“Dear Elorath, I hope we're almost there,” Magnus grumbled, his patience wearing thin as the wagon slowly trundled along the winding path. The dense forest had finally given way, but the journey seemed never-ending.
“Shouldn’t be long now,” Cedric replied, his eyes fixed on the map in his hands. “About an hour, and we should see the city.”
“Let’s hope so because I am starving. Hey, Elysia! Do you still have that sandwich?” Magnus called over his shoulder, his stomach grumbling in agreement.
Elysia, seated comfortably in the back of the wagon, rummaged through her pack before pulling out a wrapped sandwich. “Yes, I still have it. Here,” she said, leaning forward to pass it to Magnus.
Magnus eagerly unwrapped the sandwich and took a big bite, only to realize it was stuffed with vegetables. He chewed slowly, his face falling in disappointment. “I miss meat…” he sighed dramatically. “Once we get there, I’m going to find me a big bowl of stew, a side of fresh bread, maybe some roasted meats… Oh, and a thick slice of cheese… A few sausages wouldn’t hurt either…”
As he listed his culinary desires, Faylinn poked her tiny head out from Cedric’s shirt, her bright eyes fixed on the sandwich. Her small, curious movements caught Magnus’s attention.
Magnus chuckled at the sight of the little fox’s interest. “Looks like someone else is hungry too.” He tore off a small piece of the sandwich and handed it to Cedric. “Here, give her a taste.”
Cedric took the piece and held it out to Faylinn, who eagerly nibbled on it, letting out a soft, contented mew as she enjoyed the treat.
Magnus grinned, clearly pleased. “Well, at least someone appreciates a good vegetable sandwich.”
Before Magnus could continue his musings on food, Cedric cut in, his tone growing serious. “The city could be under demon’s control,” he reminded them. “We need to be cautious when we arrive. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Magnus nodded, acknowledging Cedric’s words with a more somber expression. But after a brief pause, his thoughts drifted back to the subject of food. “Alright, but let’s say it’s not under demon’s control. What kind of food are you getting, Cedric? Wait, don’t tell me—I’ll guess.”
Cedric glanced over at Magnus, a small smile playing on his lips as Magnus put on a thoughtful expression, his hand resting on his chin.
“Let’s see, Mister Take-It-Serious. What kind of food do you… hmm,” Magnus muttered to himself, trying to deduce Cedric’s taste.
“It’s—” Cedric began, only to be cut off by Magnus, who suddenly snapped his fingers as if he had just solved a great mystery.
“I got it! Thick soup, slices of bread… maybe with a little bit of butter. Am I right?” Magnus grinned, clearly proud of his deduction.
Cedric let out a sigh, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Yes…”
“Aha! I knew it!” Magnus laughed heartily, clearly pleased with himself.
Elysia, who had been listening to the exchange with a smile, chimed in. “That sounds like you, Cedric. Simple and to the point.”
Magnus turned to Tristan, who had been quietly listening to the conversation with a slight smile. “And you, your highness? What’s on the menu for a crown prince after a long journey?”
Tristan thought for a moment, his expression becoming more thoughtful. “I’d say a fine cut of roast beef, perhaps accompanied by a side of truffle-infused potatoes, and a glass of the best red wine in the cellar.”
Magnus burst out laughing, nearly choking on the sandwich. “Of course, you’d go for something fancy! Can’t have the crown prince eating commoner food, now can we?”
Tristan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s not about being fancy, Magnus. It’s about quality.”
“Sure, sure,” Magnus replied with a playful roll of his eyes. “But you’ll be missing out when we’re all digging into hearty, simple meals while you’re still waiting for your ‘truffle-infused’ whatever.”
“Sounds like you’ll be the one waiting,” Tristan shot back with a grin. “By the time you finish listing all the meats you want, Cedric and I will have finished eating.”
Magnus chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Fair point. But don’t be surprised if you catch me sneaking a piece of that roast beef.”
“And you, Elysia?” Magnus asked, turning his attention to her. “What’s the first thing you’ll get?”
“Oh, I think a nice plate of pastries and some fruit would be perfect,” Elysia replied, her voice light and cheerful. “Something sweet would be very nice”
“And for Liora,” Magnus added, glancing back at the little girl, “I bet it’s something sugary, right?”
Liora, who had been quietly listening, nodded eagerly. “I want cakes and candies!” she said with excitement.
“Well, here’s hoping we can all enjoy our foods soon enough, if the city is indeed safe” Cedric said, his voice carrying a note of hope as they continued their journey toward the city.
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Finally, after a few more minutes, they reached the crest of a hill, and the port city came into view. The city sprawled out before the endless expanse of the sea, nestled between the sandy shores of its harbor and the lush hillsides that cradled it. The buildings, a mix of sturdy stone warehouses and modest wooden structures with slanted roofs covered in thatch or clay tiles, glinted in the sunlight.
The harbor, however, was quieter than expected. Only a few ships were docked at the piers, their sails furled and their decks mostly empty. It was clear that the usual influx of vessels had slowed to a trickle, likely due to the blocked waterway. Still, the city itself was bustling with life. People moved about with purpose, filling the streets and markets with the familiar sounds of commerce and conversation.
Palm trees and vibrant tropical flora lined the streets, swaying gently in the warm breeze, adding a touch of the exotic to the lively city. Narrow cobblestone streets wound their way through the city like a labyrinth, leading down towards the waterfront where traders haggled energetically over goods, their stalls brimming with everything from fresh produce to fine fabrics.
At the far end of the harbor, a grand fort stood watch over the city. Its stone walls were weathered but imposing, a reminder of the city’s strategic importance. Cannons peeked out from the battlements, ready to defend against any threat from the sea. Beyond the fort, the deep blue waters of the bay stretched out to meet the horizon.
“We’re here,” Cedric announced, letting the others know as the wagon rolled closer to the city.
As they approached the entrance, they noticed that the city was still alive with people going about their daily business. Guards at the gate took a brief look at their wagon, and after seeing nothing out of the ordinary, they waved them through, welcoming them into the city.
“Doesn’t look like there are any demons here,” Cedric remarked to Magnus as he surveyed the bustling streets.
Tristan, however, remained focused on their mission. “We should find the marquis and contact him. He didn’t respond to Killian, so something might have happened to him.”
Magnus, always one to prioritize his stomach, suggested otherwise. “How about we hit a tavern nearby first? I’m starving, and it’s been a long trip. We could all use a good meal,” he said, eyeing the market and imagining the local delicacies.
Tristan hesitated, his sense of duty pulling him one way, but the fatigue of the long journey and the promise of a decent meal tugging him another. After a moment, he nodded. “You’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to rest and gather our strength before continuing. Let’s find a place to eat.”
With the decision made, they guided the wagon toward a nearby tavern, blending in with the lively flow of the city as they prepared to take a much-needed break before facing whatever awaited them.
The tavern they chose was a lively establishment, nestled within the winding streets of the city. As they stepped inside, the warmth and aroma of food immediately enveloped them. The walls were made of dark, polished wood, adorned with old maps and seafaring memorabilia, giving the place a rustic yet inviting charm. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, golden light that danced off the tables and chairs, creating a cozy atmosphere.
The tavern was bustling with activity. The sound of laughter and clinking mugs filled the air, as patrons—locals and travelers alike—engaged in animated conversations. A bard in one corner strummed a lute, singing tales of distant lands and legendary heroes. The long wooden bar was lined with barrels of ale, where the tavern keeper and his staff expertly poured drinks and served plates of steaming food to eager customers.
Magnus wasted no time and ordered a feast fit for a king. Soon, their table was covered with an array of dishes—roasted meats, thick slices of bread with butter, hearty stews filled with chunks of tender meat and vegetables, and platters of fresh fruit. There were pies filled with savory fillings, and a large wheel of cheese that Magnus eyed eagerly. The food smelled divine, a mix of rich, earthy aromas that made their mouths water.
Cedric, Tristan, Elysia, and Liora joined Magnus at the table, the tension of their journey momentarily forgotten as they dug into the meal. Magnus, true to form, piled his plate high, savoring each bite with a satisfied grin. Cedric, though more reserved, found himself appreciating the simple pleasure of a good meal after the long days of travel. Tristan, always the prince, took his time, enjoying the finer details of the dishes, while Elysia, ever graceful, picked at her food with a quiet smile.
Around them, the tavern was a scene of lively camaraderie. At one table, a group of sailors exchanged tales of their adventures at sea, their hands animatedly recounting stories of storms and distant ports. At another, a merchant haggled playfully with a local over the price of a rare spice, their laughter ringing out as they finally struck a deal. The smell of roasting meat and baking bread mingled with the tang of ale, creating an atmosphere of hearty contentment.
Faylinn, perched on Cedric’s shoulder, sniffed curiously at the food, her small blue form almost glowing in the warm light of the tavern. She let out a soft mew, clearly intrigued by the spread before them. Cedric smiled and offered her a small piece of meat, which she accepted with a grateful nibble.
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As they stepped out of the tavern, the cool breeze of the city greeted them, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling interior they had just left. Cedric couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "That place was quite expensive. I know we had a big feast, but paying almost 50 golds? That's more of a noble’s price, not something you'd expect at a tavern."
Magnus, hearing his concern, clapped him on the shoulder with a reassuring grin. "You think too much, Cedric. Besides, we've got the wealthiest man in the empire with us," he said, nodding towards Tristan, who was busy guiding Liora onto the wagon. "What’s there to worry about?"
Cedric nodded in agreement, but the cost of the meal lingered in his thoughts, triggering an odd sense of familiarity. It wasn’t a memory, not exactly—more like a fleeting impression of another world, a place that never slept, where buildings reached toward the sky and life moved at a relentless pace.
The sensation was distant, as if he’d once been there, but the details remained just out of reach. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t grasp them, but the feeling stayed—a reminder of something lost to time.
Once everyone was settled back on the wagon, they continued their journey deeper into the city. The streets became more structured and grand as they approached the heart of the city. Finally, they arrived at the grand fort that loomed ahead, its stone walls tall and imposing, a symbol of strength and authority.
"This should be where the Marquis' office is. I remember Father mentioning it when I was young," Tristan remarked, his gaze fixed on the fort before them. There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice, recalling the stories of his father’s dealings with the Marquis.
As they approached, a group of guards halted their wagon. Tristan stepped forward, introducing himself while showing his royal ring. The guards quickly bowed their heads in respect, one of them stepping forward to address him.
"Welcome, Your Highness!" the guard said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and reverence.
Another guard stepped forward to escort them inside the fort, but before they could move, a familiar voice called out, "I'll take care of these guests."
The group turned toward the voice, revealing a man stepping out from the shadows, his presence immediately commanding attention. The man had brown hair, tousled and falling into his sharp, hazel eyes, which gleamed with a mix of arrogance and calculation. His rugged face bore the marks of countless battles, and the smirk on his lips carried an air of condescension that was all too familiar. He wore a dark leather vest over a plain shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms crisscrossed with scars, the kind earned in many skirmishes. His hand rested casually on the hilt of a dagger at his side, as if daring anyone to challenge him.
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Magnus’s eyes widened in shock and recognition. Without a second thought, he rushed forward, his powerful frame barreling toward the man who had spoken. "Garrick!" he shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and disbelief.
Magnus slammed Garrick against the wall with a force that made the stones tremble. "What the... Magnus?" Garrick gasped, the wind knocked out of him as he struggled to regain his composure.
Just as he began to gather his senses, the ring on Garrick's hand began to glow, and in a flash, a brilliant light emerged from it. The light quickly coalesced into a tangible form, manifesting as a glowing spear. The spear shot out, aiming directly at Magnus, who instinctively raised his magical shield. The impact of the spear against the shield sent Magnus staggering back, momentarily forcing him to let go of Garrick.
"What in hell is your problem, you goddamn Behemoth?" Garrick shouted, his voice a mix of anger and shock. He steadied himself, gripping the glowing spear tightly as the force of their clash sent rocks and debris scattering across the courtyard.
Cedric quickly pulled Liora close, shielding her from the flying debris. His eyes darted between Magnus and Garrick, assessing the rapidly escalating situation.
The light from Garrick’s ring intensified as the spear in his hand took on a more defined shape, its energy humming with power. He held it out, ready for another strike. Magnus, undeterred, tapped his pendant, and in response, his magical armor materialized around him with a gleaming, ethereal glow.
"Wait, Magnus—" Tristan called out, his voice filled with urgency, but it was too late. Magnus, driven by a deep-seated anger, charged at Garrick with a roar, their conflict on the verge of exploding into a full-blown battle.
Just as their weapons were about to clash, a commanding voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Stop! What is the meaning of this?"
Both Magnus and Garrick halted in their tracks, turning toward the source of the voice. A man stood there, his presence imposing and authoritative. He appeared to be in his forties, with a strong, weathered face that spoke of experience and wisdom. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his sharp, green eyes held a mixture of authority and calm.
Tristan spoke up first, his voice calm but firm. "I must apologize for Magnus' actions, Marquis Caelum," he said, gripping Magnus' arm to hold him back. "We've had a long journey, and we're all a bit on edge."
Caelum Kaelthron, the Marquis of the port city, quickly bowed his head in respect. "Your Highness," he acknowledged, his tone respectful. He discreetly signaled to Garrick to do the same, though Garrick hesitated before following suit, his eyes still wary.
"Please, allow me to escort you to my office," Caelum offered, extending a hand to guide them. His demeanor remained polite, though his eyes flickered with curiosity and concern as he led the group through the fort.
The interior of the fort was not what one would call opulent; instead, it was a place built for practicality and defense. The walls were lined with swords, shields, and various weapons, each polished and ready for use. The floors were sturdy stone, and the windows were small, offering a limited view of the outside world but providing excellent cover in case of an attack. The halls were sparsely decorated, with the occasional battle standard or military emblem breaking up the otherwise utilitarian design.
Caelum led them to his office, a room that was functional and severe, much like the rest of the fort. The room was dominated by a large, solid wooden desk, behind which hung a map of the surrounding region marked with strategic points. A pair of swords crossed above the map, and a shield with the city’s emblem rested on a stand beside it. A few leather-bound chairs and a small couch were placed around a low table, the only concession to comfort in the otherwise austere space. The stone walls were bare, save for a few more weapons and a single, heavy curtain that covered a narrow window.
"Please, Your Highness," Caelum gestured to the couch, inviting Tristan to sit. Elysia and Liora joined him, taking their places on the couch, while Cedric and Magnus stood behind them, still alert. Caelum took a seat opposite them, with Garrick standing silently behind him.
Caelum studied Tristan for a moment before asking, "What brings you to the port city, Your Highness?"
Tristan leaned forward slightly, his tone measured. "We were concerned when we received no response to the Duke's letter. I was sent to investigate the situation."
Caelum exchanged a puzzled glance with Garrick before responding. "I never received any message from the Duke, Your Highness," he said, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.
Tristan glanced at Garrick, considering whether to continue the discussion with him present. Sensing his hesitation, Caelum quickly added, "Sir Garrick is one of my most trusted men, Your Highness. He's been invaluable in managing the city's defenses."
Magnus let out a barely restrained sigh, clearly skeptical, but Tristan continued. "There's a situation developing in the capital. We were particularly concerned about the blockage of the waterway. Can you explain why it's been closed?"
Caelum nodded and gestured to Garrick. "Sir Garrick discovered that demons have been using the waterway to move freely. They’ve taken control of key points, so we blocked it off to prevent further incursions. Sir Garrick and his men are working tirelessly to resolve the issue."
Tristan offered, "If there's anything we can do to assist, we’re prepared to help."
But Garrick quickly declined. "We appreciate the offer, Your Highness, but we have the situation under control. My men and I can handle it; there's no need for additional assistance."
Tristan studied Garrick for a moment before nodding slowly. "Very well. However, I need to send a letter to the capital. I also plan to travel to the no man's land and will require reinforcements from Killian and any men you can spare."
Caelum hesitated. "The waterway is still blocked, Your Highness. It will take several days for a message to reach the capital. In the meantime, I can offer you and your team accommodations at one of our manors while you wait."
Tristan considered the offer and, after a moment, nodded. "Thank you, Marquis Caelum. We’ll accept your hospitality."
Caelum waved his hand, and Garrick quickly exited the room to summon a few soldiers to escort Tristan and his team to the manor. Shortly after, the team found themselves on a carriage, with soldiers riding alongside their wagon, leading them through the city streets toward their destination.
The journey was brief, and soon they arrived at a grand and beautiful manor nestled within a tranquil part of the city. The manor was a sight to behold, with its towering walls of smooth, white stone and intricately carved archways. The front garden was a vibrant sea of blooming flowers, meticulously arranged in patterns that led up to the grand entrance. Large oak trees stood on either side, their leaves casting dappled shadows across the path. The manor's windows were tall and narrow, framed by dark wooden shutters, and the roof was adorned with elegantly curved tiles, giving the entire structure an air of both opulence and welcoming warmth.
As the carriage pulled up, a group of well-dressed butlers and maids stood in formation at the entrance, ready to welcome them. The head butler, an older man with white hair neatly combed back, stepped forward. His appearance was immaculate—his uniform spotless, with a crisp, pressed collar and polished shoes. His demeanor was the epitome of professionalism, and his expression was one of practiced calm and attentiveness.
"Welcome, Your Highness, esteemed guests," the butler said, his voice smooth and polite. "We are honored to have you here. Please, allow us to assist you with anything you might need during your stay."
The team took this opportunity to rest after their long journey. Cedric, eager to wash off the dust of the road, went straight to the bathhouse. The manor's bathing facilities were a stark contrast to the last one they had stayed in. The bath was a large, marble-lined pool filled with steaming water that seemed to melt away his weariness. As he soaked, he allowed himself to relax, appreciating the serenity of the moment.
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After a few hours of rest, the sun began its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and gold. Cedric was in his room, enjoying the quiet, when a knock came at the door. He opened it to find Magnus standing there.
"Fancy a walk around the city?" Magnus asked with a grin.
Cedric nodded, realizing that getting a better sense of the city’s layout wasn’t a bad idea. He retrieved a long coat that had been provided by the maids—one that replaced his old cloak left behind at the manor during their previous misadventure—and threw it over his shoulders. The coat was a deep, rich color that contrasted nicely against the setting sun's light.
The two made their way downstairs, where the butler, noticing them, quickly stepped forward. "Would you like me to prepare a carriage for you, sirs?" he asked, ready to fulfill any request.
Cedric shook his head. "We’d prefer to explore the city on foot, get a better feel of the place."
The butler nodded respectfully. "As you wish, sir. I hope you both have an enjoyable evening."
With that, Cedric and Magnus left the manor, stepping out into the cool evening air as they began their walk through the streets of the port city.
Cedric and Magnus stepped out into the bustling streets of the city, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones as they began their exploration. The city was alive with activity, even as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Lanterns were being lit, casting a warm glow over the streets, while the sounds of vendors hawking their goods mingled with the laughter and chatter of townsfolk going about their evening routines.
They started their walk in the market district, where rows of shops lined the narrow streets. Each shop was a small, colorful building with a wooden sign hanging above its door, advertising everything from fresh produce to finely crafted goods. The scent of baked bread and roasted meats wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy smell of herbs and spices. Cedric and Magnus paused occasionally to inspect the wares—a beautifully carved wooden box here, a selection of intricate jewelry there. The shopkeepers were friendly, greeting them with smiles and inviting them to sample their goods.
However, as Cedric browsed through the goods, something began to nag at him. Everywhere they went, the prices of items seemed exorbitantly high. A simple loaf of bread was nearly double what he would expect to pay elsewhere, and even the smallest trinkets carried a hefty price tag. At one stall, Cedric picked up an apple and asked the vendor for the price. When the vendor named it, Cedric raised an eyebrow and quietly put the apple back, deciding it wasn’t worth the cost.
“Things are expensive here,” Cedric remarked as they moved on to the next stall.
Magnus nodded, biting into the remains of his sandwich. "Aye, I've noticed. This city’s charging like it’s the last place to buy anything."
They stopped by a shop where colorful fabrics were displayed. The merchant proudly presented his wares, but when he mentioned the price of a simple cloth, Cedric found it difficult to hide his surprise. Even basic necessities like clothing seemed to carry an exorbitant cost.
"It's like they’re expecting people to pay a king’s ransom for the simplest things," Cedric muttered, his gaze sweeping over the other items in the shop.
Magnus shrugged. "Could be they're trying to make up for something—like a shortage or… well, greed. Hard to say."
Cedric nodded, but he couldn’t shake the sense of unease that was creeping up on him. The inflated prices weren’t just a sign of scarcity or opportunism—they suggested something deeper. Perhaps the city was struggling more than it appeared on the surface. The bustling markets and lively streets might be a facade, hiding the strain of a city that was slowly being suffocated.
They continued through the quieter streets where the homes of the city’s residents were clustered. These were modest houses, built close together, with small gardens in front and washing lines strung between windows. Children played in the alleyways, their laughter ringing out as they chased each other around corners. The streets were narrower here, and the noise of the market faded into the background, replaced by the more subdued sounds of domestic life—the clatter of dishes, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional bark of a dog.
Eventually, Cedric and Magnus made their way toward the river, following a series of winding streets that led them to the city's edge. The riverbed was wide, with steep, stone-lined banks on either side, but it was dry, with only a few puddles of stagnant water remaining. The absence of water gave the river an eerie, desolate appearance, a stark contrast to the bustling life in the rest of the city.
Standing guard over the dry river was the massive gate that had been closed to block the waterway. The gate was an imposing structure of dark iron, reinforced with thick wooden beams. It rose high above them, casting a long shadow over the riverbed. The gate’s surface was marked with the wear and tear of time—rust spots and scratches from countless years of use. Cedric and Magnus could see that the gate was firmly shut, with heavy chains wrapped around its base, secured with a large, complex lock.
Cedric examined the gate closely, noting the intricate mechanisms that controlled its operation. It was clear that this gate had been designed to withstand a great deal of pressure, likely to keep out not just water, but also any threats that might use the river to enter the city.
Magnus frowned as he looked at the dry riverbed, his expression thoughtful. "So this is the waterway that's been blocked," he murmured. "Doesn't seem like a natural occurrence."
"No, it doesn't," Cedric agreed, his gaze lingering on the gate. "Garrick said demons had taken control of the waterway, but something about this doesn’t feel right."
Magnus nodded, his eyes scanning the area. "Feels like there's more to it. But whatever it is, it’s keeping the city cut off from the outside world."
They stood there for a moment longer, both lost in their thoughts as they took in the sight before them. The dry river, the massive gate, and the implications of what they were seeing weighed heavily on their minds.
Eventually, they turned away from the river, making their way back into the heart of the city. The night air was now filled with the scent of freshly cooked food and the sound of street musicians playing lively tunes. The city had a charm to it, but the ominous presence of the closed gate and the dry riverbed lingered in the back of their minds.
As Cedric and Magnus wandered through the city, they couldn’t help but notice that it was primarily inhabited by humans. There were very few members of other species, a stark contrast to the diverse population of the capital. Cedric mused; who would choose to live by the sea in human territory if not humans? Then he spotted something that immediately put him on alert.
“Magnus,” Cedric whispered, nudging him slightly.
Magnus turned, following Cedric’s gaze to a figure moving through the crowded streets. It was Garrick. Seeing him brought back a rush of memories and distrust. Magnus’s jaw tightened as he recognized the familiar face.
“That’s Garrick,” Cedric confirmed, his voice low but edged with tension.
Magnus’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust that snake. Let’s see what he’s up to.”
The two of them began trailing Garrick, keeping a safe distance as they followed him through the winding streets. Garrick moved with purpose, stopping briefly at various locations—each time making only a quick exchange or a short conversation before moving on. As night fell, something changed in the city. The usual sounds of laughter and chatter from the taverns and homes began to fade, replaced by an unsettling silence. The bustling streets that had been so lively during the day now seemed eerily empty, the only sound being the distant, hollow echo of their own footsteps.
Garrick’s path led them to the docks, where the air was thick with the briny scent of the sea and the sounds of the bustling market were replaced by the quieter ambiance of lapping waves and distant ship bells. Garrick slipped into a large, shadowy warehouse, its windows darkened, and its entrance barely illuminated by the faint glow of a nearby lantern.
Magnus and Cedric exchanged a wary glance. Whatever Garrick was doing inside, it didn’t bode well.
“Let’s see what he’s up to,” Magnus muttered, his tone filled with anticipation. They crept closer to the warehouse, their footsteps muffled by the worn cobblestones. They needed to find a way to peer inside without being seen.
The windows were too high, and the door was shut tight, but as they approached, they could hear muffled voices from within. It sounded like Garrick was discussing something about “the goods.” Just as they strained to hear more, the sound of approaching footsteps made them freeze. They quickly ducked behind a stack of crates, blending into the shadows.
A figure emerged from the darkness, moving with an unsettling grace. It was a man—or at least, it appeared to be. But there was something deeply wrong with him. His movements were unnaturally fluid, almost too perfect, like a dancer’s. His skin shimmered with iridescent scales that caught the dim light, giving him an otherworldly appearance. Around his neck hung a collection of masks, each more elaborate and expressive than the last. Despite the intricate masks, when the man’s true face was visible, it was surprisingly plain, almost disturbingly so, as if it was meant to be hidden behind the facade.
Magnus squinted at the figure, a chill running down his spine. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?” he whispered to Cedric.
Cedric nodded, his eyes never leaving the strange figure. “Yeah, I see him”
The man moved with eerie silence, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if he were on a mission of his own. Cedric and Magnus edged around the warehouse, trying to get a better look inside, but to their frustration, they had lost sight of Garrick.
Magnus decided to take the direct approach. He stepped out from behind the crates and called out to the figure, “Hey, are you okay?”
The man didn’t respond. Instead, he continued moving toward them, his steps light and deliberate, his eyes hidden beneath one of the ornate masks.
Magnus frowned, stepping forward cautiously. “If you need something, just say it.”
Still, there was no response. The man’s hand shot out suddenly, aiming for Magnus with a speed that was almost inhuman. Magnus barely managed to raise his shield in time, the impact reverberating through his arm. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back, but the man kept advancing, his movements as fluid and precise as before.
Magnus, now fully alert, kicked the man away, his voice rising in warning. “Back off! I’m not afraid to crush you if you don’t leave us alone.”
The man continued his silent approach, his eyes—still hidden behind the mask—locked onto Magnus. Realizing that this was no ordinary person, Magnus activated his pendant. The magical armor formed around him with a brilliant flash of light, the metal plates clinking into place as he prepared for a fight.
“Come at me, then, you fool!” Magnus shouted, his voice echoing in the night air. “There are two of us and one of you!”
But before they could engage, Cedric tapped Magnus on the shoulder, pulling his attention away from the approaching threat. Magnus turned to see what Cedric was looking at—and his heart sank.
Emerging from the shadows were more figures, each as strange and unsettling as the first.
One was a towering, elderly figure, its form made of aged oak, with tiny, luminescent beings clinging to its back and arms, emitting a soft, eerie glow. Its skin was etched with intricate lines, like maps of ancient journeys, and its eyes, filled with a deep, perpetual concern, moved slowly and deliberately as if weighed down by the burden of its existence.
Another figure moved with the same dancer-like agility as the first, its iridescent skin shimmering with every step. This one, too, was adorned with masks, but its expressions shifted constantly, each mask revealing a new emotion—joy, sorrow, anger, fear—while its true face remained hidden beneath the ever-changing facade.
A third creature appeared, this one resembling an avian-like being. Its once-majestic wings were now faded and frayed, the quills resembling broken pencils and the feathers like crumpled paper. Its body was a patchwork of texts and images—snippets of dreams and aspirations never realized. It walked with a limp, its gaze often drifting skyward, filled with longing and a deep, unspoken regret.
And yet another creature approached, encased in a bubble of swirling, stormy water that hovered just above the ground. Within the bubble, a sleek, serpentine form writhed, its scales gleaming like polished gemstones under the turbulent water. It chased its own tail, creating an endless loop of pursuit, its focus locked on an unattainable goal within its watery prison.
Magnus let out a sigh, his grip tightening on his axe. “I just had to open my big mouth...”
The two men found themselves surrounded, the strange beings closing in from all sides. There were more than twenty of them, each one more bizarre and unsettling than the last. The once bustling and familiar city now felt alien and dangerous, its dark corners hiding threats they hadn’t anticipated.
Magnus and Cedric exchanged a tense glance, both of them realizing the gravity of their situation. They were outnumbered, surrounded by creatures they didn’t understand, and far from any immediate help. The night air was thick with tension, and the quiet sounds of the city seemed distant, muffled by the impending danger.
They had to find a way out, and fast.