Chargas step softly. As graceful as cats, as powerful as bears, and as intelligent as human children, they are the best companions when it comes to travelling through dangerous lands. A grown-up man on a charga’s back looks like a fragile kid. And a kid riding a charga is the cutest thing ever.

Marin had just noticed one from afar.

His curiosity stirred, he opened a box of spyglasses he was going to sell in one of the big cities and grabbed one. Yes. The tiny figure on a young charga – almost a kitten – was a child. Some of his companions were children as well.

Children travelling through the No Man’s Land? That was worth investigating!

Marin expected no danger from the curious group. Firstly, his caravan was still on Brevir, which is safe, and secondly, the kids on the chargas were obviously Lifekeepers, members of a closed order with ancient traditions of peace and mercy. There was nothing to fear from meeting them.

The team on the chargas moved faster than Marin’s cart caravan, so the Lifekeepers caught up with it soon. The caravan’s taranders – elklike beasts of burden – were the only ones unhappy with that: taranders are afraid of chargas, their natural predators in the wild. As to the caravan’s people, everyone welcomed the young travellers.

“Safe journey to you!” Marin greeted them when the team reached his cart. “Where are you heading?”

“To Tammar,” answered their leader, a young man that looked like a pureblood Faizul.

“Oh!” exclaimed the merchant. “It’s dangerous to leave Brevir here. I wouldn’t do that, especially if I had children with me. Some gang might consider you easy prey… Would you like to join us instead? We’re going to Gurron. From there, it’s only a day’s journey to Tammar, on a safe road.”

“Thank you,” the Faizul nodded, so very politely, “but we are in a hurry. And we are not easy prey. Safe journey to you!”

The Lifekeepers passed Marin’s caravan and disappeared from view after taking the next turn on the road. Marin’s eyes followed them as they walked away. A flaxen-haired child riding a charga kitten was the last in their procession. The boy must have been about six years old but he wore a full Lifekeeper attire, complete with a real sword.

Seeing him had nearly made Marin tear up. No, Jarmin did nothing special; he was busy playing the wooden flute Orion had made for him and listening to Orion singing to the tune. But he reminded Marin of something, something precious, something lost forever…

For a moment, the merchant wanted nothing else but to abandon his caravan and join the Lifekeeper boys. The emotion was so sudden and strong that he felt drowning for a moment and gasped for air.

“Marin! Are you okay?” he heard his friend, Hasse, ask. Hasse had sped up his tarander to catch up with Marin’s cart and now was looking Marin in the eyes, worried.

“That boy…” the merchant muttered and shook his head. “His little sword is just like mine…”

“You have a sword?” Hasse raised his brows, surprised. He had never seen his friend wield a weapon.

Marin reached for his travelling chest where he kept his personal belongings and rummaged in it for a while. The object he was searching for turned out to be at the very bottom: a bundle of rags and papers with something long inside it. Marin unwrapped the thing and handed it to Hasse.

“Is it a toy?” the warrior asked with a smile.

“No. Unsheath it and see for yourself,” said Marin reproachfully. “It’s a katana made for a child. See? The hilt is thin enough so a small hand can grasp it.”

“No handguard,” noticed Hasse.