Indented lines marked the dust track, drawn from countless wagons rolled over. Orion and Flynn walked alongside holding lamps, watching their fronts and backs for any carriages they could hitchhike. Flynn had initially been chatty, babbling on about Visgamar and its quirks once Orion had told him he was new to the area. But as time passed, Flynn began to sulk and frown over things they had been laughing about minutes before. Moreover, he slowed as his steps became trudges and his breaths became wheezes.

An hour after the mood change, Flynn abruptly stopped and began scavenging through his backpack. Orion stopped a few steps ahead and followed suit, taking his bottle out and resting his feet. Due to the dark, it was only when Orion walked over he realised his companion had no interest in water, or even food, instead putting them aside his lamp as he ravaged his bag.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Flynn was unwrapping old, bundled newspapers, his eyes bright and mouth dribbling. “You don’t know? It’s a Visgamar speciality,” he said as he opened it.

Orion’s nose caught onto the scent before his eyes recognised it. A rich nutty smell, as sweet as honey. These nuts were burnt black, unlike the ones he had capsized by the dock, but they still shared the distinctive odour of manure.

“What are those?”

“Gajoi nuts, we call them. They got different names under different cities. Smells nice, eh?” Flynn responded while crushing one in his hand, bolstering the smell. “So smooth, love it,”

“Why do you eat them?” Orion asked, his anger seeping in.

Flynn glanced over as he popped the nut into his mouth. “Oh, you’re one of them, eh? I can’t function without these, mate.” His eyes glazed over, and his body collapsed onto itself as he finished.

Before Orion could even check his companion’s state, Flynn arose and went about wrapping the remaining Gajoi nuts. His eyes were clear now, and only the perverted smile accompanied by the senseless nodding suggested he was high. Seconds passed without Flynn acknowledging Orion or his repulsed stare.

“Are you ok?” Orion warily asked, ready to cast Giah any second- it was dark, and no was around for miles.

Flynn glanced at Orion and grinned. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, mate. Can’t function without these.” he mumbled. He repacked his bag and started walking, Orion tagging behind.

The quiet that had been in between them grew into a silence, the silence only drawing longer every time Flynn stopped to collapse over another Gajoi nut.

Neither of the two had spoken in hours when Flynn suddenly started.

“It was long ago, far in the past when I began, mate. Those times were good, I’ll tell you. Mummas angry, just eat a nut and forget that bitch. People wanna beat you up for debts, just eat a nut and let ‘em do it. Didn’t get the job, just eat a nut.”

Orion’s eyes bore into Flynn’s back but he carried on undeterred.

“Ahhh,” he shouted, sending his arms up. “It felt so good, Jax. Best feelings ever. Even better than sex. But,” he said as his arms plummeted, swinging by his side, “The feeling drains. Every time I ate the nuts, less of a treat, more of a necessity. It started with me wanting to do it. Then, I had to do it. Now, I need to do it,”

Orion dropped his guns-drawn glare and looked to the ground. Was this how his sister had fallen into the trap? Just a treat at the parties with the other girls, then honey to her tongue, and finally air for her lungs.

“Y’know, it got boring when the choice got taken out. I had been choosing to take it before, choosing to be happy with my head in the clouds.” His voice quivered. “Now my heads gotta be there, or I’ll die; no choice, no fun.”

The uncomfortable quiet stretched on until Orion spotted a well-lit carriage behind them. He patted Flynn on the shoulder, and they waited by the side. The two elderly narkois pulling the wagon cast their heads down dispiritedly when they saw the men standing in lamplight.

Narkois were large lizards, almost as tall and wider than humans, with forked tongues and crushing molars. They were, however, tameable herbivores. They had round yellow eyes and scaly skin. Their inordinate leg muscles and feet meant they were great for pulling heavy loads. Despite this, only the lower classes put up with the accompanying downsides of them being slow and nocturnal.

And like the tired animals had dreaded, Orion and Flynn were effortlessly let on after they claimed they mission, only for the elderly farmer to babble on about Fexa the Gracious. It was what she would have done, the farmer humbly said. Orion ignored the preachings of the Eastern God as he sat beside the farmer, staring into the oppressive darkness. Flynn joined the two for a while but spent most of his time besides the farmer’s unsold wares and bought treats.

Surprisingly, the farmer didn’t seem to care at all; maybe he knew nutheads only cared for one thing. Perhaps Fexa the Gracious allowed nutheads, considering how much money and jobs they made for her territories.

By the time they reached their destination on the path, it was daybreak, and the farmer had given up on his efforts, apparently not as big a fan of his voice as Orion had mused. Flynn rarely stirred, only ever getting up to open his bag. In foresight, Orion had only thought of his body’s safety when grouping up with Flynn: even if a gang of Flynns betrayed him, he could still get the upper hand. Next time, he also had to think of his mind’s wellbeing.

They got off, thanked the farmer, peered at Flynn’s map, and headed further north for an hour until they finally saw Marshall’s Keep.

The swamp water was murky-green, and moss dominated the land. There were many downed trees to jump over and rotted wood and animal shit to brush off. Contrary to Orion’s expectations, there weren’t any loud roars or monsters galore. Only the croaks of frogs and the zipping of flies reassured them the swamp was still alive.

It appeared the Rockskin had played aplenty in its new stamping ground.

Surprisingly, Flynn had gotten his act together since entering the swamp as he had stopped sniffing at his bag every few seconds. Instead, he gripped his longsword and shield as he trod carefully. Were it not for his face being the same and his eyes being as bloodshot as before, Orion would’ve guessed him to be another person.

It was while Orion was trying to ignore the marshy reek that Flynn bumped into him and pointed into the distance. There lay a gluttonous reptile at least two metres long and a metre wide. It was half the height of a human, but something, mainly the bulging stomach, told Orion they would die if it rolled over them. Its famously hard and gritty skin looked soft and sticky from the dried swamp water.

It was tearing into a flesh fountain with claws the size of hands, voraciously sinking its teeth into the meat as if there was actually space in its belly.

Flynn tapped on Orion’s shoulder and pointed to the tail that made up half the beast. “Don’t get near that,” he whispered, his tone sharp, unrecognisable with the former him. “The claws are nothing but get close to that tail and it’ll feel like a bull to the balls. Don’t die, alright? Get near it and distract it. I’ll come from behind and cripple it, and then we’ll just chip it dead. Simple.”

Orion opened his mouth, but Flynn continued. “If it’s not so simple, see that cave there,” he said while pointing to a cavemouth as wide as Orion’s shortsword, “Run in there. If my cripple fails, we can’t outrun it, no matter how fat it is.” he finished.

He nodded to Orion and sneaked away, the Rockskin deaf to the wet slaps of his feet circling it.

In little time, he was in the trees behind the beast.

Orion stared at his hands and considered using Giah. He was sure he could kill the beast alone if he went all-out, but then he’d have to kill Flynn, and he didn’t want to kill indiscriminately. He glanced towards the dirtied, ginger man crouching and nodded. Since Flynn was so confident, he’d at least amuse his plan.

He clenched his shortsword as he creeped softly, not looking where he stepped but instead into the beast’s oblivious eyes. The second they snapped over would be the second that mattered.

First step: still blood on its mind.

Second step: its teeth gorging flesh.

Third step: it scratched its nose.

Fourth step: it resumed eating.

Fifth step: its tongue slipped out and licked the blood off its eyes.

Sixth step: the eyes flickered over.

Orion sprinted the last few metres, the Rockskin dropping the carcass and raising its arms.

Too slow.

He flicked at its hanging tongue with his tip and fell back, the monster clawing at air.

It almost launched itself at Orion but instead stopped and turned.

He couldn’t see clearly due to the bulking monster in front of him and the blasted murky water, but he could clearly hear the scream.

“RUN!” Flynn screamed.

Orion didn’t process the words - that was not allowed in Zakari military training - he simply followed. He was in the cave before he even realised what he was doing. He whacked his head and swore, picking his arse up to get outside when another figure tumbled through.

Flynn landed on his chest and spat pungent blood into the dark. They had fucked up…