And soon, the fourth day began in the Western Lands for the dethroned king.
Aris was woken by his stomach, screaming in urgent need of food.
He didn't feel good at all. He had spent the entire night on edge, wary of the fennecs—creatures that knew him well by now. At any moment, a pack could emerge from nowhere and tear him apart.
But they hadn't. For two reasons.
The first was that they only attacked the dead. The living didn't interest them. They waited patiently for one of their own to die before pouncing on the body.
"Pathetic creatures."
The second reason was the rain. At the slightest drop, the beasts would hide—under rocks, underground, wherever they could. Aris didn't know why, but it worked in his favor. At least, he was still alive.
He stood up to inspect the surroundings. His eyes soon landed on the large dead fennec he hadn't eaten the day before.
Its body was torn open, and to his disgust, insects had already made a home inside it. Aris almost vomited again but forced himself to hold it in—he couldn't afford to empty an already empty stomach.
"Come on… I've seen corpses in worse shape. Why am I freaking out over this thing?"
It was true. He was weak—seriously weakened. Still, he had to eat the damn thing.
Aris turned around and looked at the underside of the rock that had served as his shelter. It was cracked and jagged, with small spikes sticking out everywhere. Its surface was uneven and rough all over—nothing about it was smooth.
"I see."
Aris placed his hand behind one of the sharp rocks jutting from the wall and pulled with all his strength. It didn't budge an inch.
"Come on. I used to be the strongest king, remember?"
He pulled harder, bracing his legs against the jagged surface. It wasn't easy—one wrong move and his feet would get shredded by the spiky rock.
"Shit."
Still, Aris managed to find a decent balance and pulled even harder. Suddenly, the rock gave way, and he flew backward.
He landed hard on his back and felt something beneath him. He already knew what it was, but he didn't want to look. When he finally rolled over, he saw the fennec's corpse—flattened like a pancake. His fall had crushed at least half of the insects that had been crawling all over it. Since it didn't have any internal organs left, none of them spilled out of the massive hole in its body.
"Great."
Aris stared at the corpse, got down on his knees in front of it, and, full of disgust, took the sharp rock and started cutting it open. He was looking for any part that the bugs hadn't touched—something he could burn and eat. The process made his stomach scream louder with pain.
It was crazy how simple things used to be.
Aris had been a king. Food came to him—he didn't go looking for it. That was just normal. Sometimes, in a rare show of kindness, he'd help the kitchen staff prepare meals.
Lian was his chef. A tall blond man with deep brown eyes. His face always looked tired—but when he smiled… well, honestly, it didn't help much.
His face still looked tired. Just with a bit of joy layered on top.
But the moment Lian started working, he became a different man. His gaze turned focused and sharp, and his hands became true instruments of the kitchen. No one in Arkis—maybe even in the whole world—was better than him.
Every time Aris received one of his dishes, he was filled with overwhelming joy and couldn't help but laugh.
"HAHAHA! Lian, may I be struck down the day I find a better chef than you in all of Arkis!"
"You shouldn't say that, Your Majesty. The world is vast."
"I know, Lian."
"What will you do the day I'm no longer here?"
*
Aris smiled as the memory came back to him. Of course, he had assumed his head chef would be there until the end of his days.
But now...
He was dissecting a creature that had been dead for over eight hours and was crawling with insects. What a miserable fate.
Eating beasts was strictly forbidden—and for good reason. No one really knew what diseases might be hiding inside the countless threads that made up their bodies.
But Aris had no choice.
He was starving.
The creature didn't offer much. Mostly skin and some kind of vague organ matter. Nothing special. The large hole he'd made earlier with the sign's stake had at least helped empty the thing out.
He tried to pull out the cleaner parts—the ones not totally infested. In the end, he managed to salvage a fair amount of skin, one strange organ that looked like a small heart without arteries, and two small red lumps he really didn't want to identify.
He left the head aside, taking only the tongue, which he tore out.
"What a nightmare."
Aris stood up and looked at his grim little collection. The countless threads in the creature's body were even more visible now, and it looked absolutely grotesque. But it was all he had.
Soon, he ripped another stone from the wall and began striking it against the first.
Of course, Aris had no idea how to start a fire. That wasn't exactly something a king ever needed to worry about. Usually, he stayed in military camps, surrounded by soldiers who ensured his comfort and safety. But now, there was no one. So he went with what he assumed was the most primitive method—rubbing two stones together.
And, of course, it didn't work.
The stones were too wet. It rained constantly in the Western Lands. The rocks had absorbed moisture almost nonstop—there was no way to produce even the faintest spark.
Aris cursed.
There was nothing he could do to cook his food. Which meant there was nothing he could do to avoid eating it raw.
He looked at his collection of meat again, then quickly turned his eyes away. If he was going to get it down, he couldn't look at it.
He set the skin aside. He had better plans for that later. But the two red lumps and the strange little organ—those were the only things on the menu for now.
He stared at them for a long time, took a deep breath, and picked up one of the red balls...