Futur-logue
Bianca Malicieux stood on the dock, a shawl draped over her shoulders to keep her warm, though it was nothing compared to the fire burning in her core. She had the poise and grace appropriate for a noblewoman in her position, the lack of expression expected for a woman of the Caselfella Republic, and yet at a glance, she could tell that the others on the dock were wary of her.
Whether that was because of her countenance, her appearance, or the crest on her back, she didn’t know, nor did she entirely care.
A thick fog hovered over the ocean, roiling impatience. Not entirely uncommon here, in the northern reaches of the Republic. Still, it was an ill omen according to the more superstitious sailors milling around the port.
She reached into a pocket and removed a silver timepiece. The hour was approaching already. Soon, very soon, the envoy would be late.
She would have considered leaving at the very tick of noon, but that wasn’t permissible, not when she considered who the envoy was.
Someone called out, an alarmed scream, and Bianca looked ahead and peered into the fog.
A form was moving closer, darkness moving in the white fog. Its speed was likely what caused the call of alarm. Nothing so obviously large should be moving at such a pace while so close to the docks.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Waves grew and lapped at the shore, the vanguard of the approaching vessel.
Then Bianca chanced to look down, and she noticed large tendrils moving beneath the waves.
Her heart beat faster.
A ship tore out of the fog, like a greatsword slicing through so much silk. The vessel, made of darkened wood and bearing a figure head of a three-headed dragon, dwarfed the small shipping and fishing vessels of the port.
It turned ever so slightly, realigning itself with the docks, then, with a smoothness that did nothing to stop the sailors and tenders of the port from screaming and running in panic, it came to a gentle stop.
Ships rocked in their moorings until everything settled down once more.
A gangplank was lowered from the great ship, clattering onto the wood.
Bianca straightened. Here she was, the Daughter of the Dark Goddess. Here to solve a problem that none other could.
She tampened down the fear in her core, and prayed to the Dark One herself that all would go well.
***
The End