Evertide City was nothing like Goldwell. Where one was built for military might with strong fortress walls, the other was built in honour of the Sea itself.

Dramos could only stare in wonder as Doriel’s ship slowly sailed its way into the grand harbour. The entire city was built around it. Every building, road, bridge and walkway faced out towards the shores. The city sat within a gulf of the Cenavalis Sea and everywhere he looked buildings littered the hilly coastline. Beyond the city, protecting its flank, were beautiful mountains, whose tall peaks were always capped with snow.

Two grand turrets, flying the navy blue banners of the Bellaurose Kingdom, sat on either side of the gulf, inviting them in as they silently sailed past.

Hundreds of other ships nearly as grand as The Undine sat within the bay or were moored to the many piers that jutted out all along the shores.

Doriel steered their vessel towards the largest, centremost pier. The dock itself ran all the way to the shore where its path was taken over by the wide stone main street that ran straight through the heart of the city and up towards the mountains where Rosemore Castle sat perched at its base. The city swelled all around the stronghold. There were no walls separating it from the rest of its civilians. It stood in direct contrast to the Trealladian Castle, where only those permitted within its walls could ever get a close glimpse of the Royals’ household. But not here. Here, the castle was located right in the heart of the city and its civilians were granted full access to walk the grounds. Only the keep itself was inaccessible without approval, guarded heavily by armed Paladins.

That did not mean the city itself went unguarded. Everywhere he looked, men and women in shining silver armour and navy capes patrolled the streets or stood guard.

The similarities to Goldwell were shared in the people hustling back and forth, dragging supplies to and from the harbour. As was the case in Goldwell, Evertide was primed for war. Though they may not have had the same military might as the Trelladain army, they ruled the battle at sea. Their mighty ships were built strong and crewed by only the best in the Kingdom.

Every crew had a Shaman within its ranks. A man or woman capable of calling on the Elements to help guide them across the waters. Dramos had only met The Undine’s Shaman once. He was a short man with a grand belly whose long hair was wild and unruly. The crew called him Banksy. He mostly kept to himself but had a room located not far from Doriel’s and the two of them seemed close. From what Dramos had gathered, they were similar in age and Banksy had previously come from the Ayradora Kingdom, before making his way to Doriel’s crew. When he’d asked how that came to be, he got the typical response: War.

The Mage that had joined them after their attack by the Saviour’s lone ship had stayed with them the remainder of their journey. She’d kept a watchful eye on him but hadn’t made much effort to speak with him since revealing his shocking mission.

The King of Bellaurose was missing and by all accounts presumed dead, but the Queen wasn’t willing to accept that until she knew for certain. It was up to Dramos to find out more.

The problem was that he had very little to go on, nor was he a hunter of any sort. When Dramos had brought this up to the Mage, who still found it amusing that he didn’t know who she was, she’d insisted that he was better than their alternative. Which was nothing. A boost in confidence, to be sure.

The Queen had been so preoccupied with the war against the Saviour and with a limited military, she needed someone on the ground within the Kingdom who could handle himself in a fight, while remaining discreet.

From listening to the crew for the past month, he’d gathered that they’d all believed the King to be dead - killed at the hands of the Saviour himself. But the Mage had provided Dramos with evidence to suggest that wasn’t the case. It was all they had to go on but it was precious enough to have them scouring Aesor for someone like him to help. They did not want to risk word getting back to the Saviour or any of his supporters that the Queen was looking for him, for fear it would risk hurting him and any recovery mission. So while they remained focused on the war with the Saviour, they carried on as though he was dead. Dramos was to locate him and was to remain tight lipped and speak to no one about his task.

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“I had that same look on my face too.” The elven Mage had come to stand next to him at the railing, taking in the city before them. “It’s a beautiful place to call home.”

Dramos turned to look at her long ears. “You still have an Elyzeme accent. You mustn’t have been here long.”

“No, but I stay for my Queen and am honoured to be here,” she said without looking over.

“Will I be taken to her once we dock?”

“She’s not currently here.”

“That’s too bad. I would’ve liked to have met her before my… hunt. I have questions.”

The elf turned to look at him. “I bet you do. Tell me, what do you know of the Queen?”

Dramos frowned. “Only what the rumours and stories tell but I’d prefer to reserve judgement until I meet her.”

“I’m sure you would. Just as I’m sure the rumours say she’s beautiful.”

“And my focus is on the King,” Dramos said coolly, meeting her penetrating stare. Her eyes reminded him of the weapons across his back.

“I should hope so,” her tone matched his. “With her family’s situation and the state of Aesor, you could imagine the impact it has had on her.”

Dramos nodded his head, but really couldn’t relate. Yet he sensed the warning in her words. There would be zero tolerance when it came to crossing the Queen. This Mage would see to that.

“I will carry out the task you have asked of me, collect my reward, and then be on my way.”

“We’ve arranged a room for you within The Griffin Claw inn. A horse has also been provided as well as an assortment of items that may assist you. When we make land, you’re to be escorted there immediately. You are welcome to stay for as long as necessary. Should anyone catch wind of what you are up to, you will be on the first ship back to Goldwell.”

Dramos raised his brows. “And if I need to speak to the Queen?”

“You don’t,” she said simply.

“So all I have to go on is this?” Dramos tapped his chest. A pocket had been sewn to the inside of his shirt and it contained a small folded up piece of parchment she had given him the other day.

“That’s correct.” She finally turned her gaze back to the encroaching city. She sighed so quietly that Dramos wasn’t sure he’d heard it. “There is no guarantee your mission will be a success. The probability is woefully low. But any aid you could provide will have to be enough.”

~~~

The Griffin Claw was an immaculate inn, with over a dozen rooms on its upper level, though all of them remained empty, with the exception of the one he’d be granted to stay at.

When Dramos had arrived, the innkeeper, Ashleigh, a lovely woman with dark red hair and freckles across her nose and cheeks had escorted him to his room at the end of the hall. She’d informed him that all of his accommodations and meals were taken care of and if he needed anything to call on her. She stayed in a room on the lower level. When asked why the inn was empty, she’d said that with the war they didn’t get travellers like they used to.

His room was small, but grander than any place he’d stayed in the last few years, or perhaps ever. It had a large bed, with far too many pillows and lush blue blankets. A separate bathing chamber was located across from it and the window overlooked the Sea.

A large chest lay waiting for him at the bottom of the bed. Inside was a pack with various supplies, such as maps of the city and Kingdom, a few healing potions and various pieces of clothing - thankfully none in the navy blue colours of the Kingdom. Most were dark browns or black.

There was also a large coin purse with more money in it than Dramos had ever seen before - hundreds of bronze coins, fifty or so silver ones, and even a dozen gold ones. If this was his reward for saving the Prince’s life, he could hardly imagine what awaited him if he could locate the King. There was enough money for him to settle into a small village and never be seen again.

On the nightstand beside the bed was another opal stone, like the one he’d found in Doriel’s pocket. It was warm to his touch, and he slid it into the hidden breast pocket of his shirt. The letter next to it only consisted of the name of a city guard and station number.

Dramos studied the map of the City long into the evening, committing the streets to memory. He popped downstairs briefly to have a quick and quiet meal before deciding to get some rest.

Tomorrow he’d begin his search for the missing King.