“Kangassk. Just Kan to you.” The young man bowed courteously.

Vlada gave him a closer look. Kangassk had dark skin – its tone wasn’t the pitch black the local men had, though, but rather chocolaty brown, – black hair, and green eyes. He was shorter than the locals, and his face resembled neither Del nor Emer.

“You’re not from this city, are you?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m from here all right,” Kan growled, obviously irritated. “I’m just a freak, the shame of my ancestors and all.”

“I wouldn’t call you a freak,” said Vlada, frank and straightforward as usual. “I think you’re a very handsome young man.”

Kangassk shrugged, unconvinced.

“So where are you from? Who are your ancestors?” he asked.

Vlada smiled as she realized that the poor guy expected to hear the names of her city and its first people.

“My family is known as Wanderers in Kuldagan,” she said.

“Wanderers, huh?” Kan’s eyes brightened up. “So it was your family who drove the rare fire dragons into extinction?”

“Yes. Kind of…”

“You have my huge thanks then!” Kan beamed. “Aren-castell used to be their favourite resting spot during their breeding migrations. Imagine these scaly jerks perched on every roof like some crazy giant chickens! Everyone who dared to leave the house risked being eaten, fried, or both… May the master forgive me, I’m giving you 50% discount on everything!”

“So you’re not the master?”

“No, just an apprentice. And a poor one if you take my master’s word.”

“Okay… so, will you show me your guns?” Vlada went straight to business.

“Ah, guns… Firearms…” Kan hesitated.

“Yes, them. I need one.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to visit the Burnt Region.”

“Why? I wouldn’t ever go there, not for love or money! I heard…” He took a deep breath, obviously preparing to tell her some cool story.

“Guns, Kan,” repeated Vlada in a cold, slightly impatient voice.

“We don’t have any,” Kan confessed after an awkward pause. “We used to have a lot while the gold rush was still a thing, but now people don’t travel through the Burnt Region anymore, so we don’t make guns and haven’t ordered gunpowder in years. You can go to Torgor and…”

“Too bad!” said Vlada, adding the disappointed “tsk!” sound, just like her grandfather used to do when he was displeased. “I’m in a hurry, Kan. I can’t afford going back to Torgor. I guess I’ll go to the Burnt Region as is: with a sword. How much do you want for this katana?”

Kangassk gasped. During the next minute he made several attempts to say something, yet no sound came from his mouth. He looked like some unfortunate fountain fish suffocating on the sand. Finally, he gave up.

“Fifty coins,” he uttered painfully and then almost exploded with emotions: “Vlada, please, no! Even with a gun, it’s dangerous to go there!”

“Calm down, Kangassk. It’s not my first trip there.” Vlaga gave him a condescending smile and put the coins into his hand.

“Would you… maybe… like going somewhere tonight?” Kan asked hopefully. “We have a theater and…”

“No, thanks. I’d rather take a nap and be on my way in the morning.”

Kangassk followed the girl everywhere like a homeless puppy looking just as sad and miserable. He carried her backpack; he made awkward attempts at small talk – for he still wanted to talk her out of going to a certain death. She wouldn’t listen. Finally, clearly tired of Kan’s attention, Vlada gently took him by the elbow and walked him out the dlar door. The conversation was over.

Back in his store, Kangassk still couldn’t calm down. He either paced the room like a caged lion or sat at the table drumming his fingers on the laquered wood. Either way, his own thoughts were driving him up the wall. The utter silence of the typical Kuldagan midday made everything even worse. In a final attempt to distract himself, he grabbed the book he knew was an emotion killer: a thick and heavy Encyclopedia of No Man’s Land. It was far too advanced a read for someone like Kangassk, so he never tried to storm the paragraphs, he went straight to the summaries instead. Those were nice and clear as if some kind soul, definitely not the author, took pity on the students the monstrous book had been written for.