Starla clutched the straps of the travel bag slung over her back. Behind her, two servants worked together to carry out her trunk. They were in the front courtyard where a carriage was waiting. It had a contractable roof, which was down currently because the day was so nice, so right now it looked like an extremely fancy wooden wagon.

In front of the carriage stood Uncle Treion and Khastri. She speed-walked forward and wrapped both of them in a hug. Uncle Treion’s strong bear hug combined with Khastri’s iron grip made her almost regret hugging them both at once. Almost.

The embrace ended and they said quick goodbyes. Khastri ruffled her hair and Uncle Treion quickly wiped a tear from his eye. She smiled and stepped into the wagon- carriage- and the driver bowed his head to her and snapped the reins. As they drove off, she turned around and saluted Khastri. With a wink and a grin, he saluted her right back before bending at the waist in a formal bow. She laughed and waved one last time before turning back forward, facing the journey ahead.

‘I think… I think this is the beginning of a brand-new chapter,’ she thought.

…

Viren woke up abruptly. Perhaps it was the loud noises coming from beneath the floor of his room. ‘What is that?!’ after a moment he identified it as laughter and voices. He got up with a ‘mmph’ and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

He didn’t spend long waking up. Soon he slipped out his door and down the stairs. He hadn’t gotten a chance to explore the inn much yesterday. The bottom floor consisted of a large central room, where the main counter and stairs were. On either side of the central room were two large wings extending out. One had a fireplace and some comfy chairs, and the other featured a shelf filled with various odds and ends. Both rooms were filled with tables and chairs. And people. Lots of people. ‘Well, that explains the noise.’

A glance out the large windows in the central room told Viren that it was evening. He walked to the counter. There was a different person there than before. “Some dinner, please.” The man behind the counter nodded and wrote something down in a small notebook. Viren left to find a seat.

He chose to sit at the very end of one of the long tables in the right wing, the one with the shelf. He settled on the bench and a coupe minutes later a waitress came with his soup. While he ate, he contemplated what to do next.

‘After dinner maybe I’ll check out the city. Hopefully it’s a good place for mercenary work.’

His thoughts were interrupted by a plate of chicken thunking down across from him. Viren looked up in surprise, meeting the eyes of the man who placed it. The man was tall, and very muscled. He was clean shaven and looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties. He also wore a black jacket. He nodded at Viren.

“That’s a fine sword you have there.” Something about his voice reminded Viren of Kauhea. Someone who was cruel for the sake of it and hurt others because they could. “Do you know how to use it?” the man continued. Viren was silent for a moment, thinking.

“Somewhat,” he said. “Though,” he added with a false chuckle, “It certainly isn’t my best skill.” The man laughed, though there was no mirth in the sound. Perhaps cruel amusement at the least.

“Tell me,” he said, “Why’s a youth like yourself sitting alone? Shouldn’t you be surrounded by friends?” Viren shrugged but gave no answer.

“Who taught you to use the sword?” the man asked. Viren shrugged again and quickly drank the rest of his soup, chugging directly from the bowl. Then he got up to leave. ‘I’m definitely not hanging around this guy.’ Unfortunately, the man moved to block him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m trying to get away from a bad smell,” Viren responded automatically. He winced inwardly. ‘Well, there goes any chance to escape.’ He sighed. ‘Not like it was likely in the first place.’

Meanwhile, the man’s face hardened. His lips tightened, and his hands curled into fists. Viren took two steps to the side, making one last effort to avoid conflict, only to find himself boxed in by two more men, each different in appearance but also wearing a black jacket.

With a table to his back and three men in front of him, there was only one more option. Viren lowered his stance slightly, ready to fight. The other men hadn’t drawn their weapons, so he wouldn’t either. Plus, his sword wouldn’t be very helpful in such close quarters.

The first man moved slightly, preparing to attack, so Viren lunged forward. His fist was centimeters from the man’s face when one of the other men grabbed his wrist a whirled him around. Viren was about to twist and duck under his arm to escape when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards, out of the man’s grip.

Viren whirled around, fist already swinging. He caught the man who grabbed him square in the nose, and he reeled backwards, his hands flying to his face. Interestingly, this man didn’t wear a black jacket like the other two.

One of the black-jacket men behind him shouted and was likely about to throw another hit. The one who grabbed Viren’s shoulder quickly straightened, a steady trickle of blood dripping from his nose. “That’s enough,” he snapped loudly. Viren could sense the black-jacket men pausing. He took advantage of the moment to take a few steps back to where he could keep everyone in his sights.

The black-jacket men glared hotly at the stranger, who glared back, but not with as much venom. Viren was nearly forgotten.

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“Stop meddling in situations that don’t concern you,” one of the black-jacket men snapped.

“You stop threatening and ganging up on youngsters, then,” the other guy said back. People started gathering around the conflict. Black jackets intermingled with normally dressed people. Though, Viren noticed that everyone not wearing a black jacket had some sort of red and orange striped cloth on them. A cloth tied around a wrist here, a bandanna on the forehead there…

Viren peered again at the stranger who pulled him backward. Sure enough, he had a red and orange striped handkerchief peeking out of one pocket. ‘I must have walking into some sort of gang conflict.’ He blinked. ‘Or started one.’

Viren clenched his fists tighter. It was clear he was the only one without some sort of allegiance to a group. That meant, if some sort of bar fight started, he would be at a sore disadvantage.

A huge man with slick black hair broke through the crowd. He was wearing a black coat. “What’s going on here, men?” he asked. The first man nodded respectfully -so the new guy was the leader, then- and pointed to Viren.

“This youth insulted me,” he hissed.

“Well then,” the black-haired man said, “It truly is meddling this Tiger Claw is doing, for the youth should receive due punishment.” ‘Tiger Claw? And punishment, seriously?’

“Alright, then, mom,” Viren said with fake sullenness. Snorts came from the group of onlookers, and the black-haired man gaped. Probably didn’t think he would say anything. The man with the striped handkerchief -the Tiger Claw- shook his head.

“I saw everything,” he protested. “You were clearly threatening this boy. And,” he added, “Three full-grown men to one boy is hardly fair or honorable.” Mocking laughs came from every person with a black coat.

“Fair?” the black-haired man threw his arms wide. “Honorable? We’re mercenaries, what do you expect?” ‘Mercenaries?!’ Viren was surprised. Apparently these black-jacket men were part of some sort of mercenary group. ‘A mercenary company,’ he thought, remembering that advertisement at Edgedale all those weeks ago.

Another man pushed through the crowd, drawing Viren out of his thoughts. This time it was an older man, looked less muscled than the black-haired man, but far more capable. His greyish hair was chestnut brown at the edges, and he wore a red and orange striped bandanna around his neck.

“Rickson is right,” he said in a powerful voice, laying a hand on the Tiger Claw’s shoulder. There was no doubt in Viren’s mind that this man was the leader of the ‘Tiger Claws’.

“It is not right for you Bears to attack or threaten a youth. The Tiger Claw Company will not stand for it.” The other Tiger Claws separated from the group to stand behind the leader, Rickson, and Viren. The black-haired man growled.

The other black jacket people started moving to stand behind the black-haired man, though much more slowly and with less conviction than the Tiger Claws. The two groups eyed each other and glared. The leader of the ‘Bears’ looked madder by the minute.

“Disengage,” the leader of the Tiger Claws suddenly hissed. The Tiger Claws started moving backwards As a group. Rickson reached out a hand to touch Viren before quickly snapping his hand back.

“Come with me,” he said instead. Viren narrowed his eyes, his first instinct being to refuse. Then he glanced at the group of menacing people wearing black jackets and had second thoughts. ‘Well, at least these people don’t seem inclined to ‘teach me a lesson’.’ With a shrug he followed the Tiger Claw over to the other wing. The Bears glared after them but didn’t make a move to block or attack them.

The entire group of Tiger Claws retreated to the opposite side of the building, at two long tables near the fireplace. It looked like this was where they were eating before they all gathered around the fight. Many Tiger Claws sat down at one of the tables to continue eating.

Rickson grabbed a napkin and held it to his nose while the leader examined Viren. Viren glanced back at where he was sitting before. Some of the Bears were still over there, eyeing him darkly. ‘Guess I won’t be eating down here again anytime soon. Hopefully it won’t be necessary to find another place to stay. I already paid for a week in advance!’

The leader spoke. “Are you all-right, lad?” Viren turned to face the man.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said.

“Good to hear. My name is Brack, though you should refer to me as ‘sir’.”

“You pack a mean punch kid,” Rickson said around his napkin.

“Hmm,” Viren said. “So, you’re all a member of a mercenary company?” he asked, referring to both the Tiger Claws and the Bears. Rickson nodded.

“Yup,” he said. “We,” he motioned to the group with his hand, “Are the Tiger Claw Company. And those scumbags over there are known as the Black Bear Company.” He snorted. “Should be named the ‘Cowardly Worm company’.” Viren’s gaze rested on the Black Bear Company.

“Are most mercenaries that bad?” he asked. “The few that I’ve interacted with have at least been polite.”

“Yes,” Brack answered. “Those you’ve interacted with have been in a more official setting, no?” Viren thought about it. Taron would never hire someone like the Black Bears, and other than Bart and Larissa from his first job he hadn’t really interacted with any other mercenaries. He nodded.

“Well,” Brack continued, “most mercenaries are a lot more… crude and bloodthirsty, to be frank.”

“In fact,” Rickson jumped in, “The Tiger Claw Company is one of the few exceptions.”

“How so?” Viren asked curiously.

“We are known as ‘the honorable mercenaries’,” Rickson said. “Granted, most companies mock us for it, but that’s probably because they’re jealous of all the work we get. Every single merc in the company has morals and is trustworthy, and we’ll never betray or double cross someone or take a job that goes against what we stand for, no matter the coin offered.” Viren was silent, thinking.

“Do you live near here? I don’t think it would be wise to send you off by yourself,” Brack said.

“Actually, I’m staying here currently,” Viren said. Rickson winced.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. Viren nodded.

“I’ll just have to avoid them while I stay here,” he decided. ‘shouldn’t be too difficult. I won be surprised again.’ Then he frowned. ‘Might be hard to find work with two mercenary companies in town, though.’ It was too bad. He really liked this area, if only for its proximity to the sea.

“You’re… here on your own?” Rickson’s voice brought Viren back to the conversation.

“Uhm, yes.”

“Do you have someone you’re planning to stay with? Or are you meeting someone?” ‘What?’ Rickson’s eyes had widened in concern and Brack’s lips had pinched together. ‘Oh.’ They were probably concerned that a ‘youngster’ such as himself was possibly all alone. ‘Hmmm. Now’s probably a good time to disengage.’

“Ah, I wouldn’t want to bore you guys with my arrangements.” Viren shifted to leave. “Thanks for the save. I’ll go wait out the worst of their anger in my room.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to repeat the situation, would we?” Brack and Rickson laughed along with him, though suspicion colored their expressions. ‘It’s fine. They’ll lose interest before morning.’

When morning came Viren would slip out of the inn before he could catch any attention. He would probably be able to find a few small jobs to hold him over until his week was up. Then he would leave. He wasn’t sure how long the two companies were planning to stay, but with so many mercenaries in town he couldn’t possibly hope to compete for work.