Daylight shone on the dark burnt spots marring the outer brick wall of Erten. Each one spoke of the unreachable memories of the burned.
"Why are there that?" The boy in the brown overcoat pointed.
Tresgon gave a glare. "Do not speak more, I have repeated this several times over."
Two guards at the rusted gates of the brick wall stepped out from their posts at the gate.
"Halt!" Weapons drawn, two spears, pointed at the five of them. "Who are all of you?"
Tresgon steps forth, he pulls out a piece of metal. Its shape an irregular pentagon. Bringing it up, he said. "I am Tresgon from the Roaming Squadron of Left Wing of Palre's Army."
The two guards saw the short sword on his hip with his hand not hovering on it. Why would his be? He could punch faster than drawing his sword and he had one arm already extended.
"Roaming Squadron, huh?" The guard on his left considered. "Why haven't I heard of you from the other three?" He was bluffing.
Tresgon, however was from the Roaming Squadron of the Left Wing of Palre's Army of foot soldiers which comes under the Army of the Capital.
Pocketing his badge, he stated. "No, member of the Roaming Squadron brings their team members. So, the other three will not be knowing my name."
The two guards gave each other a glance. The guard on the right asked, "Who are the four following you?"
Tresgon looked past them. "For them, I need to speak with the chief guard for this gate and then the Capital's Knight here."
Both the guards did not had to say a word, they understood. Lowering their weapons, the guard on the left stated. "Follow me, I'll guide you," He looked to his companion and gave his affirmation.
The five of them followed the guard crossing the rusted gate. The boy in the brown overcoat gave it a glare for a moment.
Chief guard's quarters weren't far off since he had no family left. He stayed in a humble cot he was given.
Inside was a simple room. A bed in a corner, a sink that drains out, a table with its own chair, and a large chest.
The Chief Guard sipping some boiled water looked up from his table marred with numerous letters and reports. His eyes carried a weight. One he instinctively judges someone by.
None of the five qualified let alone the lone guard who accompanied them. The guard opened his mouth, only to be cut off before he could speak.
The Chief Guard's words held themselves longer than they were spoken for. "Another member of the Roaming Squadron has come. Correct, Ropne?" His upper lips dipped under the surface of the warm water while the lower supported the cup.
Tresgon answered. "Yes, I am Tresgon of the 33rd Roaming Squadron team." Directing his hands at the four along with him. "I caught these four coming from the areas closer to the border. I wish to speak of this to the Capital's Knight in the city."
"Hmm," the Chief Guard nodded. Another sip went down his thirsty throat before he chose to speak. "Ropne, fetch me the Chief Guards from three of the other gates." He put the cup down on one of the letters.
Ropne exited the cot.
Chief Guard's gaze went from Tresgon to Lacvo to the two who accompanied the boy in the brown overcoat while the wanderer examined the room wholeheartedly.
"Isn't this a wonderful cot?" He quipped to the boy.
The boy lost in his analysis simply nodded. A pained smile spread itself over the Chief Guard's lips.
"Ah, it has been quite the decades since someone crossed the Gracious Mountains."
The words 'Gracious Mountains' caught the wanderer's awareness, "Hmm?"
The trembling smile on the Chief Guard's lips quavered to expand tiny bit from each end before it receded back. "What do you think of the bricks?"
Wanderer did not know the significance of this question for now. It wasn't asked without reason.
"All of them are unique," he pointed at one close to the Chief Guard's boots and then to the floor brick near his own feet. "Each one was hand made, I think." His brows furrowed slightly. "And," he bent down to look closely, "has some sort of light painting or drawing."
Satisfied with his curiosity, the Chief Guard continued. "Yes, this is a specialty of our city. The City of Erten." Taking a quiet fulfilling breath, "None of the bricks were made in the same month. Each one from a different maker. It is just a small nuance of here."
Tresgon and Lacvo in the meantime with the other two only had their gaze going back and forth between the boy and the Chief Guard.
Tresgon wished to ask, but he stifled it, choked his curiosity.
The boy asked however, "What is nuance?" Thinking a bit he asked, "Is this connected to the name of the city?"
News from the lands beyond the Gracious Mountains takes quite the time to spread in the continent of Ashtrim.
"People from Beret always are intellectuals in their own way." The Chief Guard caught the sudden increase in awareness in the boy's eyes. And he laughed.
"Don't worry. Beret and the City of Erten has an oath of bonding. And whereas how I knew? You had the same reaction as someone who hails from Beret. Here on this side of the great mountain chain we call those mountains," he indicated with his thumb, "the Mountains of Despair."
Lacvo knew both the terms of the same great chain of mountains and a few more. He didn't know the history that connects Erten to Beret.
Tresgon chose then to speak up. "Chief Guard, it is…um, needed?..That you avoid speaking to the guilty so casually. We are still not sure whether all of them are what they say they are."
The Chief Guard tilted his head slightly with his chin rising. "Oh? So why aren't none of them in ropes or chains?"