Cantra spotted the ship immediately. A large three-master, obviously built in Avora but without any official colors or symbols. No allegiance to the kingdom, a noble family or a merchant house. Pirates perhaps? No, too well-equiped. She watched as the crew crawled around the deck like nervous ants. According to Peacock, they had been here for a week, if not longer. The thief crouched on one of the many ramshackle bridges connecting two large storage towers while she studied the ships entering and exiting Tower City. She had disguised herself in commoner’s clothes and a leathery cape. The thought of sneaking around on the ship made her feel giddy. It wouldn’t be the first time – she was sixteen but she had stolen from at least double the amount of ships – but still, this was the biggest ship she had ever seen. She counted the guards, figures in black armor carrying curved blades. Oooh. Dangerous. I like it! Cantra would not attempt anything yet. Scouting was an important part of thievery. She would come back at nighttime to see whether there were fewer guards then. As she turned around, she saw Garlock standing there, a foolish grin on his face as usual. The guard wore the blue color of the Merchant Guard. His mob of ginger hair went everywhere thanks to the breeze of the sea. ‘Lady Halvani, your uncle has requested your presence at the palace. Could you please come with me?’ She sighed. ‘How did you find me this time?’ He shrugged. ‘Talked to some of your “friends”. Come now, your uncle is eager to talk to you.’

The palace, as Garlock had called it, was not like a palace in the strictest of senses. Cantra’s home consisted of various towers circling a bigger one. The whole area was fenced of from the rest of the city with sturdy stone walls. To her, it always looked like a diamond perched right in the middle of a heap of shit. When Rumarr Halvani had fled the Thousand Isles during the Age of War, Tower City had been but a shantytown, a place for pirates, refugees and vagrants to uphold a faint illusion of civilization. It was the only settlement within the eastern region of the Wildlands. Her uncle, as he liked to remind her, had come to the place with a plan. Romarr knew a couple of things about war. He had witnessed it firsthand and now used his knowledge to his advantage. Everyone needed to eat, even during wartime and the Wildlands offered a broad collection of fruits and spices. He convinced the pirates to collaborate and start a smuggling network. As many others fled from the war, they came to Tower City, bringing with them their knowledge and trade. As the population grew, so did the smuggling operation. Her uncle wisely invested the money in new businesses and after the Age of War was over, the place had turned from a pirate hideout into a real city with actual buildings. Pirates had become merchants, deserters and refugees were now owners of inns and stores. Rumarr Halvani, once a scared young orphan, became the regulator and banker of the new trading hub. Cantra had heard the tale many times over and as she followed Garlock into the bowels of the palace, she feared another lecture.

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‘And that, Cantra Halvani, is why I am so ashamed of your current attitude. Those ships out there? They are the only reason we can live in a place like this. And yet you steal from them as if you are some lowlife scum.’ Uncle Rumarr kept walking around his office while he scolded her. He scratched at the scar on his forehead and ran his hand through his grey hair. ‘What should I do with you? Why aren’t you willing to come and work for me? You could learn a lot in the secretariat.’ Cantra rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t want to be scribble numbers unto paper. Why don’t you leave me alone? I’m good, you know, at what I do.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re gonna get yourself in trouble one of these days, believe me. I won’t always be here to bail you out. What if I die? You know I worked all my life for this. Are you truly willing to give this all up?’ She just shrugged. ‘You’re not my parents.’ She saw a sudden sadness in her uncle’s eyes and immediately regretted it. ‘Uncle, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..’ He stood up. ‘You get two days to find honest work. I won’t help you, since you don’t need my help. If I find out you’re still stealing from ships, I’ll have you placed under house arrest. Here ends this conversation.’ He sat down and began tending to his paperwork. Cantra left his office. She went outside. Fuck looking for work, let’s look for some trouble.