A walk through the desert sounds easy on paper. Point in one direction and walk forward for hours on end. Drink when you’re thirsty, eat when you’re hungry, and piss when you need to. It is easy to say, but the reality is far harder than what we can ever imagine.

  Pushing a cart through the desert is nearly impossible as the wheels will get stuck in the sand. So, my men are forced to carry them on their shoulders till their backs ache. Even with our equipment, the heaviest among us will sink slightly into the sand, and some sink till the sand is up to their knees. No one can tell if we are swimming on land or trying to walk through water. Whatever it may be, the land despises us.

  That isn’t the main problem. The sun is our enemy here, slowly killing us as we march through its scorched lands. Back south, it wasn’t an issue as its rays will keep us warm during the coldest days. But here it boils our blood. Even the sand is hot to the touch, like a pan resting on an open flame.

  The moment we enter the desert, we take off our armour so we don’t have a stroke. Those who are stubborn refuse to take their armour off, and they are the first few to die in this wasteland. Some soldiers can’t handle the heat, so they chose to walk naked and cut off most of their fur in the vein hope of cooling down while dousing themselves with what is left in their water bottles. Though even when naked, the sun still kills the weakest among us.

  I struggle to believe this is winter. I hate to imagine what summer is like out here.

  Though when the sun does die down, our problems don't end. The night is freezing! The sand becomes almost as cold as ice and unbearably hard for some inconceivable reason. I see why we need firewood. Without them, most of us will go insane due to the changes from intense heat to intense cold.

  It makes no sense how temperatures can go through radical changes in this part of the island. There is nothing natural out here or any form of life. The centre of the island is filled with nothing but fine red sand, which clings to you and finds its way into the gaps of your clothing and armour. My armpits and waist are sore after the sand took its chance to grind against my skin. Galire is a mockery of nature, a place that shouldn’t exist under any normal circumstances.

  It has been two days already. Too long days, and already we are struggling. In two days, some of my soldiers are already dead. We didn’t bother to bury them. The longer we are in the scorching sun, the more likely we are to die out here. I can’t risk that, not when I am close to achieving my goal. So, we keep moving forward without looking back.

  Following behind Jackle, I sway and pant. He, on the other hand, keeps marching on, stopping only a few times to have a short water break. I suppose being in the desert for almost a year will make anyone get used to the wastes of Galire. Though if I struggle now, during the coldest moments of the year, how did he survive during its hottest?

  As we approach a steep hill, Jackle raises one of his hands, indicating for the army to halt.

  ‘We’re having a drink break?’ I ask him.

  Jackle gestures to me to follow him. ‘Not for you.’

  I follow him as we walk over the hill; the sight makes me furious. Cinari! After dropping my bag, I reach for my sword as my stomach turns and rumbles in anguish.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I snarl.

  ‘They are not our enemy, and I owe them.’

  Near the oasis is a small village built near a large oasis, their huts made of mud and grass, their livestock being only a few chickens and oxen. There are only a handful of Cinari, twenty at most.

  ‘They are vermin! They are the reason this desert is a wasteland.’

  Jackle cocks his crossbow and loads a bolt. ‘They are not our enemy. If we want to survive the desert, we need to cooperate with them.’

  I draw out my sword after I drop my pack. ‘You bastard! You dare threaten me, your king!? They are the reason we are at war, why we are enslaved!’

  My yelling catches the attention of my army, and they watch us both with our weapons at the ready. Seeing this, some ready their crossbows and aim at Jackle. He knows he won’t survive, but he doesn’t back down. I take a step towards him, and in response, he raises his crossbow and aims it at me.

  ‘They are not our enemy.’ Jackle calmly says to me.

  ‘Really? Then what are they? From what I can see, you are betraying your own kind.’

  ‘They have control of all the water in the desert; they bow to no flag but their own. If we attack them, everyone here will die. I am not protecting their kind, I am preventing everyone from suffering a horrible death.’

  He is full of shit! He owes them his protection, a promise that they won’t face my wrath. ‘I will…’

  ‘No, you won’t.’ Jackle cuts me off. ‘I am the only one who knows the land, I can take you north, and I can safely take you back south. But for us to safely get there with minimal casualties. You will have to follow my lead.’ Jackle gestures to the village. ‘Talk to the village elder, and you’ll see that they pose no threat to us or sympathy for the Cinari.’

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Midrax says, his axes at the ready. Karl stands near him, anxious about what is happening.

  I despise what Jackle is doing and why he is doing it. But he is right, I can’t kill him. He is too valuable to execute, even if he threatened me. I’ll play along, but only because I don’t want to stay here anymore.

  ‘No, only a miscommunication.’ I gesture at the two to come up, to overlook the village below before putting my sword away. ‘If anything goes wrong, kill everyone.’ My two lieutenants nod to me. Jackle, in response, uncocks his crossbow and walks to the village next to me.

  The Cinari in the village are different from the ones I usually see down south. Their skin is a solid black, their hair dark and woolly, but their eyes are interesting. Besides a normal Cinari eye having a violet iris, their entire eyes are a dark purple with white swirls in the middle. Most wear a loincloth, which only covers their genitalia; some wear straw hats, cloaks, and a few even wear nothing at all.

  With every step towards the oasis, the ground becomes harder and harder. It almost feels like the dirt of the South. Hard and not forcing you to sink into the earth. The red sand seems darker and livelier. Like the place is healing in some way. The oasis must be giving life to this land somehow.

  The oldest-looking member of the village walks up to us. He is slim, his hair is long gone, and their entire right eye is missing, revealing an empty socket.

  ‘Good to see you again,’ the elder says in a thick and unfamiliar accent to Jackle.

  Jackle nods, ‘likewise, Elder Anangu.’ He gestures to me. ‘This is Marak, my king. We desire to seek passage.’

  The man's smile fades as he looks at me. ‘King? Why are you travelling through my lands? With an army as well.’

  ‘You don’t need to know.’ I respond to the creature.

  ‘Oh, I think I do. The moment you set foot in the desert, my people already knew you were up to no good. With wagons and weapons, you came for war. So, why are you here?’

  Jackle whispers to me, ‘be honest with them. That is how we will get their water.’

  If that is the case, then fine, I’ll be honest with those barbarians. Talking to a Cinari is already a blow to my pride and dishonourable to my army. I promise them war, to slaughter their kind. Yet here I am, made to talk to them so I can have passage into their lands to quench the thirst of my dehydrated army.

  ‘I am heading north, I am fighting for the freedom of my people.’ A white lie, there is more to what I want to do.

  The old man nods and walks into his mud hut. Jackle and I walk in after him. Perhaps this is how these people greet each other. However, it is better than standing out in the sun.

  In the small hut are a few blankets and pillows. In the middle is a bowl of roots. The old man sits on the pillow furthest from the entry while Jackle and I sit down in front of him.

  ‘So you want to fight the Empire? Brave of you to do so.’ The old man says before he bites down on the root. ‘I heard of your kind, never thought I'd see a Lycan here.’

  ‘Dogs, not Lycans.’ I correct the old man.

  ‘That is what you call yourselves now? My apologies.’ The old man offers me a large white root, but I refuse. ‘We have no sympathy for the Empire here, they don’t bother us and we don’t bother them.’

  I raise a brow. ‘So why do they leave you alone?’

  ‘They don’t have any use for the desert or us, so they leave us alone. They say we are a part of the Empire, but really that is just a formality.’

  ‘So we’ll have passage through these lands?’

  The old man takes another bite of the root before he responds to me. ‘What do you have to trade?’

  So that is what the creature wants. He may not look or claim that they are one of them, but they are Cinari. Besides seeing a threat we pose to them, they always want something out of it. Which, in this case, it is our shit. Typical.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Food, seeds, if you have any. In exchange, we’ll share our water and you’ll have passage through our lands.’

  Of course, I’ll have to give up what my army needs. There is nothing out here, so finding food will be nearly impossible. My army will suffer if I make this deal, but they will suffer more if they don’t have water. We are critically low on our food rations; we only have three days of food left. We still have five days before we reach the North.

  ‘I can just simply kill you and take your water. Why should I accept your trade?’ I rest one hand on my sword.

  ‘We faced threats like you before. Walking into our desert with the intent to take anything your hand can grab onto. You can kill me, take the water here. But how long can you survive the desert when it runs out?’ The old man leans in, ‘we’re not the only tribe that lives in the desert. And once they hear about you, they will poison the water.’

  ‘The pond here is enough to fill every barrel and can last us multiple trips. We don’t need you.’ I chuckle at him; the idiot thinks I will buy his bluff. ‘Besides, you’ll only doom yourselves.’

  ‘So you’ll leave some soldiers behind in the waste? Can you be really sure to keep this oasis or the water you have under guard, all day and night, against my people? We lived in this waste for generations. There are other ways of finding water. The oasis here is just a convenient way of getting what we need. You do not. Can you truly put your people and war effort at risk?’

  My smile fades as I figure out he isn’t bluffing. If that is the case, then I have no choice but to play by their rules. Bastards remind me of the foolish Shaman. They are a problem I have to deal with later, a shame as I would like to dye the water crimson red.

  But, in practicality, I have to tolerate their presence for a little longer. Fortunately, their oasis will be good enough to restock my water supply.

  ‘Fine, I’ll accept your trade.’ I turn to Jackle. ‘Get the army to resupply, and prepare to hand over some food to the natives.’

  Jackle leaves the room as soon as he is given the order. Springing into action like he is excited to hear those words.

  The elder clears his throat. ‘Tell me, King Marak. What will you do when you arrive up north?’

  ‘I’ll kill them.’

  ‘Hm… anything else?’

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ‘Is there meant to be anything else?’ I wait for his response, but he doesn’t answer. ‘The Cinari are pests. You kill pests! No need to waste your breath on explaining.’

  He nods in agreement. Strange to see them nod along. ‘I have no love for the Empire. Nor do I care about your conflict. As long as you don’t harm the tribes of the desert and trade with us. We are not enemies.’

  Good, I prefer it to be that way for now. I continue my chat with the elder. Seeing what information I can gather from him. It is a shame that everything he tells me about the desert is vague or behind some symbolic meaning. The only thing I can tolerate about his existence is his dismissal and disapproval of the other Cinari on the island.

  Tomorrow, we will leave and head off to the next oasis, which should be three days away. Let’s hope I don’t have to trade with their kind again.

  We continue our journey through the red desert. We pass villages of dark-skinned Cinari, trading food for water. In the meantime, running low on everything. There is no more firewood, none of us have eaten in a day, and our equipment feels heavier as the red sand sticks to our stuff like it is glue, while almost being impossible to get off without the need for water. The colour of my fur is even becoming more orange with every passing day. I swear we are all slowly becoming like Jackle.

  Jackle taught some of the soldiers how to put a knife or a sharp blade at the end of the crossbows. He explains they can still use the crossbow as an improvised spear if they have to charge against the Cinari or if they get too close. A clever way to improvise and improve on an already perfect weapon.

  Midrax is keeping my army vigilant. Every night, he forces my soldiers to go through firing drills with their crossbows as well as different battle formations to utilise the weapons to their full potential. Well, in theory, they should. I need to see how they can work in practice.

  Karl for a few days tries talking to me, seeing if he can learn any new tips and tricks. I don’t hesitate to teach him what I know. He is young, and he does need to pick up a few things. But I hate the interaction, not because I hate his company, but because in some way, he reminds me of Alex.

  I wonder how he is doing, if he is okay and safe. If I come back home, will I be able to see his…

  No. No! I can’t. Not after what he did to me. Being sympathetic to those creatures, to show mercy to them after they killed Dust and murdered my daughter! No! It is best I don’t associate with his spawn.

  Cool wind breezes pass me, I am blessed. There are even dark clouds forming in the sky. It doesn’t protect me from the scorching sun, but it does make it bearable for a moment.

  Jackle seems anxious, worried about the win as if something is happening. He looks around, scanning the desert for anything strange. I suppose he has a fear of good things happening.

  ‘I can’t wait to get out of here.’ Karl complains. ‘We only have a day before we arrive north, right? Do you think we will find any Cinari?’

  I smirk, ‘if we are lucky. I am itching to kill some myself.’

  ‘And what else will you do? Surely you will relax, have fun, or I don’t know, read a book or something.’ Karl jokes.

  In all honesty, I only want to kill Cinari; that is my mission! Anything else is just a distraction from what I have to do.

  ‘We came here to do a job,’ I bluntly say to him. ‘Let’s not talk about luxuries just yet.’

  ‘Oh,’ he replies. ‘In that case, let’s win this war as fast as possible so we can go home.’

  I couldn’t agree with him more. The sooner we win, the sooner I can make them all suffer. Them fighting back is just delaying the inevitable, an annoyance I have to stomp out before it gets out of hand. However, their resilience is entertaining at least. A good fight can also bring out the best in my soldiers and even show them what is necessary to build a better future.

  The Cinari are parasites. They leech onto our labour for far too long while they make us suffer as we harvest the earth and their food. Removing them will not just free us, but also help us heal the island from the damage the knife-ear bastards have done.

  ‘Marak!’ Jackle shouts as he runs towards me in a panic. ‘Everyone needs to bring their blankets out and wrap them around their faces.’

  I raise a hand to him. ‘What is the issue?’

  Jackle points to a wall of red sand and dust in the distance approaching us. I’m sure a wall of dust and sand is just kicked up by the wind. An annoyance that doesn’t warrant being worried about.

  ‘That is the issue!’ Jackle panics before dropping his bag to reach for his blanket. ‘That sandstorm is going to get here soon, and we need to hunker down.’

  Karl raises a brow, ‘really, a sandstorm? I’m sure we can go through it like any other storm.’

  Jackle snarls at Karl as if he were a moron. ‘That is no ordinary storm! I’ve seen it kill good people before, and I will not let it happen again. So, do as I say and get everyone covered up and stay low before the storm arrives!’

  Karl looks at me, seeing if I agree with Jackle and if we should follow his demands. While it may look harmless, it will be unwise to doubt him when he is clearly worried.

  ‘Do what he says, and make sure our equipment and water are also covered. I don’t want any of our weapons to be damaged before we arrive north.’

  Karl nods before running off to repeat my order to thousands of other Dogs. Jackle puts his pack on the ground and covers his crossbow with his blanket after he covers his face and eyes with his cloak.

  Without hesitation, I drive my sword into the ground to be used as an anchor while I take my blanket out of my pack to wrap it around my face. Once I’m done, I wrap my pack around the hilt of my sword before taking a knee in front of it to hopefully shield my face from what might be coming.

  ‘Will this keep us safe?’ I ask Jackle.

  He looks at me, almost hesitant to give me a direct answer. ‘We can only hope.’

  My army does their best to cover our important equipment as well as to prepare themselves for the approaching storm. Dust and thunder rush towards us. The wind grows louder, cracking and bellowing as it sweeps over the land. With every second that passes, the wall of sand grows till it can even touch the sky above.

  I reach for May’s belt buckle, my thumb tracing over the flower etching. How will she react to the storm, to how massive it seems and how small I am in comparison? Maybe she’ll be scared, or perhaps brave in the face of it.

  Before I can figure out an answer, sand belts my face. I grasp the buckle near my chest while I hold onto my sword for dear life as the storm washes over me with a great force, knocking me back and engulfing everyone in a sheet of darkness. The crack of lightning gives us brief moments of light. The roar of the wind blocks out the screams and shouting, and not even I can hear my own voice.

  Shards of sand cut the hand that grips my sword. I struggle to keep my eyes open, as dust keeps finding its way into my face covering to blind me. Like water seeping through every crack. Even the air becomes dense and difficult to breathe. My throat dries and thickens with earth.

  A mound forms around my feet, filling every crevice of my clothing. I need to itch and scratch the sand out from the inside of my clothing, but I fear doing that will only cause me to drown in the ocean of red earth.

  No, I will not kneel! I lift the sword out from the ground, holding it up to shield my face from the wind. If my former masters can’t hold me down, why should nature keep me down?!

  I take my first step, only to be taken back by a gush of sand. Yet I keep moving forward. Against the raging storm.

  I will prove to the world, to whatever bastard god that exists! I will not be shackled to the rules of nature! Nor will I be held down! I am the conqueror of the South and the soon-to-be conqueror of the North. The world shall know me; they will know me to be the tamer of the red desert. For I am the true king of these lands! With every step I take, I take because it is my destiny to rule over this island and its people.

  Even if the storm knows no end, it tests me. Demanding that I prove my worth even more than I already have. Fine, two can play it that way. If the world shouts my name, it will understand why I am what I am. The world has taken my lover, murdered my daughter, and killed my friends. For I haven’t buckled under the pain, nor shall I yield when I fight back!

  I raise my sword into the air and shout towards the sky. ‘I am Marak!’ I scream my name over and over again. The world will hear me. For I have beaten the storm. If it can’t hold me down, what can?!

  ‘Strike me down!’ I cry out. Where are their Gods? The deities the bastards use to justify my enslavement. Where are they now when I am right here? I’ve killed their great warriors, taken down their sky demons, and forced them to pray for their Gods to smite me. Yet here I am, standing strong against the full power of nature. Proud and strong, for I am the inevitable change!

  As the storm dies down, the rays of light return to the world once shrouded in darkness. I’m alone, all by myself. The sand being my only company. No one is here to witness my triumph, to see that I can go against the storm. A shame, really, but that is what I have to live with. Luckily, my army isn’t hard to find.

  But my return is only met with the sight of bad news. The water barrels are full of red sand, and even our emergency food we will only have in case we are on the verge of starvation is covered in dust. Karl approaches me, his face completely red. ‘Marak, we…’

  ‘I know,’ I interrupt. ‘Can anything be salvaged?’

  Karl shrugs; he seems unsure. ‘I don’t know.’

  A shame, but that is the hand we are dealt with. I point north after brushing dust and sand off me. ‘Food and water are not far. We just need to keep moving.’

  Jackle looks at me, his crossbow at the ready. Seeing that I am ready to move, we follow him to where we need to go.

  My soldiers are becoming more and more doubtful with each passing day. There is no water, no food, nothing. To them, they are stuck in the desert, preparing for a slow death. One soldier voices their complaints during our march, believing that what we are doing is foolish. Midrax is quick to step in to shut them up.

  While the sun sets, the stars of the night begin to reveal themselves. Midrax catches up to me. ‘How far do we have to go?’

  ‘Soon,’ I reply.

  ‘That isn’t good enough!’ Midrax groans. ‘The men are growing restless; they worry that they will get stuck here.’

  ‘Then motivate them. They know the risk; they should be prepared for the worst to happen.’

  ‘No one knew about the heat, the storm, and the lack of everything.’ Midrax stubbornly responds to me. ‘They need to know if we are going to be there.’

  I calmly sigh. I know what he means in the end. The morale of the soldiers is important to maintain, and if we lose it, we will lose the war. If only my army has the backbone and the drive to just push on. The more they question, the more they will hold themselves back.

  Jackle raises his hand to halt everyone. I head towards him, seeing that we are stopping to set up camp and rest for the night. But when I approach him, my smile widens. There it is, the North.

  Trees sway, the grass as green as I imagine it to be. We finally arrived, and now our war can begin. Even with little light, the details are clear. Behind the forest, behind the trees, is a faint glint of light. The Cinari are there, and they seem to be numerous.

  ‘We are here.’ Jackle says to me as he waits for my answer on what to do next.

  I turn to Midrax with a wide grin. ‘Gather everyone. If they want food and water.’ I point towards the Cinari encampment. ‘They can take it from them.’