It was hot. The sun was high and the skies were clear. Everyone smelled worse than Nikolai did. All these things merely added to the dislike he had for the balding man as he watched him step around in his black leather shoes. The blunt-spiked dirty-looking overcoat he wore was made of crocodile hide that had been sewn together. Nikolai was sure it was an imported item because there were no crocodiles in Brymlight. What they had was mostly clothing made from deer or cow pelts, tailored together with the signature blue or grey cotton that grew only in Brymlight. But what Nikolai hated most was the stupid T-shaped beard that grew below his lower lip. How he had achieved that -- and why he had allowed it to remain -- was simply beyond comprehension.

"Thank you all for your patience," Oswald announced as the crowd fell into silence. "I apologize for being late. I was inspecting the new batch of antidotes."

Nikolai and Lana clicked their tongues at this while most of the crowd nodded with approval.

"There is only so much we can make at a time because it is a terribly delicate process," the mayor explained. "There's --"

"Why is it so expensive?" someone asked loudly.

"Five hundred Silph!" a woman yelled.

"This is daylight robbery."

"We have children!"

"FIVE HUNDRED SILPH."

Oswald raised his hands again. The crowd faded into silence once more. They seemed more obedient than sheep when lives were at stake. Either that or everyone just wanted to get it over and done with. Being under the sun for so long was not a favourite past time for any Brymlightian.

"There is reason for this, I assure you," Oswald said loudly. He nodded to himself, pausing for effect. He paced up and down the stage, looking at the crowd that was growing impatient. "But you have to listen to me. The quicker I can complete my speech, the quicker the cure can be sold again!" Nikolai thought he saw a smirk flash across the man's face right before it vanished. "A lot of research and manpower went into the discovery of this cure. My friends, you know how the world works. When we are desperate, others will take advantage of that. And these people demanded monstrous fees. This isn't even including the manufacturing costs and the materials we had to obtain from the outside. And by 'outside', I mean beyond the borders."

"You mean the blackmarket?" a man called out.

"Yes," the mayor replied without hesitation. Nikolai and Lana exchanged glances. They knew that he pulled strings for nearly everything he did, and that his connections ran deep within the lines of crooks though neither of them had expected him to admit that immediately.

A chorus of protests bombarded Oswald but he stood his ground. The guards standing at both sides of the stage, struck the bottom of their spears onto the cobblestone ground, demanding order.

"I know how you feel about the situation," the mayor said. "Believe me. It pains me to have had to do it. But it was a necessary evil, and I'd gladly do it over and over again if it means that everyone will finally be free of the plague."

The yellings dropped to hesitant murmuring. It was such an obvious ploy to win the hearts of the people, and yet Nikolai felt that most of them were already bought.

"So, yes," Oswald continued. "They're expensive. The troubles that came with bringing in those materials have been unforgiving. As you know, since the plague, outsiders may enter Brymlight, but once they do, they may never leave it. The people I've employed never made it back. And most who forced their way through the blockades had been executed. If there's anyone you should be angry at, it's the people of the three kingdoms! The so-called powers of the world. They left us to DIE."

The people in the crowd nodded, their expressions all worked up.

"Down with the three kingdoms!" someone shouted. Yells of support followed.

"WE are Brymlightians," Oswald said, riling up the citizens. "We will survive anything the world throws at us, for we are followers of Brymia Light. We are good people! We are the leading examples of abstinence!" A roar of agreement broke out. Oswald reached into his pocket and withdrew a little bottle of green liquid. He raised it high above his head. "After four hellish months, I give to you the cure --antidote --vaccine, whatever you want to call it," he announced proudly. "This is the product of OUR faith."

The crowd went wild with clapping and cheering. Nikolai turned to look at the people around him. Only a minority of them stood still, their arms still folded, the expressions of skepticism plastered all over their faces.

"We can be the Brymlight we've always been. No," Oswald added as an afterthought. "We will rebuild in honor of those who have gone before us. We will be a better Brymlight than we ever were!"

The shouting grew so loud that Lana pulled Nikolai from the people. From the look on her face, she was not impressed. But then, Nikolai wasn't either. He clutched his watch tightly but could not feel its ticking over the thundering chants of Oswald's name.

The man had won. Again.

However, politics wasn't the main concern. As Nikolai and Lana stood by themselves, watching Oswald leave the stage to shake the citizens' hands, only one thing haunted their minds. There was no mentioning of the ingredients for the tonic. It was also too much to assume the price would go down after what Oswald had said about it. So, how were the villagers getting the cure?