By midday, they arrived at the edge of town where the merchant caravans gathered behind a crumbling outer wall. Dozens of wagons sat in loose formation—canvas-covered, iron-reinforced, and guarded by mercenaries in mismatched armor.
Nyric pointed toward a larger wagon flying a crimson banner marked with a twin-dragon crest. "That's them. The Saren Trading Guild."
A gruff woman stood beside it, arms crossed. She wore a breastplate over traveling leathers and had twin axes strapped to her back. Her gaze swept over Kael and Nyric like she was sizing up prey.
Behind her, a middle-aged man in fine robes scribbled into a ledger. Round glasses perched on his nose. He glanced up briefly, adjusted his spectacles, then returned to his writing.
Nyric stepped forward. "Are we ready to move out?"
"Still short a man," the woman replied, voice edged with impatience.
"I wouldn't mind coming along," a cracked voice muttered behind Kael. "For the right price, of course."
Kael turned and spotted a man grinning at them. A scar ran from his jawline down to his neck, disappearing beneath his cloak. The mark caught Kael's eye instantly.
The merchant glanced up, squinted at the newcomer, then gave a small nod toward the woman.
"A hundred shards," she muttered.
"Deal," the man said. "Rasterk." He extended a hand.
The woman eyed it, scoffed, then turned back toward the merchant. "Just don't give me trouble."
Rasterk chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head.
Nyric shook Rasterk's hand. "If it's any consolation, she's like that with everyone. Name's Nyric."
"The pay's good at least," Rasterk said with a smile.
He glanced at Kael, then smirked. "What's with the kid?"
Kael found himself staring at the scar again, curiosity mixed with unease.
Nyric clapped Kael on the back, breaking his trance. "This is Kael."
Rasterk leaned closer. "What's wrong, kid? Never seen a scar like this? Thinking of getting one yourself?"
Kael blinked, caught off guard. "What? No—I was just curious."
Rasterk laughed. "This is my badge of honor. Not something you get handed on a platter. And hey, lighten up. Life's too short to walk around like you're carrying the weight of the world."
Kael tried to smile but felt a knot in his stomach.
"Well, nice meeting you," Rasterk said, waving as he moved toward the wagons.
Nyric watched him go, muttering, "Interesting guy. Be careful with him."
"Why?" Kael asked.
"Just instinct," Nyric replied. "But he's right—don't be so uptight." He patted Kael's shoulder.
Kael felt a strange gaze from the caravan. Turning, he caught sight of a younger boy dressed like the merchants. The boy quickly ducked behind a cart when Kael looked his way.
"What?" Nyric asked.
"Nothing interesting," Kael said, though a flicker of unease lingered.
"Alright, let's join the rest," Nyric said, heading toward the caravan.
---
The group settled on tree branches in a clearing, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across their faces.
Rasterk clapped his hands. "And I stabbed the bastard right in the eye." He grinned, proud.
"Finally, he stopped moving—and so did I. I'd won… but not without paying a price." He traced the scar along his neck, a shadow crossing his face. "I lay there, waiting for death… until she found me."
"Who?" one of the mercenaries asked.
Rasterk's grin faded. "Retyit."
The fire crackled, and silence fell as everyone stared at him.
"You don't mean…" another mercenary whispered, eyes wide.
Rasterk smirked darkly. "Who else? No one uses that name while she's still alive."
Kael's brow furrowed. What made her so special?
"You mean the Veiled Thorn?" a mercenary asked aloud.
Rasterk chuckled at the reactions around the fire. "Of course. I had the privilege of meeting her—one of the Deadly Ten."
"We'd believe you," Nyric said, "but how come you still have a scar if you met her?"
The mercenaries nodded, waiting.
Rasterk's eyes flicked toward Kael. "Unfortunately, that bastard was Asvaran—and he'd unlocked a rare trait."
"The Veiled Thorn healed my internal wounds enough to walk away… but she had other battles to fight that day."
A mercenary nodded gravely. "I've heard of that trait. Makes wounds damn near impossible to heal."
Nods circled the fire.
Kael swallowed hard, trying to take it all in.
"I can't believe you met Retyit the Veiled Thorn," another mercenary muttered, voice filled with awe. "If I saw her once… I could die in peace."
Kael turned to Nyric quietly. "Who's the Veiled Thorn?"
Nyric opened his mouth to answer—
—but Rasterk cut in.
"You haven't heard of the Veiled Thorn?" Rasterk said, incredulous. The group stared at Kael as if he'd just confessed to not knowing the sun.
"No. Who's that?" Kael replied, shrugging.
A mercenary gasped. "Have you been living under a rock?"
"Actually, within one," Kael said with a faint smile. "Mountains, to be specific."
Laughter broke out.
"Shut up! Some of us are trying to sleep!" a gruff voice snapped from a nearby tent, killing the mirth instantly.
Nyric placed a hand on Kael's shoulder. "My nephew's been out there since his parents died. Not much news reaches that deep."
"But to not know Retyit—the most beautiful being in this world…" the mercenary next to Kael said, voice thick with feeling. "I feel for you, kid." He patted Kael's shoulder.
Rasterk leaned in, voice dropping. "Lucky for you, I'm here."
He smirked. "Retyit is the most beautiful, most talented woman alive."
"Not to mention powerful—and damn sexy," another mercenary added, earning chuckles.
"She's the fifth thorn of the Ten Thorns," Rasterk continued. "The strongest martial artist of her generation."
Kael frowned. "Wait… Ten Thorns? But she's a healer?"
"She's unique," Rasterk said, winking. "The only healer among them—but dangerous in ways you wouldn't expect."
"Where is she now?" Kael asked.
"Locked up in the Academy," someone muttered.
Rasterk laughed. "More like teaching there. But she rarely leaves—and not everyone gets in."
"Why not?" Kael pressed.
The group went silent, exchanged knowing looks—
—and then burst into laughter, only to freeze as the ground trembled beneath them.