A crimson moon bathed the barren streets of Pallor’s Port in an eerie glow. Enyah's arrival in the town was greeted only by the pouring rain. She furrowed her brows and scanned the empty streets, yet saw no signs of life.

Rain was sacred in Pallor’s Port. The sailors and cityfolk would be drawn from their tasks and rush onto the streets, letting the rain wash away their worries as if Trallix, the god of oceans, travels, and storms, was protecting them. They’d sing and dance for days, even under the Wild Moon’s maroon glow.

The Wild Moon was a portent of danger in Lakreia, but faith always overcame fear for the Gulls. Yet tonight, silence filled the air, as if fear succeeded for the first time. The only sound, besides the downpour, was leather boots striking wet wood.

“The Gulls always had sharp noses,” Enyah thought, uneasy by the emptiness filling the streets. Instead of celebrating, they huddled up in their homes like sardines. A few windows gleamed with candlelight, a comforting sight in the unending darkness. “Something’s coming. Gurlin must know what’s happening.”

She quickened the pace, her eyes darting through the alleys and shadowed corners. Rain hammered her cloak, but she brushed it aside, her gaze sharp.

A deep-seated impulse halted her steps. Enyah's hand moved instinctively to a holster beneath her sodden cloak. She squinted through the rain, straining to hear. Her vision swept between the alleys until a faint sound broke the silence.

She whipped her head around, gun trained on the alley’s shadows. Two beady red orbs glinted before a pair of rats scampered past her boots, their feet pitter-pattering into a different alley. Enyah exhaled, holstering her flintlock and relaxing her grip.

The silence clawed at her mind. She sped up, thinking “Just get to the tavern, it’ll all be fine.”

Many moments later Enyah paused at a large building, its frame groaning through the storm. The wood worn and the paint peeling, but brightly lit and bursting with chatter. Enyah smiled faintly. “Not everything's different today.”

She embraced the lively atmosphere for a moment before stepping inside. The creaking door announced her arrival as the smell of ale and a roaring cacophony of voices assaulted her senses. She shook off the rain from her cloak, scanning the familiar room. Tables littered the main floor, occasionally taken by drunkards and brawlers. A group was crowded in a corner, playing cards and betting. A few of the patrons looked towards her in their stupor before returning to their conversations.

“Oi Enyah! Ye tryna grab a swig?” A middle aged man called out, his voice slurred. Enyah turned to see his face flushed and body swaying as he waved at her with an empty mug. she snorted, thinking, “The only thing bigger than their egos is their ignorance. Are they even aware the Gulls are hiding?”

“Not tonight Franne, Something’s off with the Gulls. Just want to head home.” she responded casually, sidestepping a table. A few patrons let out groans.

“Who cares about them, girl! You’re one of us. Live a little!” Franne laughed, “Last time they did this for months. More ale for us, I say!” A chorus of cheers replied to him.

“They don’t feel anything?” Enyah thought, worry seeping through her thoughts. The pounding of the rain against the building’s frame was constant, its steady beat pricking at her skin.

“Ain’t jumpin in the rain, huh.” A scarred man sighed, He leaned against his chair, a bandaged arm resting on his table, “Cowardly, superstitious folk. Do not let them get between you and your drink, girl.” He looked at a desk in the corner, “No offense Gurlin.”

“Offense taken!” The man behind the desk called back, his muscles hidden behind his shirt as he focused on whittling a block of wood.

“You’d best heed them.” Enyah spoke, hushed voice, while pausing her steps and staring at the scarred man,“They may be wrong, but Trallix? Nothing good comes from a wary god. I’d rather take a thousand men over whatever scares Him.”

The scarred man snorted, “I thought you feared nothing girl, letting these fools tales get to you. Never take you for a coward.” His tone light hearted but dulled with alcohol.

In the blink of an eye Enyah was upon the man, her fist slammed into his table.

“What did you say?” She growled through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes. The chatter lulled as stares painted into Enyah.

“Easy, Enyah.” The man said, raising his arms up, “I didn’ mean nothing by it. Slip of the tongue. You’re always the first to rush into danger, thas all.”

“I… Haah,” Her glare loosened as she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re good, Pallel. Just high strung tonight.” Enyah patted Pallel’s shoulders and moved on.

“I remember the Modullah too, girl.” Pallel called back, suddenly sober. His glare drilling into Enyah’s back with his humor gone. “Let the gulls be suspicious. I’d rather that than another one of them beasts.”

“What?” Enyah turned, eyes widened. She was greeted by Pallel chugging down his ale in one gulp, his sobriety quickly turning. Whether real or fake, Enyah couldn’t tell, but she did know she'd be getting no answers from him. A sigh left her as she turned back. Seeing the argument over, a hushed chatter arose around the room.

Reading the atmosphere, Enyah turned to the bar. She leaned her elbow on the counter and dropped a shining coin, calling out with a grin, “I must’ve ruined your ale with that. A round for all for your troubles. On me.”

A chorus of cheers answered her, the unease vanishing in an instant. Even Pallel relaxed, sipping the rest of his drink with a grin. A satisfied smile rested on Enyah’s face. She strode to Gurlin, raised drinks and jests in her wake.

The man hadn’t looked up, keenly focused on his task. Enyah walking up to him hadn’t hindered his whittling. A small man, with hair everywhere except his head. His shirt, slick with Red Spotted Jellyfish Innards, shone in the light.

“A gift from Trallix, they say.” Enyah mused, “Whoever thought jellyfish innards made clothes waterproof deserves some credit.” She stood quietly, arms crossed while pondering the uses of jellyfish innards. A loud gust of wind alerted Gurlin, His gaze darting to the door, brows furrowed. A familiar attire turned his attention to Enyah. His knife paused and he looked up at her in surprise.

“Well, look who it is!” Gurlin bellowed with a grin, his unfinished work set aside. His unease from earlier forgotten, or hidden. “Enyah, lass. The mighty Quiverbeast slayer. And in only half a day too!”

“Hey Gurlin,” Enyah replied flatly. “The quills, right here.” A bag full of quills was dropped onto the counter with a soft thud. Their varied colors shone in the dim light.

“Look at these! Impressive length. Healthy little beasties aren’t they!”Gurlin eyed the quills, stroking his stub of a beard. “Why, if they weren't poisonous, I'd want to keep one of them as a pet. Cute fellers, those Quiverbeasts.” He chuckled, hefting the bag into a lockbox behind his stall.

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“Sure,” Enyah deadpanned, “I’ll bring you a live one next time. Just for you.”

“Ye… don’t have to do that… I already got those two little birds at home.” Gurlin stammered, his grin faltering slightly as he waved dismissively.

“Those two could take a quiverbeast, not sure about you though.” Enyah snorted in response, a smirk on her lips.

He huffed in indignance, though a doting grin remained on his face.

Casually, as if instinctually, Enyah started tapping the table rhythmically. Gurlin’s gaze, upon noticing her hand, sharpened. With a groan, he got up from his table, stretching his back.

“I got a coupl’a wood carvings I made the other day, let me show ye my accomplishments” Gurlin declared, puffing out his chest. “Ye won’t be disappointed!”

Enyah raised a brow, her smirk growing, “If it's anything like that goop you were carving earlier, I wouldn’t call them accomplishments.” She snickered at the unknown lump on the countertop.

“It’s s’posed to be a jellyfish! A jellyfish! Can’t ye see it?” Gurlin barked indignantly, only to be met with the guffaws from the nearby patrons. “Ye mercenaries and yer lack of sense of art!”

“Ye told me t’was gonna be a Brushtail Rabbit, ye lyin jawfish!” Franne called over, an extra empty mug added to an already massive stack.

“Shaddup! Ye heard nothin’ from me!” Gurlin roared back, his face growing redder as he avoided Enyah’s amused gaze. Huffing, he straightened his shirt and gestured towards a nearby door. “Hmph, let’s just go.”

He led Enyah through the door into a small, cluttered office. The space was cozy yet cramped, with a small desk shoved into the corner and two couches facing each other taking up a majority of the room. Shelves lined the walls, filled with random odds and ends from Gurlin's sailing days. Enyah let out a faint smile, recalling his rambling sailing stories that always seemed larger than life.

“This room hasn’t changed a bit, except…” Her eyes gazed upon a few new additions, wooden carvings, now occupying previously empty shelves. Gurlin’s eyes glanced at the window for a brief moment before turning back to as he grabbed one of the sculptures, displaying it to Enyah.

“My proudest masterpiece! What do ye think?” He boasted, holding up a crude sphere with pride.

“Nice rock sculpture. Lots of potential.” Enyah stated dryly, though warmth seeped through her tone as she bathed in nostalgia. Her shoulders relaxed, a familiar comfort radiating within her.

“It’s a…” Gurlin sighed in defeat, “Nevermind. It’s a rock. Ye have no taste, I swear.” Shaking his head, he dropped onto one of the couches, his arms spread across the back. “Come, come. Sit down. It’s been a few months since ye’ve been here, huh.”

Gurlin clearly didn’t like his wooden chair outside. Enyah quickly accepted his invitation and slumped down, luxuriating herself with the soft cushions.

“Really needed to unwind, huh.” Gurlin murmured with a gentle tone. He gazed at the wall, a hint of a pained expression showing before he masked it. “What’s got ye so worked up, girl? Ye’re restless.”

“You should know why.” Enyah murmured sluggishly, lacking her earlier vigor. She leaned back, staring at an empty ceiling. “ You heard what went down out there.”

“Ah, ye mean what’s comin? We’ll weather the storm, girl. We always have.” Gurlin responded calmly, a steady voice. Too steady for Enyah’s liking. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to read his face.

“Why isn’t anyone worried? They don’t care at all!” Enyah questioned, her voice rising in frustration. “Last time this happened a quarter of the town died! What if it’s worse?”

She was seventeen when The Modullah rose from the deep, its roar pausing even the rain itself. She still remembered the screams, the blood, the splintered harbor. One of her worst memories, and one she wasn’t keen to witness occuring again.

“It’s not that I’m not worried, lass.” Gurlin sighed, leaning back against the couch, as if the weight of Pallor’s Port was upon him. “Thirty years ago it was the Pantuma from the jungles, and five years ago it was the Modullah. And next? Could be from the skies for all we know. We don't know where it’ll come from, girl. Nor when. How do we prepare for somethin’ like that?”

Enyah opened her mouth to respond, but faltered. She knew deep down Gurlin wasn’t wrong. She heard tales of the Pantuma, a monster just as bad as the Modullah. Danger came from all around them.

“Girl, instead of stressin over somethin ye can't stop, just enjoy yerself. Have fun!” Gurlin said, his voice softening and face turning to a grin, before quickly turning to a frown, as if he consumed something sour. “Ye can start by losin the act. Those fools wouldn’t give a carp’s burn about yer attitude, ye know.”

Enyah bristled at his words, “But the nobles do care.” she said with intensity, “They want a professional. Someone who gets things done. I’ll make sure they see me as that person.” Her voice hardened, gaze fixed at an unseen goal. “They don't want someone who worries. They want results.”

“You think the nobles would look ta Pallor’s Port of all places for a skilled mercenary?” Gurlin snorted, voice tinged with disbelief. “Here? A small town located in the middle of a jungle, naught but fishers n’ sailors here. Nobles’d sooner forget the town before findin’ any use for us. No Mist, no politics, just peace.”

“I know Gurlin, but I need this.” Her voice hardened even further, unnerving even Gurlin. As if holding onto one last reason to keep going. “I need to feel like I'm doing something.”

“I know how ye feel, girl, but this isn’t the best way to do it.” Gurlin whispered softly, placating the roused Enyah. He leaned forwards, placing a sturdy hand on her shoulder. “Drantei was my friend too. Ye can do more than just hate.”

“I… I can’t. They died so I could live. I’ll use my life to avenge them.” Enyah affirmed with conviction, her determined gaze reflected through Gurlin’s eyes.

“Ye don't need to risk your life for this!” Gurlin roared out in reaction. “How would Drantei feel if he saw ye riskin’ yer life for him?”

“How they feel? How about me? Why did I live? Why am I here? All for this.” Enyah responded in kind, finding courage in her anger and squeezing her fists. Feeling her nails dig into her palms, her anger vanished before a sense of loss replaced it. The painful feeling a harsh reminder. She looked down and whimpered.

“I'm a coward.” She muttered, her voice barely audible. Nothing could stop the surging shame and guilt rising into her chest.

“Yer no coward, lass. I ain’t seen a coward that could take down what ye can. Listen.” Gurlin ordered, staring straight into her quivering eyes. “Sure, yer runnin. Sure, ye got no progress in revenge. Yet ye get up each day, even when ye tell yerself not to. Ye work, ye protect, yer still alive n’ I thank Trallix every time yer back alive.”

Enyah flinched at his words and lowered her head, hiding the storm of emotions inside her. Gurlin slowly got up and leaned on his knee in front of Enyah. He saw the girl she used to be: Happy and full of life. Hopeful for a better tomorrow.

Enyah, leaning forwards with her arms curled into herself, jolted up when she felt Gurlin’s arms wrap around her into a hug.

“Whether ye live for revenge, or find somethin’ else to live for, please, live. For Drantei. For me.” Gurlin begged, voice cracking as he held Enyah tightly, almost as if she’d disappear if he let go.

A soft “I’ll try.” came out of Enyah, making Gurlin gently let go and drop back onto his couch.

“I’m sorry, Enyah.” Gurlin responded, sorrow seeping through his voice. “I didn't mean ta make ye like this. I wanted to see yer reaction, but…” He sighed, and internal struggle raging inside of him. “It's not righta’ me to keep this secret. Know that I'm not happy about this, but ye got what ye wanted.”

“You mean..?” Enyah asked with a shaking voice, eyes widened.

“Aye. A request from the top brass of Orlent. No pay ‘cept information. Information on what happened in Veinrild.” Gurlin spoke, rising from the couch. He gave Enyah a reassuring smile before reaching into an obscure drawer in his desk and grabbing a piece of parchment, carefully kept in pristine condition.

Enyah bore holes into the paper with her gaze, following the parchment’s movements. Gurlin straightened up and dramatically cleared his throat.

“To one miss Enyah Kirnis” Gurlin began, his fake accent eliciting a giggle from Enyah. “For the successful security and transportation of one…” Gurlin squinted, “Name redacted, Thou shallst receive knowledge of what transpired at Veinrild in the year 1320 as payment for the request.”

“Finally…” Enyah whispered full of vigor, vibrating in excitement. Her first lead in almost a decade, she felt her eyes tear up, but wiped it with a clenched fist. Determination rose up violently within her like a volcano. “Where do I have to take this ‘noble’? Are they here in Pallor’s Port?”

“Aye, they’re ‘ere. Hidin out in the scrap district. Not the best place for one of high status. Might be a runaway.” Gurlin said, pondering, “No noble would come here ‘less to run. ‘Specially the one who handed the request. Didn’t look like a trip o’ leasure.”

Enyah processed his words, straightening up for business, “The scrap district, huh. Have to prepare for resistance then. Might be on edge. Who submitted the request?”

Gurlin didn’t have to think hard, that moment he wouldn’t forget easily. “Few hours ago, an armored, bloody man comes in. Knight, by the looks of it. Hmph, took me a few hours to get all the blood out of me place. It was everywhere, let me tell you.”

Enyah coughed, “You’re getting off track, Gurlin.”

“Sorry, sorry. He wouldn’t tell me much, even with Prunsc’s oath of silence, loathe as I am to pray to another god.” Gurlin placated her, raising his hands with his usual grin. “Gotta take ‘em to the capital.”

“All the way to Ollenia? That’s a two month trip, even on Zarts.” Enyah frowned, calculating the distance. “I haven't been that far in years…” She felt a prickling feeling . An all encompassing icy feeling that raged against her determination. A feeling she quickly quashed.

“Orlent estimates it’ll take ye four. Judgin by the blood, attacks are likely.” Gurlin speculated, stroking his beard. “Ye can do it nicely.”

“So escorting a noble for two, maybe four months, while fending off assassins and the like?” Enyah whistled, unperturbed by the danger. It just made her more excited. A sharp grin, with a hunger for blood materialized on her face.”You must really trust my skills.”

“Aye, watched ye grow up myself. Couldn’t be any prouder.” Gurlin beamed, his smirk pained Enyah when she looked at it. “You’ll learn more in dock eighty-four. They’re holed up in one of the sheds there.”

Enyah slowly got up, parchment in her hands. Her head a spiral of confusion, not yet caught up to the present. She fell forward, wrapping a surprised Gurlin in a hug.

“Thank you, Gurlin.” Enyah whispered, hiding her face on his shoulder. “For everything.”

“Ye don't have to thank me, Enyah. Adopting ye has been the best thing to happen to me.” Gurlin smiled, reminiscing about the past.

Enyah let go, looking longingly at his face, before turning away to the door.

“Hey girl!” Gurlin called to her. She turned back, facing him. “Don’t worry about the Port. Focus on your mission. We’ll still be here when you’re back.”

“Yeah. If you don’t kill it fast enough, I’ll be the one to do it this time.” Enyah responded with a grin that didn't reach her eyes. Internally, worry gnawed at her core. She knew it would stay.

“Remember girl! Don’t die. No matter what.” Gurlin finished, closing his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to see her leave.

“Back at you. If you die I'll use your corpse as bait.” Enyah called back, leaving the room. Under her breath, she muttered “stubborn old man.”

The main floor was still as lively as ever. The only difference was Enyah. She felt a distance as she walked past everyone, barely hearing their jeers and calls to her. She felt everything bubbling up. Drantei’s death. The Modullah. Her breathing sped up. Everybody here was so familiar to her, yet so distant. She dashed outside, the door swinging behind her as the rain embraced her.

She looked up at the blanket of dark clouds. Rain coursed along her face. Her hands clasped as a prayer broke through her overbearing thoughts.

“Let Trallix’s rain wash away my woes.”

No response was given. Enyah sighed, hugging herself. how desperately she wished the rain could wash away her past. Instead she sees the same funeral, blurred behind countless tears.

So strung on her emotions, she didn't notice eyes stalking her, unfeeling towards her plight.