I’m on the road, holding the reins of my horse, Phobos. It's hot today. Too hot. Sweat beads on my forehead, the air thick and humid. I feel like I'm swimming under my armour. Thank the gods I've almost finished my contract. All I'm really thinking about right now is my quiet, comfortable bed on the Adrestia, a bowl of bread and cheese, and enough wine to take the edge off a long, shitty day.

But there's no rest for a misthios, not in the middle of a war. Some approaches from across the dirt road, wary but hopeful. Someone who needs help. I get a lot of those these days.

"Chiare," I greet as I turn toward the newcomer. "Looking for something?"