The trip had been long, but pleasant, much smoother than I expected. It didn’t feel nearly as long as it actually was. The crew was already getting ready for a quick disembarkation, their movements efficient and practiced. The weather had been kind to us, with only one or two nights of light rain and slightly stronger waves. Even then, it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. We were lucky.

I spent the time practicing my new powers and trying to learn how to use a sword. The sword definitely wasn’t for me. Even though I gave it my all, I knew I didn’t have what it takes. I could see it in Lance’s eyes as he taught me, though he didn’t actually say it.

I could already see land on the horizon, growing closer with each passing minute. The excitement that had settled in my chest since we set sail flared up again as I watched it approach. We were almost there.

I made my way across the deck, spotting Lance near the bow. He was working out, going through the same strange, intricate movements I had seen before—almost like a dance. His body moved with fluid grace, each motion calculated and precise, though sweat poured down his forehead from the effort. I coughed lightly to get his attention, ready to ask him more about our destination for maybe the tenth time in the last few days.

Lance paused mid-movement and looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "What is it this time?" he asked, his tone quite serious.

I opened my mouth, ready to defend myself, but Lance raised his hand, cutting me off. "No need," he said, letting the air leave his lungs with a heavy sigh. "I get it. Everything’s new for you." He wiped the sweat from his brow, then continued. "I’ve made a bit of a plan, but you know, I’ve never left the capital before. Ever."

His words surprised me, though when I thought about it, it made sense, considering everything Lance had told me about his life. Still, I said nothing, not wanting to bother him anymore.

Lance glanced toward the horizon, his eyes narrowing as if he were considering something. "There’s the small city where we’ll disembark," he explained. "There are a few places the kingdom has already claimed as their own, but they’re not real cities yet—not fully." He paused, glancing at me with a more serious expression. "We’re heading for one of the deeper posts. So that we don’t get caught."

He suddenly stopped, his face going pale for a moment. His eyes darted toward my forehead, and then, without a word, he ran below deck, leaving me standing there, confused. I waited, hearing the distant sounds of him rummaging through things in the cabin.

A minute later, Lance came back, holding an old gray shirt in one hand and a knife in the other. Without hesitation, he started cutting through the fabric, slicing a large chunk out of it. It was hard to watch, honestly. I’d never had many clothes in my life, and that shirt didn’t even look that worn.

Once he finished, he looked at me and nodded. "Stay still." He tied the strip of fabric around my forehead like a makeshift bandana. "We need to keep that mark covered."

I raised my arms, confused. "But what about my wrists? Or this?" I held up my hand, showing him the mark that circled my finger.

Lance stopped, looked at my arms, then at the mark on his own finger, and cursed under his breath. He sat down on the deck, cutting a few more strips from the shirt and handing them to me. "Use these to cover your wrist and finger," he said, tying another strip around his own. "We’ll have to get long gloves or gauntlets or something when we arrive. Something better than this."

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I couldn’t help but laugh, watching him try to figure it all out on the fly. For someone who always seemed so dependable, it was funny how little he’d thought some of this through.

The docks loomed closer with every passing second, the faint outlines of the port town just visible through the morning mist. The smell of saltwater clung to the air, and I could hear the creak of wood as the crew finished their tasks. Lance and I stood near the railing, ready to disembark, when the captain approached us, his face as unreadable as ever.

"There’s no way we’re stopping at the port," he said, his voice gruff. "You two should be ready to jump in a few minutes."

I stiffened at the idea of jumping into the water. It felt wrong, risky, and downright terrifying. But Lance just nodded, determination flashing in his eyes like he had expected it all along. I, on the other hand, could barely hide my nerves.

"What about our things?" I asked, glancing at the packs and bags we had prepared. "They’ll weigh us down, won’t they?"

Lance sighed, running a hand through his face, clearly exasperated with my constant worrying. "We’re not going to have to swim far, Argus," he said. "And stop worrying about the weight. You’re a Vamyr now. Start thinking like one, you’re not a regular person anymore."

I wanted to argue, but the steady, confident look in Lance’s eyes made me swallow my words. He was right. I wasn’t the same anymore. I needed to start believing that.

A few minutes later, we were at the edge of the ship, our things secured tightly to our bodies. The docks and the beach were just ahead, the cold water beneath us waiting for our plunge. Lance turned back toward the captain and gave him a firm nod. "Thank you, Uncle," he said.

The captain grunted in response. "Just get it over with."

Lance and I turned to face the water once more. Without giving myself time to overthink it, I jumped. The cold hit me immediately, the weight of my belongings dragging me down, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The effort required wasn’t overwhelming, and I found myself breaking through the surface a moment later, gasping for air.

Lance was already ahead of me, swimming toward the beach. "Come on!" he shouted, his voice carried by the wind and waves.

I followed, kicking through the water and closing the gap between us. Despite the cold and the weight, it didn’t take us long to reach the shore. I stumbled onto the beach, panting slightly as the water dripped from my clothes. Lance ran a hand through his soaked black hair, grinning widely. "Welcome to the Outskirts."

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension finally leaving me. Together, we wrung the excess water from our clothes and tried to shake off the cold. The town wasn’t far, and we started making our way towards it.

The roads were little more than dirt, uneven and well-worn. The buildings looked like they were in a constant state of disrepair—new wood patched over old wood, and even older wood holding everything together. As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice how tough everyone looked. Fit, scarred, most of them wearing armor. These weren’t the kind of people I had grown up around.

What struck me even more was how many of them were Vamyr. Though many tried to hide it with layers of clothing, the marks were still visible to someone who knew what to look for. Lance noticed where my gaze had wandered and leaned in close.

"Yeah, I see it too," he whispered. "It’s illegal to have a blessing without proper authorization, but it seems like that rule doesn’t apply so strictly around here."

I nodded, feeling a bit uneasy as the eyes of the townsfolk followed us. Lance kept his expression neutral, but I could tell he was as aware of the stares as I was. We moved quickly, avoiding unnecessary attention, searching for a bit until we finally found what we were looking for.

The building wasn’t much larger than the others, but the sign out front read, Bear’s Head Inn. I glanced at Lance, raising an eyebrow.

"Are we staying here?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Only for one night," Lance replied. "Long enough to get what we need and sell off some of what we’ve got."

With that, we both stepped forward, pushing open the wooden doors and entering the dimly lit inn.