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they were looking for.

A large, natural indent was worn into the base of the ridge. The opening was disguised by a boulder that had separated from the hillside above. The massive stone blocked he majority of the hole, leaving a small natural entrance. Through the opening, Ryl could see the entirety of the void. It would be a tight squeeze for the pair, but it would protect them from the elements. They knew naught of what other surprises nightfall in the Outlands would bring.

With shelter and water ensured, Ryl tasked himself with the gathering of kindling and firewood. He was returning from scrounging up his collection when Andr arrived, a triumphant smile spread across the guard’s face. In his hand was a small clump of dirty plants.

“It won’t hold a candle to Gencep’s fare, but at least we won’t go hungry tonight,” Andr said sarcastically.

Ryl thought back to the single meal he’d shared with Lord Eligar and Mender Gencep. Even the finest meal he’d tasted in his relatively short life couldn’t compare to the culinary wonder that the mender had provided.

“Are those carrots?” Ryl asked skeptically, looking at the plants in Andr’s hand.

“Aye, I believe they are,” he replied.

“How do you know so much about the plants here?” Ryl quizzed.

“Honestly, I don’t,” Andr answered. “Thank you for gathering firewood, by the way, well done.”

Andr gave Ryl a gracious smile before sitting down, arranging the small sticks into a crude pyramid.

“I’ve spent nearly as many cycles as you’ve been alive in places where surviving off the land was a necessity,” he explained. “You learn a thing of two about what you can and can’t eat in a bind. The stems aren’t the right color, but the leaves are the right shape. Guess we’ll find out if they’re safe soon enough.”

Andr ended the last statement with a chuckle.

“Nice hole you found us,” he said as he swiveled his head, scanning the modest earthen interior of the cave.

“Thank you,” Ryl answered automatically. “I never thought the life of a guard was that rough.”

Andr laughed again.

“Who said anything about being a guard the whole time,” Andr replied, a sly grin grew across his face as he looked up from the mounting pile of twigs and tinder. “I’ve only been in the service of the guard for the last four cycles or so. I spent nearly every moment prior to that as a mercenary.”

Knowledge of the world beyond the palisades had been pitifully lacking and rarely up to date in The Stocks. The tributes pieced together what information they could by eavesdropping on the conversations of the guards. Ryl thought back to the rumors he’d heard over the cycles. Never once was there mention of any armed conflict.

“Hasn’t the kingdom been at peace for over a thousand cycles?” Ryl asked, genuinely curious about the world that had carried on outside the walls.

Andr flashed him a sympathetic smile.

“I forget that you didn’t have the privilege of the information we were privy to. I’m sorry, Ryl,” Andr’s voice carried an unmistakable air of honesty. “To answer your question, the Kingdom of Damaris has been at peace for more than a millennium. The nobles and the lords, on the other hand, are in a constant state of flux.”

Andr paused, striking his flint into the small pile of tinder he’d prepared. With practiced precision, the spark landed squarely among the fibers of wood he'd arranged, taking hold almost immediately. He gently coaxed the ember to life and within moments a small fire crackled away inside their shelter.

“You see Ryl, while the kingdom may be at peace, the nobility, the Lords, and the Houses are constantly vying for land and influence,” Andr explained. “Not a day goes by where the lust for more power fails to erupt into violence. Destruction of another Lord’s property, a minor skirmish, a land grab, kidnapping, you name it. All’s fair in their never-ending quest for power.”

The look of disgust must have been all too evident on Ryl’s face.

“Like I told you before, I’m no saint, Ryl,” Andr admitted sincerely. “There’s a flip side to the unchecked aggression though. Those under assault need defending. The kidnapped need rescuing. Those whose properties were stolen or destroyed demand revenge. Now those were the jobs that paid and paid well. The riskier the job, the better the pay. I enjoyed what I did, but I had a bad habit of picking the worst.”

“If the pay was so good and you enjoyed it so much, why did you quit and join the guard?” Ryl asked.

A strange look spread across Andr’s normally impassive face, one that mixed sadness with an anger that burned white hot. As quickly as it had come, the look passed. Andr stirred the fire for a moment before answering.

“After so long doing it, the novelty wears off I guess,” the mercenary stated. “In a way, I was just as much a slave to the thirst for power as the nobles, only mine came from the rush of the battle. It was time for a change in pace.”

Ryl had the distinct feeling that Andr had omitted information from his story. He chose not to press the subject further with his new friend.

“How did you end up serving in The Stocks then?” Ryl asked cautiously.

The Stocks were not a location a guard willingly opted to serve. Those chosen to patrol the interior did so as a punishment for the various infractions or crimes they’d committed on the outside. Andr's eyes wandered out of the small cave, viewing the stillness of the grove with watchful eyes.

“I may have voiced my discontent with some of those who considered themselves to be my betters,” Andr smirked. “Earned me an extended stay in The Stocks. Lucky for you, I might add.”

Ryl smiled back at the comment. He was eternally grateful that his path and Andr's had collided. Whether it was fate, luck or mere coincidence, without Andr, he would have died. The thought raised another question in Ryl's mind.

“Andr, why did you

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