Vincent sat in impatient silence as he waited for Henricks to finish his gruel. As the sun rose outside, more and more people ended up in the inn, either for work or to waste the day away. Some recognised him and gave the table a wide berth. The look of fear in their eyes was something he would miss, even if he would probably never steal from them. There was no point in taking things from people who already had nothing.

Once Henricks was done and had packed his things, he paid the small price of two gold to give Sparks a fresh bale of hay. “You’re not going to regret this, Mister Mortimer, I promise you,” he said while the horse ate.

“I hope not,” Vincent said under his breath. He held his long black coat in one hand and rolled up the sleeves of his once white shirt underneath. Summer hadn’t even arrived and it was already too hot for the layers he preferred to wear. It made it hard for him to hide what everyone tried too hard to look for.

The summer months were the worst for him. If he was lucky, he was able to get away with a long sleeve shirt without feeling like he was drowning in his own sweat, but most of the time he was stuck in a singlet. Those months, he was a lot less active and most thought he had disappeared, only for him to reappear in his layered glory in autumn. All because his chest wasn’t flat like it should have been, like he wanted it to be.

He watched over a happy Sparks as Henricks excused him for a moment, disappearing around the corner to the stables attached to the inn. He came back with his own horse, a pretty white stallion who stood with confidence. In Henricks’ hands was a bread roll, which he tossed to Vincent without bothering to ask.

He felt like a church charity, taking the food, but he was hungry. “You’re not the only ranger Governor Thompson has asked me to hire,” Henricks said, hopping atop his horse. “There’s been such a shortage of well-trained people lately, and far too many others choosing crime.”

“Yes, well, there’s not much choice out here,” he replied. It wasn’t much of a surprise, but it would make things a considerable amount harder if one of them happened to recognise him, one of the most well-known rangers out in the west of Nuran land.

“No, I’m sure there isn’t,” Henricks said. The words could have once been sympathetic, but the look on his face made them condescending and judgemental. Vincent couldn’t find it in himself to care, he knew he was telling the truth.

Most who had come to Ilsania were regular people trying to start a new life somewhere that wasn’t cramped, believing that the country was a fertile paradise. They had been wrong and from the moment they arrived, there had been people like Vincent stealing from the little resources that had been brought with them from Nuran. And there were always people trying to catch them, believing that they were doing something wrong by trying to survive in a country that wasn’t for them.

And while Governor Thompson and the Queen of Nuran were convinced that Ilsania was the perfect place to be, those in the new, smaller settlements knew better. They couldn’t hold back the crop disease, couldn’t withstand the heat and the soil that didn’t agree with foreign plants. The issue was that those in charge were too scared to admit that they’d been wrong. The only thing they had going for them was vireen, not that anyone knew how to properly grow it yet.

“Come along, there is one other person we need to meet on the way. He’s told me where to find him, he’s just been waiting to hear about you,” Henricks said from ahead of him, watching him with a curious frown. Letting out a tired grunt, Vincent followed.

Hopefully, no names had been mentioned, but Henricks seemed like the kind of man who would be far too proud to have snatched up someone like Vincent. He probably would have been even more proud to have hired Spencer, but the masked ranger was definitely not the type to accept a job from the Governor. Vincent had thought he wouldn’t be the type either, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Filled with anxious regret, he followed Henricks out of town, patting Sparks as they went, even though she wasn’t the nervous one. It helped calm him somewhat, but it wasn’t going to be enough. By the time they reached New Feridian, he should be calm. Only a few months and then he could leave to another province, never to be bothered again.

Henricks led him out the opposite side of town, down the road that headed east towards New Feridian. The fields of crops turned quickly to prickly grass and red-tinged soil, the sun beating down on Vincent’s back. They couldn’t have travelled for more than twenty minutes in the awful heat and suffocating silence before Henricks pulled to a stop on the side of the road.

“Wait here,” he said as if he were talking to a soldier or a dog. He left him in the company of the white stallion and pushed through the scrub. “Hello? Sir? It’s Henricks, you said to meet you here when it was time to leave.”

For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence and Vincent frowned in confusion. It was all so strange, an old man coming up and offering him a job out of the blue. A job to protect the Governor of Morgot at that. It was even stranger that he had accepted without much question and that someone else had as well.

The bushes rustled to his left and Henricks appeared again, brushing down his clothing in distaste. There was confusion in his eyes, but Vincent didn’t say a word. If it was another ranger from the area then there was a big chance that he would be recognised. The idea only made his stomach ache more. Taking the job was already a mistake.

“Apologies, Mister Henricks, I was packing my bags!” a voice yelled from among the trees. The already pale Vincent blanched at the familiar voice and immediately wished that he’d decided to head towards New Feridian without accepting the job.

Spencer, or as most knew him, Cannibal, strode out from the trees, a pale mare at his side. His ugly mask was featureless, but he waved cheerfully at the old man, who was attempting to explain what was going on. Vincent could run, it would be so easy. He almost did, but Henricks pointing at him made him stop in his tracks.

Spencer’s eyes lit up when he caught sight of him, ignoring whatever Henricks was trying to say to him. “Vincent, my good friend, what are you doing here?”