The next morning, they had finally scaled the highest peak of Rasmont Range along the East Basin route when a blast of salty sea air rose up to greet them from far below. The sun was casting a flood of brilliant light over the never-ending curve of ocean that appeared in front of them and stretched beyond the horizon. The water sparkled like diamonds as far as the eye could see.

From atop the mountain, Port Blefcynn didn’t seem much bigger than their village; An optical illusion that would fade as soon as they came close enough to witness the true scale of such a large city. Port Blefcynn supported many legions of citizens, sailors, and merchants cycling in and out of the city on a daily basis. Traders came from all over the world to conduct business at the port, year-round.

Kalos glanced off toward the right, noticing how the mountains gradually moved away from the coast the farther Northeast they stretched. Eventually the land opened into an entirely different kind of forest than what he was accustomed to around Ark. The foliage was a much lighter green, and only seemed to offer sparse coverage over sandy, white soil that extended over a great distance.

“Folmsae,” Grimm spoke softly, interrupting his thoughts, “The Sea of Palms.” He nudged his horse a little closer to Kalos before continuing, “They say there are countless treasures hidden there, and terrible curses to keep them safe. Been a major pirate destination since ancient times until the last couple of decades. Explorers and looters have been growing more desperate since the Black King sat on the throne, but it's still a terrible place to be caught alone and unaware.

“The entire forest was once contested territory between pirates, barbarian tribes, and, at one time, even a legendary group of Sultrani warriors who were believed to have gotten wedged between the mountains and the gulf after seeking a new route to the north from Sultra long before the Wise King’s rule.”

Grimm pointed to an area between Folmsae and the mountains at the base of Rasmont Range. “See that lake? That’s Tearshed." It looked no bigger than a small waterhole for livestock.

Grimm continued, “The lake there is said to have been birthed from the tears of a long-forgotten Sultrani General who, after realizing his entire army had died in a foreign land, fell to his knees near a clear mountain stream and began weeping rivers of sadness for their loss.

“The General was stricken with grief over how much time he had committed to selfish pursuits, which he would never be able to reclaim and account for. The more he thought about his life, and how many of his men had sacrificed everything under his command, the more he cried, night and day for weeks.

“According to the legend, the stream eventually became a lake where all of the General’s tears had pooled together. As many storytellers have tried to reason, the gods called the tears together in order to remind others about the General’s plight, and to discourage them from making the same foolish choices that he did with his time.”

As Kalos sat thinking about the story, a dull boom echoed from the direction of Port Blefcynn. He quickly glanced toward the city again, trying to identify what'd happened. Soon another wrang out from the ocean just beyond the city. When Kalos looked farther out to sea, his eyes grew wide with shock. He’d completely failed to see the whole picture before that very moment.

A vast canvas of black dots scattered across a vast area of the surface of the water suddenly burst forth from the emerald-blue backdrop of the sea, previously masked by the light of the sun until his eyes had finally become acclimated to the brightness.

Hundreds of ships stretched all the way to the horizon in multiple directions like trails of ants leading to and from various destinations along popular trade routes. The explosions he’d heard were actually cannons being fired from a group of warships gathered together in a gap of open water.

“What’re they doing?” He saw sails everywhere, but couldn’t make out any details that might help. Another faint explosion held his attention as he waited for a response.

As his gaze drifted from one section to the next, he realized how much bigger some ships were than the rest. They were so massive that dozens of smaller ones trying to stay out of their path, no doubt driven by fearful crews struggling to avoid being crushed down to the depths below. Even the largest buildings in Port Blefcynn looked a bit small in comparison.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“They’re clearing their armaments of old powder. After a while it gets damp and fails to fire. They must be expecting a fight soon. That group in particular appears to be a fleet associated with the King's Order. Blefcynn’s always under threat of invasion due to how much trade flows through it.”

Another blast sent a long plume of smoke rising from the sea at least thirty times its own length.

Grimm shook his head, gently coaxing his horse onward. The old, brown steed responded immediately and with little complaint as it began its slow descent from the peak.

“Hopefully they won’t keep everyone up all night with their noise...” An irritated expression crossed his face as if he were already expecting a rough night for the both of them.

#

It only took a few hours for them to reach the bottom of the mountain. As they drew near the city, Kalos noticed a drastic change in the terrain. All around them, the land was afflicted with excessive farming and agriculture. Everything looked strange and unnatural to his eyes. He couldn’t remember seeing so much desolation during his last visit. No natural grass or plants could be seen anywhere. All that was visible were long, chunky veins of trenches that’d been torn into the soil as far as the eye could see, which only seemed to stop at the edge of the road so as not to completely erase their path from the world in exchange for a few more crops.

“This is where they grow all of the food.” Grimm said flatly while his horse continued its slow gait toward the port.

Kalos shook his head, “Is this... normal?”

“Unfortunately for Blefcynn, it is. In even bigger cities like Amenset, fields continue for leagues and are heavily guarded. Entire armies are often employed to keep such vast croplands safe from common folk.”

Kalos noticed movement ahead. Upon closer examination he saw a little girl sitting on one of those clumpy field mounds with her feet in the trench right next to the road. As they came close, she looked up at them curiously before her eyes grew as big as saucers. It was like she had never seen anyone traveling through the area before on horseback.

“Are you a dragon knight!?” The girl leapt to her feet and ran close enough to seize Grimm’s attention, but not enough to be trampled by the horse's hooves. She was fearless in her approach though Grimm’s steed skittered sideways away from her, startled by her boldness. Her long, curly hair bounced like a lion’s mane around her neck with every step she took.

It took Kalos a moment to realize what she was asking. He hadn’t heard much about the famed dragon knights of old since he was very young. Such stories were considered forbidden, and dragon knights were nothing like how they once were under the Good King’s rule.

Grimm’s reaction surprised Kalos even more, though, “A dragon knight? Me?” The light-hearted tone sounded strange coming from such a travel-worn face as his.

“My fair maiden, surely you jest. You seem to be the one who has the likeness of a true dragon knight to me.” The horses tried to scamper away as she began to walk alongside them. Her expression changed from intensely curious to completely smitten by Grimm’s suggestion, “I couldn’t be a knight, silly. I’m just a little girl!”

Suddenly her face grew strong and heroic as she elaborated, “I’m going to be a pirate when I get older, and take back everything I can from the Black King’s sticky fingers!”

“Sticky fingers you say? What makes them so?” Grimm’s intent for asking such a question went right over the girl’s head, but she still told him what he wanted to know.

“Yes! Sticky fingers because he walks around stealing good, hard working peoples’ sugar all the time.” Her tiny appendages wiggled in the air like a spider's legs as she pretended to steal something from an imaginary table by the road.

Grimm chuckled, “You don’t say? What a terrible man.” She nodded vehemently.

The girl skipped forward several steps, fully intending to travel with them for a while when suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face a rickety wooden building in the distance to their right. In the doorway stood a small, thin woman with one finger pointed at the ground right in front of her. Apparently she had called the girl home, but all three failed to hear her the first time. Judging by the scowl on the woman’s face, it looked like she must've called out several times before finally catching the little girl’s attention.

“Bye!” She shouted and waved before bolting toward the woman as fast as her little bare feet would carry her. Once or twice it looked like she might make fall after a misstep or two, but it only actually happened once. The child quickly recovered and continued only a little slower than before toward her home.

“The Black King isn’t popular here, even after sending his strongest forces more than ten years ago to help protect the city from a great attack. Unfortunately the least privileged members of society tend to suffer the most under an oppressive ruler. That little girl doesn’t have much, but at least her spirit is strong.”

Kalos glanced over his shoulder at the house one more time. The little girl they had spoken to was now standing on the front porch, just watching them travel on their way. She waved as soon as she saw him looking back.

He felt awkward about it, but waved back anyway for her benefit. He couldn't help but admire how sweet her personality seemed to be despite all that must've happened to her family over the years.

Grimm shared one last thought, "I only hope we can be half that strong when hard times come again for the rest of us..."

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