Os couldn't tell if his sweat was from the heat or from his

  withdraws. Either way, he rode shirtless in the back of a wagon, pulled by two

  horses and driven by Drav. The wagon was empty except for him, Ena, and Rwo.

  After the high wore down from throwing the Greay into the fire, the four set

  off to Constre.

  "Need some water?" Ena handed him her flask.

  "You look like you're dying."

  "I am," Os said as he chugged.

  "We're nearing the lake," Rwo remarked. "We

  can cool you off there, and get you a bath." The trio of assassins had

  watched him all night and into morning as he came off his high and began to

  shiver, sweat, and shit himself.

  "You were probably a week from Black Out," Ena said

  as she took her flask back. "You should be grateful that we spotted you at

  the tavern when we did."

  Os turned his head and opened his eyes, but it was a mistake.

  The light made his vision wavy, causing him to sit up and puke over the side of

  the wagon. Drav turned his head, and sourly looked at the kid. If looks could

  kill, that was it.

  "I'll be grateful when I'm dead," Os said through a

  mouth of spit.

  Rwo chuckled and muttered, "Don't hold your

  breath."

  Up ahead, commotion could be heard through the sound of Os

  puking. Another wagon, a bigger wagon with tapestries, fruits, swords, and

  oddly colored viles clanged towards the opposite direction.

  "Good day, m' fellow trav'lers," a man on the

  driver seat tipped his hat as he moved to the side of the road. The man's hat,

  which matched the horse's hat, was green and orange. Perhaps it was the heat,

  or maybe withdraws, but Os could swear the horse tipped its hat, too. The

  harness on the horse looked slack. Through his brain fog, Os could tell that it

  was because the singular hat-wearing horse was attached to a two-horse harness.

  Os didn’t have the ability to even ponder why had this man attached one horse

  to a two-horse harness, so he let it go. The man’s thick beard and olive skin were

  a sign he was from the desert lands, south of the Heill Kingdom. When King Jept

  took over the native lands, he tried to expand into the desert, establishing a

  few trading routes and towns. However, King Phelch despised the heat and gave

  up the entire area. He declared that the Gurks could occupy the desert without

  any qualms from Heill.

  “Odd seeing a

  Gurk this far North,” Rwo said. He stood as Drav pulled the cart to a halt.

  “Odd seeing you

  this ugly,” the man retorted quickly. “Have you not slept?” Both men chuckled

  and jumped off their carriages. Drav followed Rwo off the wagon and hugged the

  man.

  “Jedian, so good

  to see you,” Rwo said through a smile. “How’ve you been?”

  “Great,” said

  Jedian. “Business is booming. Geruva has established trades with Teriova and

  Klondak.”

  At the heart of

  the Gerk Kingdom’s desert was Geruva, the capital city. Os had never been

  there, but his grandfather had. Os remembered stories from when he was young

  that the golden arches of Geruva could be seen from miles away, much like the

  Purple City’s towers.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Teriova and

  Klondak, huh? Kind of a stretch to establish trade routes that far out.”

  Jedian threw up

  his hands in an exasperated manner. “I am nowhere near the Gerk King to make

  such decisions. No kingdom can rely on Heill anymore – the ships are anchored

  in the ports.” It was true. Purple City had become its own self-governing,

  self-relying kingdom. Imports were not needed and exports were of no concern.

  Rwo and Ena hung

  their heads. Drav suddenly took an interest in Os’ situation - he had his head hanging

  over the side of the wagon the entire time trying not to throw up. He grabbed

  Os by the feet and dragged him onto the muddy road. The movement made Os throw

  up again. Through the puking, he could see by the look on their faces that they

  were ashamed. Ashamed of what the Kingdom they had once called home had become.

  “Things will

  change soon,” Ena said. “King Phelch can’t rely on the Prurple City forever.”

  “Well,” Jedian

  said, casting a knowing glace at the three assassins, “I hope somebody can

  knock him off his thrown. Got yourself a new recruit?”

  Drav picked Os

  up by the collar. Os, covered in mud and excrement, gave small wave.

  “Heat getting to

  you? Or is it the Greay?”

  “Both,” Rwo,

  Ena, and Os said in unison.

  Jedian chuckled.

  “Don’t worry kid. Lucky for you, my best customers are Greay addicts. That

  nasty stuff has touched here all the way to parts unknown.” He turned, and went

  to the back of his caravan. The sound of metal against wood, glass shattering,

  and the ruckus made Os’ head throb. Through the covered wagon, Os heard him

  exclaim, “Here it is!”

  Jedian walked up

  to Os and took his hand. He poured orange, red, and blue colored rocks into Os’

  palm. They were no bigger than Os’ thumbnail, about twenty in total. Being this

  close, Os could smell Jedian’s breath. It smelled like meat, but not like

  cattle or lamb. It was something familiar, but Os didn’t have the brain power

  to think about what it could be.

  “These should

  last you about a month,” Jedian said. “Go ahead, suck on one.”

  Os chose an

  orange one. He stuck it between his cheek and gum – sweetness coated his tongue

  and the back of his throat. As his saliva coated the rock more, he could feel

  his nausea subsiding. His head began to clear.

  “Feel better?”

  Os nodded and

  attempted to speak. “Whash isch’ it?”

  “Rock candies,”

  Jedian said. “They’re simply sugar, fruit juices, and water. You can get them

  all over Purple City at the markets. Different flavors, too.”

  Ena looked

  impressed, noticing the sudden change in Os’ demeanor. “What do they do?”

  Jedian shrugged.

  “You mean, how do they help Greay addicts? I have no idea. I just know the

  effects last around two days. Remember to eat one until your cravings subsides.

  But, be careful,” Jedian flashed Os his teeth. They were black and rotting out.

  “Sugar’s also addictive.”

  “Shanks,” Os

  said.

  “Where are you

  off to now,” Rwo asked. “We’re heading back to Constre.”

  “I just came

  from there,” Jedian said. “Melic cleaned up the tavern pretty nice. Restored

  the well, fed everybody that was left. Hard worker, that one. ”

  “She takes after

  her mother,” Ena said. “I’ll be eager to bathe when I get back.” She looked at

  Os. “You should, too.”

  “I thought

  Constre fell?” Os said to the person on his left, thinking it was Rwo. It was

  Drav. The mute man just shook his head.

  “It was about to,”

  Rwo responded. “Until we moved in a week ago. We’ve established a base there

  and began gaining the trust of the ones who are still left. Thevs still had

  some type of control due to the Onclers, so making a home in on their turf

  would have been, well, dumb.” Os understood. The Onclers wouldn’t have liked

  any plots against the Kingdom. The seeds for crops and the Greay came from

  Purple City. Settling down there would have been tricky, if not deadly. The

  three of them against a whole town of drunks, addicts, and hungry people didn’t

  seem like the wise thing to do.

  “I’m heading out

  east, towards the river past Thevs. Probably take me a two or three days to get

  there, maybe more if I don’t have to eat another horse.” Jedian eyed the horse

  attached to his caravan. Os had to hold himself back from letting out an audible

  “Oh!” because he then realized what the beef smell on his breath was, and why

  there was a singular hat-wearing horse on a two-horse harness.