The southern coast lay shrouded in the golden haze of an impending sunset, its rocky cliffs looming over the restless waves. Two men disembarked from the creaking ferry, their boots crunching against the uneven path that wound upward toward the darkened mouth of a cave. The air was heavy with salt and moisture, clinging to the skin like a second layer.
The cave entrance was damp, the walls glistening with condensation. "Halt," one of the men commanded, raising a hand. The other stopped, his posture tense and alert.
"Well, well, well... look what we have here," the leader said, a grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight before him. Three figures huddled together, fast asleep on the cold ground. Their bodies were intertwined, as if seeking warmth against the chill that permeated the air.
"What a combination!" the other man exclaimed, his voice tinged with amusement. "Runaway lovers, perhaps?"
The leader chuckled, his laughter echoing faintly against the cave walls. But his mirth was interrupted as one of the figures stirred. Erebus regained faint consciousness, his battered body trembling as he opened his eyes to the blurry forms above him.
"Hagglers' Den?" he croaked, his voice barely audible. Pain lanced through him as the dampness exacerbated his wounds.
The two men exchanged a look. "He knows the code," one murmured, his tone suddenly serious.
"They must've come through the tunnel," the other replied.
"Let's take them. Hurry, before anyone else finds them."
The bulkier man grumbled as he hoisted Erebus onto his shoulder. "Why's he so heavy? Is he even human?" he muttered, struggling under the weight. Meanwhile, his companion lifted the two lighter figures, Luciana and Nemesis, with surprising ease.
"Keep moving," the leader snapped. "We can't afford to be spotted by the naval ships."
The men moved swiftly, their steps careful yet urgent. A fleet was stationed at the opposite shore, its presence a constant reminder of the high alert status in the region. To avoid detection, they covered the trio with bundles of smuggled fabrics, concealing them beneath the folds.
Their luck wavered when a sailor from a nearby naval ship called out. "Stop there! What's your business?"
The bulkier man's face paled. "We're screwed," he whispered.
"Shut your mouth," the leader hissed. Straightening his back, he waved to the approaching boat.
"What are two men doing out here alone?" the naval soldier barked. "Don't you know the imperial orders?"
"Aye, we hear them," the leader replied smoothly. "We're independent traders, bringing goods to shore and offering relief to refugees. We mean no trouble."
The sailor's suspicious gaze lingered as his rower prodded the pile of fabrics with an oar. After a tense moment, the rower nodded, confirming their story.
"Well, carry on," the soldier said reluctantly. "Keep these waters safe."
The men bid a hasty farewell, rowing toward the shallow shores where silver sand glimmered under the dying light. Once ashore, they transferred their hidden cargo to an open cart, covering them with goods before setting off toward the bustling town.
The journey into the heart of the town was fraught with tension. Security checkpoints dotted every major intersection, and guards scrutinized every merchant with hawk-like precision. Fortunately, the smuggled fabrics drew little attention, though the men knew food and other contraband would have been a different story entirely.
The cart rattled into the market square, where the atmosphere was subdued. Soldiers patrolled in pairs, their presence casting a shadow over the once-lively streets. The common folk kept their heads down, wary of attracting unwanted attention.
The men's destination loomed ahead: a luxurious seaside hotel with a gilded sign that read Siren's Cove Haven. Nobles and merchants filtered through its grand entrance, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the grim reality outside.
"What do we do about them?" the bulkier man asked as they parked the cart near the back entrance.
"Take them to the reserved suite," the leader replied. Together, they carried the unconscious trio into the triple-story building. The climb to the third floor was grueling, especially with Erebus's considerable weight, but they managed to avoid prying eyes.
Once inside the secluded suite, they laid the three figures on the plush bed. The dim light from the ornate chandelier illuminated their battered forms, a stark reminder of whatever ordeal had brought them here.
"Let's inform the boss," the leader said, wiping sweat from his brow. Without another word, they left the room, locking the door behind them.
Outside, the world carried on, unaware of the secrets hidden within the walls of Siren's Cove Haven.