The fifth bullet slid into the chamber, and the cylinder closed into the centre of the revolver with a click. Crouching down on the beige, grassy hill, a man with a black cowboy hat inspected his firearm. Brushing aside his dark brown denim jacket, he holstered the revolver on his right hip.

His dark blue eyes stared down at his left wrist, where a pristine golden watch sat in contrast to his rugged wear.

“I’m coming to see you. I shouldn’t have taken so long, I should have been there sooner, but I’m finally coming to see you.”

Horse-drawn carriages were passing over the surrounding dunes, where the tip of the sun stretched above the horizon. The man stood up, then brushed the dust off his black jeans.

He looked down from his small hill. “You ready to go?” he shouted down towards the flattened valley at the back of a thin frame who was seated on top of a thin fur blanket. The figure turned his head to face the man, revealing a bony face hiding behind wavy, unkempt black hair. Brushing it away, he looked a quite a bit younger than the other man; resembling a teenager with his large, round, dark eyes.

“Yeah, I guess so," the younger dark-eyed man replied, putting on torn, dusted boots before standing up. Leaning down, he folded the blanket in half and then rolled it up so he could carry it under his shoulder. The young man waited at the bottom of the hill for the man with a cowboy hat to join him.

The two found themselves at a thin tree with two horses hitched to it, alongside a small gravel road. A pitch-black horse lay resting on the ground, and a smaller white one with brown spots stood grazing.

“Get up!” The man with the cowboy hat shouted as he approached the lying horse. Grunting, the horse hoisted itself up with the assistance of the man. “Good girl.”

After untying the rope from the tree, the younger man lifted himself up on top of his horse. The man with the cowboy hat followed suit. Giving a slight nod, the two men slapped the reins and the horses began trotting forward. Once they had turned left onto the gravel road, the men whipped again and the horses advanced from a trot into a gallop.

For almost an hour, they traveled on the gravel road, passing a few other riders and carriages along the way. There wasn’t much out here in terms of development or housing, as the land was not fertile and quite hilly, but they did pass a large steel factory, decorated with little silhouettes, probably guards and horses. It was most likely an ore processing plant, judging by how much smoke rose from the wide funnels on top, and the singular railroad connecting to the plant, which sat large mineral-carrying cars.

On the road in front of him, the man with the cowboy hat could see two figures standing in front of the gravel road. As they galloped closer, he could clearly see that they were holding long repeaters, and dressed in all black; Black cowboy hats, black leather jackets, black shotgun chaps, and black high boots.

The one on the left held out his hand, and the two riders came to a halt, the horses skidding to a stop a couple meters away from the two men dressed in black.

“Got a toll card?” The man on the left asked the rider with the cowboy hat, as the two men circled the riders, carefully inspecting the horses.

The man with the cowboy hat gestured to the hilly plains as he made his reply, “No, we’re just riding ‘long the plains here and it got too hilly, ’n the road ended up intersecting with our path.”

The two men dressed in black reconvened at the centre of the road, each made a slight nod at each other, and then turned to the two riders. The one on the left, a portly man with a grey moustache, said, “C’mon now, this company property, gotta pay toll to use these roads.”

The man in the cowboy hat rose his voice. “I said, we were just riding along these plains here and it got too hilly, and the road ended up intersecting with our path!”

Faster than the blink of an eye, the man with the cowboy hat reached for his waist, hit the hammer and drew his gun, pointing it at the portly man. Time came to a halt, and in the corner of his eye, the other company guard raised his gun in slow motion toward the teenager.

With the flick of the wrist and the pull of the trigger, a bullet skyrocketed through the chest of the guard. Dropping his repeater at his feet, the man fell backwards onto the ground.

Turning his head to his fallen partner, the portly man’s mouth hung open in shock. The thin rider’s eyes also widened at the guard lying on the ground, bleeding out.

“Ride!” The man with the cowboy hat shouted as he slapped the reins. Breaking from his momentary shock, the younger man regained attention and drove his horse forward. Jumping out of the way, the portly man narrowly avoided being crushed by the thundering legs of the galloping horses. Breathing heavily, he scrambled for his gun after he had caught his breath. He aimed the repeater at the head of the man with the cowboy hat, who was already over a hundred yards away, and pulled the trigger.

The shot had missed, and the man cursed himself as he reloaded his gun. But by the time he had done so, the two riders were already too far away.

After the portly man was out of sight from the rider’s rearview, they slowed their horses to a trot.

“Why’d you shoot him, Billy? You didn’t have to shoot him,” the younger man said.

The man with the cowboy hat turned to look into the dark, innocent eyes of the teen. “He was gonna shoot us.”

“You coulda shot his arm, or somethin," the younger man replied.

Billy scowled, and then pointed a finger towards his partner. “Listen, Damian, you don’t complain ‘bout the way things’re done, when you’re too pussy to do anything yourself. You could get us outta these situations, but ya chose not to, so then it’s in my hands.” Billy lightly slapped the reins, and his horse jogged off.

Damian let out a strong exhale as he shook his head violently. He slapped the reins, and his horse followed Billy’s on the road westward.

“Fucking hell," Billy tilted his head back as he chugged the last few droplets of whiskey from his flask. The blistering sun stood directly above them, and whatever Billy drank, he sweated out in a matter of minutes. After so long, he still hadn’t really gotten used to the heat. They were still riding along the gravel road, and while it was less bumpy, it was just as dry and dead.

While Damian seemed exhausted, the teen was doing quite fine in the heat, and his skin hadn’t burned at all. Lucky little Damian, he thought to himself.

Raising his hand onto his forehead to block the sun from his eyes, Damian intently stared off into the distant West. After squinting for several seconds, a look of excitement appeared on the man’s face.

“There it is!” Damian shouted, pointing towards the western horizon. “We’re finally here!”

Billy raised his left hand to cover the sunlight from his eyes. Off in the distance, were several fluttering sails, some black, some white, each with different small symbols which he couldn’t quite make out. Billy could just barely see the boats sticking out of the water, adjacent to a large wooden dock. The coastline was the first body of water he’d seen for several weeks.

A soft smile came across Billy’s face. He turned his hand so he could read his watch; the hour hand was just past noon.

“Only a few minutes late, too," Billy nodded.

As they drew closer to the dock, Billy could see that there were two large frigates moored on the dock; he guessed they were both slightly over a hundred feet long. They were both well kept, and made entirely of wood, with several large black sails, each decorated with a white four-pointed star, much like that on a compass rose.

“There it is," Damian said, pointing to the ships.

Billy and Damian slowed their horses as they came within a few feet of the entrance to the dock, a wide wooden ramp which led down to sea level. In front of the ramp stood a man with a repeater and a brown cowboy hat.

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“This is private property. State your business.”

Stepping off his horse, Billy responded to the man, “We’re here to meet an associate who works here, Benjamin Hollis. We’re doing a deal with Olitheon Transport and his crew.”

Billy could see dozens of men carrying crates and supplies onto the ships from the dock. He pointed to a tall, broad man with dark skin, “That’s him, right there.”

The guard turned and cupped his hands over his mouth, and shouted, “Benjamin Hollis!”

The tall, dark man, who was holding a crate in his hands, turned to look at the three men standing above the dock. Seeing Billy, he carefully placed down the large crate on the platform and ran through the dock and up the stairs to the three men.

“These two your associates?” The guard asked Benjamin.

“Yeah, gotta take ‘em over to new docks in Wreathward. They, uh, architects," Benjamin replied.

The guard nodded, and then turned back to Damian and Billy. “Alright. Welcome to Olitheon Transport. We hope everything is fast and secure.”

Damian stepped forward onto the dock, but Billy raised his arm to block him.

“Wait, wait wait. What about the horses?”

“What about ‘em?” The guard asked.

“We’re gonna be gon’ for a while, and I don’t expect y’all gon’ keep ‘em here n’ feed ‘em," Billy replied. The guard leaned over to look at the horses.

“They—are they both Trentanians?” The guard asked.

Billy nodded. “Ya got a good eye.”

Stroking his chin, the guard looked up and away. “Hm, I’ll give ya— two hundred fifty for the both of ‘em.”

Scowling, Billy was tapped on the shoulder by Damian, who said, “It’s not a horrible price, and if we leave them here they’ll be starved or stolen.”

“Can’t you, like," Billy put his fingers on his head and then pointed them towards the horses, and then lowered his voice so just Damian could hear, “connect and direct them back home?”

Damian shook his head. “A journey that far—it'd be impossible, especially without a line of sight.”

Billy looked back to his horse, who let out a loud snort. He didn’t want to let her go. Not only was she strong, fast, and a beautiful all-black Trentanian— a real one of a kind— but she had served him well for nearly six years; in fact, she was the only real reliable thing in Billy’s life.

Billy took a deep sigh. “Fine. They’re yours," pulling the guard to his chest, Billy whispered in his ear, “You better fucking take care of ‘em.”

Releasing the man from his grip, Billy held out his hand to receive the money. The guard, a bit startled, reached into his left jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of banknotes. They were made of beige, thin paper, with some writing printed on each side. The top of every banknote was labelled “Currency of Apathasaw," and every corner and the centre had a number.

The man handed Billy two one hundred banknotes and one fifty. The two gave each other an awkward nod, and the guard walked up to the horses to grab their leads, as Billy and Damian followed the dark-skinned man, Benjamin, down the ramp onto the dock. Standing on his tiptoes, Billy looked back to see his girl one last time, watching her being pulled away by the stranger.

The ships were absolutely massive. Even a normally disinterested Billy ogled at the tall poles which held up the majestic, waving flags, each ship carrying four masts. Cannons stuck out on the deck, and both ships were very well-maintained. Damian’s eyes glossed over every inch of the ship’s starboard.

“Watch it!” A voice shouted from behind the two men. Damian turned around frantically, and Billy glowered as he turned his shoulder to see who had shouted; it was a bald man carrying several crates in his arms, hastily marching toward the farther frigate.

“Fucking asshole," Billy said, charging forward, but he was stopped by Benjamin, who turned around calmly, standing in the way.

“Don’t. Already risky business, can’t afford to have scene," Benjamin said, staring down at Billy.

Fuming, Billy shook his head, and then stomped his boot on the deck. “Fucking dickwad.” Passing the first frigate, the three men continued to walk in the same direction as the crate carrier.

As they had reached the ramp leading to the deck of the second frigate, Benjamin turned to face the other two men. Towering over them, he held out his finger as if he was a teacher lecturing naughty schoolchildren.

“No trouble. Already takin’ big enough risk bringin’ you. Only doin’ this ‘cause we’re friends," Benjamin said.

Billy chuckled. “No, you’re doing this ‘cause we’re given’ you three large," he replied.

Benjamin shook his head. “Give half to rest of crew so they don’t rat! And still could lose job," he pointed a long, thick finger at Billy’s chest, and spoke slowly, annunciating each word. “I only doin’ this ‘cause we’re friends.”

“Alright, alright," Billy rolled his eyes. “Thank you, oh kind friend," he said sarcastically, tipping his hat towards Benjamin, smirking.

“Agh, Billy," Benjamin sighed, shaking his head. “Now you make me want to reconsider.”

Billy’s playful eyes turned into a harsh glare, which was quickly matched by Benjamin. Staring down at Billy, the massive man clenched his fist, as Damian watched with fearful eyes.

In synchrony, Billy and Benjamin exploded in a fit of laughter. The two men relaxed their stances, and Damian looked confusedly at both men.

“Get on boat already, you silly fuck," Benjamin said, slapping his arm around Billy’s back and pulling him towards the ship’s deck. The two men continued their chuckling as they walked over the ramp, followed by a confused Damian.

The deck of the ship was made of wood planks, and filled with several dozens of barrels and crates. It was quite an exquisite ship, probably the largest and most fancy ship Billy had ever seen. A couple of cannons sticked out of each side, and the top of two large wheels with wooden bars were sticking out from over each side of the ship.

“What’s that?” Billy asked, pointing to the wheel on the starboard side. It had a similar shape to a water wheel, but was much larger in size.

Looking over to what Billy was pointing at, Benjamin’s eyes lit up. “Ah yes, you have not been on steamship ever?” He asked rhetorically. “It’s attached to contraption below deck which moves us forward when wind not blowing.”

Damian nodded. “So we won’t be stuck at sea too long. Good," Billy replied.

“It still be about two weeks," Benjamin laughed. “And they say Nexon freezes time at sea.”

Billy groaned. “Yeah, those fucking Gods never help anyone, do they. But year after year, fucking idiots go and kill a cow for them or some stupid shit like that.”

“So these are our hostages!” A loud, friendly voice boomed towards the three men. It was a large but robust man wearing a long black fur coat, which blended perfectly with his long, scruffy black beard. Long black hair covered the sides of his face, and along with his beard, made it barely visible, although the movement of his beard made it obvious he was smiling.

“Morn’ Cap’n," Benjamin said to the man.

“Mornin’, Benjy," the Captain replied, waddling over. “So these are the sorry souls that are paying us to smuggle them across the sea? Well, are you boys ready to smell nothing but fish, salt, and shit for the next two weeks?” The Captain asked jokingly.

“To be honest, I’m a little nervous," Damian replied.

The Captain moved over to Damian, placing his arm around the man’s shoulder. “Nervous? What for?” A light chuckle escaped through the man’s beard. “You haven’t been listening to Benjy’s stupid stories, have ya?”

A confused look came from Damian, who checked Benjamin’s expression for any clue of what the Captain was going on about, but received none. The Captain turned Damian around so that they were now facing the port side of the ship, and the endless blue ocean.

“Look, there aren’t any giant monsters with tentacles that grab sailors, or mermaids that make men dive into the waters, or schools of man-eating piranhas. There aren’t even many pirates at sea anymore. If I had to say one good thing about that new empire, it’s that they’d done a good job hunting down every last one of those pirates," Billy’s fist and jaw clenched at the mention of the empire. “The only pirates that could even possibly still be alive are up in no man’s land to the north, and that’s on the opposite side of the world from where we’re goin’," the Captain gave Damian a reassuring pat on the back, and then waddled off to the back of the ship.

Staring at the wide ocean, Billy walked over to the port side of the ship, leaning against the dock to get a better view, followed closely after by Damian and Benjamin.

“I give him ten percent of what you give me," Benjamin said.

“No wonder he’s such a jolly bastard," Billy replied.

Benjamin smiled. “I can take you guys down to where you’ll be staying.”

“Nah," Billy said, continuing to stare at the ever-blue horizon. “I think we’ll stay out here for a while.”

Benjamin nodded to himself, and they sat in silence a little awkwardly, staring out into the big blue ocean.

“You got anything to drink though?” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow at Benjamin.

“Not for you," he replied.

“What are you talking about? There must be something— whiskey, rum, gin,—beer?” Billy asked.

“Not included in three grand,”Benjamin replied.

Billy sighed. “Ah, you fucking cheap asshole.”

“Ah, fuck you, Billy," Benjamin replied, moving away from the side of the ship. “I help you, and you treat me like this.”

Gathering a ball of spit in his mouth, Billy shot it out over the deck and into the ocean. A distraught Damian looked at both of his friends, his fingers tapped quickly against the side of the ship.

“Everyone, everything, on board?” Billy recognized the voice as the Captain’s, who shouted from the front of the ship. “Yeah? Alright! Jaxon, Attan, release the anchors! Robby, go start the engine! Benjy, Silvio, make sure we’re clear to depart! Time to set sail!”

An offended look stayed on Benjamin’s face. Moving away from Damian and Billy, he said, “Well, I have other things to do now anyway. Enjoy staring at ocean.”

Spitting on the deck, Benjamin ran over to the front of the ship, grabbing a monocular from a small hook on the inside of the ship. He put it over his left eye, examining the waters ahead.

Shouting and frenzied footsteps were heard all around them as the frigate departed from the dock. Damian’s frantic looks, turning at every sound and observing every member of the crew contrasted with Billy’s unmoved state, still staring out into the ocean.

“Two whole weeks at sea without any fucking booze," Billy grumbled. “Wait," Billy said, turning to a wide-eyed Damian. “You can use your little, uh, tricks— to make one of the crew get us some drinks.”

Damian scratched the back of his head, his gaze falling to the floor. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, Billy," Damian replied.

“Why not? I use everything I’ve got, and risk my skin to get you shit, and you just lean back along for the ride, pretending that you don’t have these super fucking useful abilities! Why do you have to be such a fucking pussy!?”

Damian stepped back from an aggressive Billy, still refusing to make eye contact. “I’m—I’m gonna go see what Benjamin’s doing," Damian said, scurrying away from Billy.

“Yeah, you go fucking do that," Billy replied, leaning back up against the portside of the boat.

Spitting into the ocean, which was now flowing along the sides of the moving boat, Billy let out a deep sigh. Two whole weeks, at sea, without anything to drink. Only worth it ‘cause I’ll finally get to see you again, pops.”