On the floor beside his bed, a fresh change of clothes piled on top of a brand-new pair of dark leather boots had been carefully placed for his use.

Kalos snatched them up and began the arduous process of donning his new outfit as fast as he could through several complex phases of fastening and folding. Most new items of clothing were difficult to figure out and break-in for they were usually quite stiff and had not yet conformed properly to the wearer's body. The particularly sturdy, brand-new set he was now holding was no exception.

Kalos examined the layers to determine the proper order in which they should be arranged. The first layer to be put on was a thin, scratchy, dark-gray wool about a quarter-inch thick, intended to keep the elements out and his body heat in. It fit like a glove over his thin undergarments. He awkwardly began tugging unsightly slivers of cloth that protruded from every possible gap in an effort to eliminate the wrinkles and smooth the layers together for long-term comfort.

After straightening out the wool and tucking his shirt in, he quickly grabbed the next layer resting atop the new riding boots by his bed. The leather consisted of several large pieces fashioned with a dark, reddish-brown color that’d been stitched together with elastic strips of light-brown sinew. The thick outer layer felt like a lightweight configuration of animal hide armor that crisscrossed along the seams to double as a type of shell for protective purposes. He had never owned such an expensive ensemble before, and almost got distracted by the quality of the craftsmanship and the protection the design would provide for him before he even finished getting dressed.

After completing the process, all that remained was a pair of thin wool socks and the leather riding boots which matched the slightly darker shades placed throughout the rest of the outfit. He was thankful that another blast hadn’t occurred nearby for several minutes, though explosions had been ringing out in the distance all across the city.

A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. After wiping his face dry with a small strip of cloth dangling from his wrist, a dull glint caught his eye. Something sat on the floor between the bed and his nightstand. He cautiously reached down and pulled the unknown item from the shadows for a closer look. After tilting it to one side and then the other, realization struck. He could hardly believe his eyes as he carefully examined the exquisite, but subtle handiwork he was holding.

“Is this ..?” his words cut off as he heard several heavy footsteps rumbling through the hallway outside his door. Before he could hide, it flew open to reveal a large, gnarled-looking man who looked like he’d been wearing the same clothes for years without a single wash. His blood-shot eyes widened into a sinister smile as soon as he saw Kalos inside.

“Well arent’you a spritely lookin' boy?” He cackled triumphantly while blocking the only exit.

Kalos' heart started pounding into his neck. Even the spies he and Nava ran into at the Mercari fair hadn’t made him feel quite so vulnerable when they appeared behind them. His fingers trembled as he gripped onto the hilt of his brand-new dagger and tried to wait for the right moment to pull it out. Instantly, as if a powerful combat spell had been cast over him, all hesitation vanished and was replaced by an unnaturally deep sense of indignation and deadly intent.

Despite a sudden rush of adrenaline and the new-found ferocity in Kalos’ eyes, the man stepped forward through the door, revealing a long, steel blade in one hand that was stained with so much blood that it was nearly as dark-red in hue as Kalos’ new, leather riding boots. The gruesome-looking weapon made a huge impact on his psyche, but it felt more like a distant emotion floating just outside the steely confines of his combat-ready mind than an immediate concern.

For what seemed like an eternity wrapped into only a few seconds’ time, the two stared into each other’s eyes with equal intensity. The pirate’s bloodthirsty gaze bore into the young warrior’s soul as Kalos waited for the right moment to engage, just as Grimm had taught him.

Kalos watched his foe with the calculating gaze of a wild beast challenging an unwelcome invader in his territory. The only idea floating around in his mind was trying to decide the best way to deliver a decisive blow that would end the confrontation with minimal effort. He began to shake from within when he realized how strong his desire to kill the brute standing in front of him had become. Hatred had been intensifying in his heart with every passing second before his psyche finally began cracking under the pressure of his own conviction. He never hated anyone. Just the mere presence of such emotions tickling his mind was enough to make him question his own intentions. Kalos’ confidence began to waver. It was like some unseen force within the blade itself had been working to solidify the boy’s intent to kill, but was suddenly confused about what to do next now that its wielder’s heart had shifted toward uncertainty about actually following through with such a heinous act against another person.

That slight shift of intent was all it took to break the invader’s restraint. He roared at Kalos and lunged forward, delivering a full-power thrust with his blade as soon as he came within range to attack. Kalos nearly gasped at how quickly the distance between them had shrank. His soul and the effects of the Sultrani Ostele collided violently, causing him to miss a step and stumble sideways. Kalos' awkward movement threw the attacker off-balance since he had been expecting the boy to move forward with a counter-attack rather than evading him altogether. Furthermore, the last thing he expected was for his target nearly to fall flat on his face right in front of him.

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The attacker still tried to run the boy through with his blade, which not only proved unfruitful, but entirely impossible as a result of his clumsy stature. Kalos nearly gasped as the man drove his weapon deep into the side of the bed right beside him. He immediately tried to kick Kalos in frustration, but despite his best efforts, stumbled to one side and toppled over the mattress from his own momentum.

“Ya dumb stool cob," the intruder growled, "what kin’a man falls on'a floor lik’a twat in a fight?” He stared angrily at Kalos before leaping on top of the mattress and kicking the frame so hard that the the wood snapped from the impact of his boot before ferociously jerking and tugging the hilt of his sword in order to pull it loose. Kalos instantly took advantage of the situation and scrambled straight for the door. Just before making it through, he glanced over his shoulder in time to see the assailant free his weapon and start sprinting after him from only a few paces away.

“Ge back’ere cob!”

The boy nearly clipped the edge of the wall in a frenzy, but managed to shove the door out of the way while narrowly missing it with his head. Unexpectedly, the large, heavy barrier swung open and ricocheted back in a half-second’s time before connecting heavily with the pirate’s shoulder as he leapt forward to try and grab Kalos with one hand. The wall creaked and shuddered from the force of the man's weight as he slammed into the doorframe and gasped, breaking multiple ribs all at once upon impact.

Kalos took several slow breaths as the intruder lay unconscious on the floor in front of him. Finally, after taking one last look around the room to make sure nothing would be forgotten, he turned to see another figure standing right in front of him in the middle of the hallway leading downstairs and froze. The next surge of adrenaline that shot through him quickly subsided when he recognized who it was.

“Kalos! Are you alright?” Grimm questioned with a hint of panic in his voice. He quickly planted both hands on the boy’s shoulders and spun him around, examining every inch of him as best he could.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” he wasn't known for stuttering often, but considering how dizzy he was just from Grimm’s examination and everything that just happened, he felt lucky to be talking at all. He stepped aside and let Grimm pass by to get a better look at the man on the floor.

Grimm shook his head and turned to face him, “I’m glad you’re okay...” The simplicity of his comment sounded a little too ominous for Kalos' liking.

“We have to go quickly. The city’s under attack and we only have a few hours left before dawn. I'm sorry to say this, but it’s going to be a long, miserable night until we get there.”

“What’s happening? Is this part of the war?” Kalos asked as he and Grimm descended the stairs, only able to exchange words between every other step with how fast they were running.

“No. Just pirates. It’s very unusual for them to attack such a highly populated city, though. The fact that they’re still here in full force after obliterating the entire royal fleet stationed offshore shows just how powerful they’ve become. This is very troubling news for Ceirlan.”

Kalos realized he was still holding the dagger in his hand without ever having actually unsheathed it. He quickly wrapped the belt it was attached to over his stomach and buckled it in-place before shoving it down around his hips. Afterwards, he tucked it beneath the lower edge of his jerkin and twisted the sheath around to the small of his back where it could stay well-hidden for as long as he wanted it to. The sheath itself had been designed to hold the blade laterally across his back rather than up-and-down. A long, hook-shaped tip on the end pointed toward the ground, revealing the unique slope of the blade, itself.

Grimm’s pace slowed a bit, allowing him to observe Kalos as he completed putting the weapon in-place. He gave a sharp nod of approval when he was done.

“Doogin was up all night making it. With his unique skills, most weapons only take an hour or two to forge after the metal has been properly prepared. This one took several for him to complete. Truly a masterpiece worthy of taking its place as one of his finest works.”

The two grew a little more relaxed as they exited the building and moved into the dark, vacant street outside. Despite the fact that no one could be seen anywhere around them, random clashes of steel and blasts from single-shot firearms echoed at random every other corner. Tight streets, like the ones stretching throughout the city, were capable of carrying sounds all the way across town without giving any indication as to where they had actually originated from. They were a little safer now that they could travel through the shadows, but not much considering how pervasive the invasion had become across Blefcynn.

“Where are we going, exactly?”

“Some old friends are waiting for us at another inn to the east. We were going to head that way tomorrow, but since the city’s under attack now, we’ll need to take the Narrows in order to get there before dawn.”

The “Narrows” was a term Kalos only vaguely understood. Villages such as Ark and small towns in general didn’t have any, but cities as big as or even bigger than Port Blefcynn could have leagues of them. In nautical terms, the “narrows” referred to water passageways that were off limits due to war threats, shallow shoals, or some other condition that made them unfit for use. The Blefcynn Narrows were off limits simply because people preferred to stay alive rather than not. Shady individuals who resided in or near the "Narrows" were notorious for attacking people and creating victims on a regular basis.

Grimm was aloof and distant when he spoke his next few words, but Kalos knew better than to take his comments lightly, “We must be extremely cautious. Enemies surround us on every side. Port Blefcynn is no longer safe, and after tonight, it may never be safe again...”

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