The next few days passed in the same way, marching, resting then marching again and so on.
The desert was still the same, full of endless sand and heat.
This time, Solen and the others had been moved to the rear guard again. The front lines had mostly recovered, so their group was back to watching everyone else's backs and protecting the carriages in case of any problem. Not that Solen was complaining. Being rear guard meant fewer eyes on him and also less danger.
After the first initial attack the group hadn't been attacked again. Neither by the hollows nor by any bandits.
By now, he had also gotten a little more used to life with the others. He'd picked up the names of some of the guards besides Jaron. There was Rish, who always bragged about his sword skills; Mera, the woman who somehow managed to keep her armor spotless even in this wasteland; and old Borin, who snored very loud whenever they slept.
Through half-listened conversations and bits of gossip, he was beginning to piece together a rough picture of this world.
They were currently marching through the western side of the Saharan Desert — a vast, cursed land that split two great powers. On one side was the Methia Empire, the land they were in now, and on the other lay the Kingdom of Aringdale, whose borders began where the eastern side of the desert ended.
Apparently, the two nations had been 'friendly rivals' for years. It was thee kind of rivalry that looked polite in daylight and that drew blood at night.
The Marrek family were a powerful noble house and they were also influential merchants. They were from Aringdale. Solen had overheard a few of the fellow guards muttering during the trial for becoming a guard, that the Marrek lord had married off his younger sister to Aringdale's Third Prince, strengthening the ties between the kingdom and their family. But the rumors didn't stop there. Whispers said the Marrek's were trying to expand their influence deeper into Methia too, especially near the border territories, the city of Kinoya and much further ahead, the city of Valdrun.
While the Lord of the family hadn't come here himself he had sent many other important people. which showed how important this was.
And Kinoya was where they were heading now.
If the whisperings were to be trusted they'd reach Kinoya in three or four more days. There, they were supposed to rest, resupply, and receive new orders while the Marrek's took care of their business.
For most of the guards, it meant good food, beds, and alchohols.
For Solen, it meant it was time to understand the world and his task here better.
He adjusted the lantern at his belt, its faint violet shimmer barely visible in the daylight as he kept his pace on the same levels as others. After he had first devoured the soul of a hollow, he didn't have any problem or tiredness in moving through the desert. It made him question if his stats were all at G- after getting some power up, how much weaker was he before.
Still he didn't let all this fret him and continued to walk.
"Kinoya, huh," he murmured to himself. "Let's see what kind of place you are."
While most of the guards kept their distance from Solen, old Borin was different. The man was looked to be in his fifties, his beard a mix of grey and brown, his laughter and snores both very loud. He didn't seem to care who Solen was or how he came to join the guards — if anything, he seemed to enjoy having someone to talk to.
At the moment, the two were walking side by side.
"You sure have a lot of interest in geography and history for someone your age," Borin said with a chuckle. "So how come you didn't know about all this beforehand huh? The empires, the borders, the desert routes?"
Solen stiffened slightly, unsure of what to say. After a pause, he murmured, "I… I wasn't allowed to."
Borin's smile faltered. The cheer that usually colored his face dimmed, replaced by something that almost looked like pity.
"Oh... you're an Unsullied, aren't you?"
Solen blinked, confused. The word meant nothing to him, but in that moment, he nodded anyway. "Yeah. I am."
The old man sighed deeply, shaking his head. "Poor kid. Don't worry. The Methia Empire's already decided to accept all the Unsullied. It's barbaric what they did to children like you… trying to turn you into—that. Hmm it is good that the empires have decide to band together against those bastards."
He went on rambling, his words making Solen more and more confused. Solen stopped listening halfway through. His brows furrowed slightly as he thought, 'What the hell is he even talking about?'
Still, he didn't interrupt. Better to let the old man keep talking than expose his ignorance.
After a few moments of silence, Borin seemed to realize the mood had grown heavy. He cleared his throat and said, "Anyway! Let me tell you something interesting instead."
Solen looked up at him, grateful for the change of topic.
"I heard from Frenar", Borin said, lowering his voice a little. Frenar was one of the guards part of the front line. "that the Marrek family had brought a bunch of other guards from the Aringdale Kingdom with them too. But get this — they all died before the convoy could even reach Methia."
Before Solen could even respond, a sharp voice cut in beside them.
Mera, walking a few steps away, turned her head towards them sharply, her eyes narrowing. "They all died?" she repeated.
Borin nodded, his tone grim now. "That's what I heard. Every last one of them."
A strange silence settled over the small group. The only sound was that of footsteps.
Mera's voice started again her voice full of disbelief. "That doesn't make sense. Even if they were ambushed by monsters or bandits, at least a few should've survived."
Borin scratched his beard and said. "That's what I said too. But Frenar swore on his old man's name, said he heard from one of the merchants. There were no survivors among the guards."
Soren couldn't help but frown at this. "And Sir Garran? He was also there, wasn't he?"
Borin nodded slowly. "Yes he was the one who came back."
Mera narrowed her eyes again, her voice dropping to a murmur. "Then why doesn't he have a single fresh wound on him? That scar across his face is old. No fresh cuts, no bruises, nothing. If there really was such a tough fight, how did he walk out untouched? And all the merchants and these carriages or the stuff they have brought with them, no damage there too"
The silence that followed was heavy.. Even Solen, who was listening couldn't help but look in direction of Garran. Garran rode his horse ahead, looking the same as always.
Borin's voice came quieter this time. "Some say it wasn't beasts that killed them. Something else, maybe."
Before Mera could reply, another voice cut through the air. The voice was low yet the tone was sharp.
"You three," Jaron said from behind them. His expression was the same as always, cold and unreadable. "You shouldn't poke your nose into things that don't concern you. Curiosity can be dangerous out."
His tone wasn't really that of a threat, but it still made the air colder.
Mera blinked, and then replied. "We were just talking—"
"Then talk about something else," Jaron interrupted. His gaze lingered briefly on each of them before he turned and walked away.
For a while, no one spoke.
Then Borin coughed awkwardly. "Well," he said, forcing a laugh that didn't quite land. "Guess that's that."
Solen didn't answer. His eyes were still fixed on Jaron's back, disappearing slowly into the haze ahead. There were too many secrets buried in this desert. And he had a feeling he was standing right in the middle of them.