Constre looked worse than Thevs by far. The pile of ashes that were once buildings marked the beginning of the town’s edge. On the outskirts, the smell of cattle and horse corpses could choke a pig. Thankfully, Os had already thrown up his stomach contents before they ran into Jedian.

  The church steeple was the tallest building in the town. Much like the beacon of hope the towers of the Purple City provided for some, the church steeple in this town was the epicenter of the Christianity in Heill Kingdom. Saint Mary’s High Church was regarded as the holiest place in the kingdom.

  “Constre,” Ena said, almost mournfully. “You know, before King Jelpt slaughtered the natives, this is where they taught us Christianity. The natives didn’t know Jesus, but they would have liked to, I think. He didn’t seem as barbaric as the people claiming to know Him.”

  Os hadn’t thought of any sort of religion in years. Of course, his grandfather was a knight. A key pillar in chivalry is Christianity. When his daughter was born, Os’ mother, Christianity was instilled in her at a young age, and so was it instilled in Os. But, he had lost his way. The Greay made sure of that.

  As the cart began to slow and stop near the stables on the outside of town, a older man appeared, older than Drav. He began to unhook the horse from its harness and lead him into the stable. “Good girl,” he kept telling the horse. “I hope you got to see a little bit of the world. I have some bad news about your mother…” The man’s voice trialed off as he became overcome with hiccups and light sobs. By the time Os and the others left the cart, his tunic was covered in fallen tears and snot. Drav stayed behind as Rwo and Ena led Os into the city.

  In Thevs’, you couldn’t throw a rock and not hit a drunkard or someone going to get drunk. Constre was the opposite. From the town entrance where Os was, to the end of the main street where the church doors stood, the town breathed. Nearby, a woman stood near the inn handing out bread to the hungry. On the other end of the street, a man led a prayer to people down on their luck, most of them had bread. At the end of town by the church, Os could make out some people reconstructing a part of a missing wall. There were no drunks or Greay users here, at least not anymore. Constre was just a town down on its luck.

  “This is Constre,” Rwo said. “This is where we’ve called home the past week.”

  “It’s a lot different from Thevs,” Os said, still taking in the surroundings.

  “Not really,” Ena replied. “They’re the same. Both have been neglected by the church and state and succumbed to it. The only difference is Constre had fallen. Thevs is still staying afloat thanks to the Oncler family and the stream of income. Once all the drunks drink themselves to death and the addicts Black Out, the Onlcers will fall too.”

  "Except one of them will still smell like shit," Rwo mumbled, earning a punch in the shoulder from Ena.

  "Idiot. I still can't believe you did that."

  They led Os to the tavern where the girl was still handing out small loaves of bread. Her hands moved quickly, slipping bread into outstretched palms before the people shuffled away, heads low. Before they entered, Ena leaned close to the girl and whispered something. Their skin and hair looked nearly identical, like they could have been sisters.

  Os stared, his gaze lingering on Ena's burn scars. He couldn't help but wonder—did Ena resemble the girl before the fire?

  The girl glanced at him, her eyes darting up and then away as if his presence alone unsettled her. Without a word, she returned to her task.

  Inside, the tavern was hollow, eerily silent. There were no rowdy drunks weaving through the space or sharp-eyed assassins lurking in the corners. No treasure to pilfer, no mead-slick scent masking the rot of the town. To Os, it felt like a graveyard that someone forgot to bury.

  On the left, a narrow staircase climbed into the shadows. On the right, the bar stretched against the wall, stripped of any charm. Where rows of ale should have gleamed, there were only vials of medicine and scattered papers.

  “This is our home,” Ena said, her voice softer now. “The second floor is where most of the townsfolk without homes sleep. And down here is where we keep medical supplies and other essentials.”

  Rwo grinned as he caught Os eyeing the stairs. “Don’t worry, you’ve got a room,” he said, with a wink. “We’re not tossing you outside just yet.”

  “Pull up a chair, I’m sure you have questions for us.”

  Os did, especially since his mind was clearer than yesterday. The fog was still there, and he wanted more than anything to take a nap.

  “I’m not sure I understand… well, anything. I understand where you’re both coming from,” he took a seat at a table with Rwo and Ena. They sat opposite him. Their cloaks were off, and Os got a closer look at their bodies. Ena was clearly boiled at one point, her skin was red and the blister scars covered her arms and fingers. Rwo’s arms and chest were scarred with sword wounds. He had definitely seen some type of battles in his time. “But I don’t understand what you’re interest is in me, besides that I have light feet.”

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  “You want to take this one,” Ena asked Rwo. “I’m going to see if Melic needs help with the bread.”

  “Yes, go ahead.” Rwo watched Ena leave. Their muffled voices could be heard just outside the door. “The girl outside the door, with the bread – that’s our daughter.”

  “Daughter? I had no idea Ena was your wife.” Rwo nodded, pulling out a pipe. He puffed on tobacco, passing it to Os. He denied, and Rwo shrugged.

  “Yes, Ena’s my wife. We had Melic after we were found out and I was sentenced to exile.” Os remembered stories from his parents and grandfather. Any type of mingling or children born with the natives suffered ‘dire consequences’, which was a law enacted by King Jelpt and reinforced by King Phelch. The law wasn’t as fiercely obeyed these days, as the natives population was low and instances like these weren’t heard of often.

  “Is that what the brand is for?” Os knew it was a stupid question with an obvious answer, but it needed to be asked. Rwo nodded.

  “This is why I want to overthrow this government. Revenge. Love. A safe place for my family. Ena wants revenge more than me, I think. Her jury, the ones that tried to boil her alive are members of the Knights of the Purple Crown.” Os felt his stomach drop. For some reason, it all became bolder than he had previously thought. There was a mission, and he was a part of it.

  “How did… how did she escape?”

  Rwo took another few tokes off his pipe before answering. “I don’t know.” Os and Rwo let that statement hang in the air. “They made me watch her be lowered into this giant pot in the middle of town while they branded me.”

  Os felt his throat become tighter, as he could only imagine the pain each of them endured. To watch the one you love die was something that was tugging on his heart strings.

  “The pot was knocked over,” Ena said behind Os, making him jump. “I was lowered for a brief second, the oil crisping my skin. If not for outside help, I would be dead, and so would Melic.”

  Os sat stunned.

  “About half the Knights of the Purple Crown limp now, their legs scorched like my entire body is. Yet I stand tall, powerful, ready to strike at a moment’s notice—not cowering behind a suit of armor in some castle.”

  Rwo tapped his pipe against the edge of the table, spilling ash onto the wood. “Her ropes burned away in the oil. Once the pot tipped over, we ran for the hills,” he said. His tone carried a mix of pride and grim nostalgia.

  Melic stepped forward from behind her mother, her small hand brushing away the ashes into her palm. She gave Rwo a sharp, disapproving look.

  “Sorry, love,” Rwo muttered, giving her a sheepish smile. “Two weeks after we escaped, Ena gave birth. This is why I fight.” He reached up to ruffle Melic’s hair.

  Os shifted uncomfortably. “What did you see in me?” he asked. “How am I important to your cause?”

  Rwo leaned back, exhaling smoke that curled upward like a dying spirit. “You represent the people we’re trying to protect from tyranny. King Phelch and the king before him abandoned the rural parts of Heill. They left us to rot. An outcast knight, a scarred native with her daughter, and a banished priest… we don’t exactly scream revolution. But you? You could.”

  Ena picked up the thread of explanation. “You’re a symbol. Someone who can speak to the people in a way we never could. They need to hear from one of their own that enough is enough.”

  “There’s something else,” Rwo muttered. His tone darkened, and his gaze flicked to Ena. For a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, as though they were silently deciding who would break it.

  Finally, Rwo spoke. “Your grandfather helped us escape. He died for it. The king’s men found out about his involvement.”

  Os froze. The news felt distant, like hearing about the death of someone you’d met only a handful of times. He wasn’t close with his grandfather—not in his later childhood, at least. But knowing the old man had been a thread in this rebellion's story, something about it clicked.

  “You were looking for me, then?” Os asked, his voice quieter now. “That’s why you were in the Black Hoof that night?”

  Rwo’s eyes met his, unwavering. “Yes. And now that we’ve found you, you’re part of this, whether you like it or not.”

  Ena nodded. “We didn’t know your father, but he was sympathetic to our situation. When we were given our sentences, he fought valiantly to get it overturned. At least, for both of us to get banished. When that didn’t happen, he devised a plan to get us free. He was the one that kicked the pot over.”

  “As far as we knew of him, he wasn’t a Knight of the Purple Crown, but he was high enough in rankings that he could speak with the King on our behalf.” Rwo thanked Melic as she handed him his cup. She offered one to her mother and Os, both of which accepted. The lemon and mint water was refreshing to Os. The drink was nothing new to him, but for some reason, this time it tasted like the freshest lemon and mint he had ever tasted.

  Os shook his head. “He was not a highly ranked knight, I was told. I’m guessing he was found out shortly after you managed to escape?”

  “Yes. Someone saw us fleeing with him. We managed to slip away into another kingdom for a while, but he was sought out.”

  “You say that he fought bravely for your cause. I will take his place and fight bravely for you too. All of us.”

  With that, the door to the tavern opened, and in stepped Drav. Melic served him a drink, but he refused. He looked to be in some sort of panic, gestering with his hands to Rwo and Ena. He put up a hand across his face, splaying his fingers. His eyes were the only thing that were visible.

  Melic, Rwo, Ena, and Drav all rushed towards the backdoor of the tavern with frieghtend looks on their faces.

  “Knights! Os, more than likely, they’re just out for a stroll or something. They’ll take a stop here, expecting mead.”

  “Serve them, and offer them a place to sleep,” finished Ena. “They won’t accept the offer, but if you don’t, they’ll suspect something fishy.”

  “They’re probably coming up the road,” Rwo continued. “Drav, how many?” He held up three fingers on one hand, and two on the other.

  “Three knights, and two females. Horses?” Drav nodded yes. He took his hands and put one on either side of his head. “They’re in the stables already. That means they’ll be here any minute. Os, time to shine. Don’t let them catch on to who you are or that we’re hiding just outside. This is your first test.” And with that, Rwo hustled the group outside. As that door shut, the front door to the tavern opened.