zac had simply been incredible. By the end of the night, a lot of tears had rolled on Mahon’s face, but he didn’t care. No one was here to see him, anyway. He raised his head to the always dark sky of Nightmare and addressed his last words.

Thanks, my friend. Farewell.

Then he smiled. A wide smile. A happy smile, even. Full of life.

A smile to honor Zac.