Nicolas didn't waste a second.
The door had barely closed behind the cloaked figure when Nicolas darted into the night after him, the letter's importance burning in his mind. His boots pounded against the cobbled streets as he kept to the shadows, his eyes locked on the shifting figure moving ahead of him. The city's alleyways were a twisted maze, but Nicolas knew them well enough to stay on the stranger's trail.
The moon's pale light flickered through the narrow gaps between the buildings, casting long, eerie shadows across the stone walls. Nicolas kept his distance, his heart racing as the figure moved with unsettling speed and grace, slipping between darkened storefronts and empty alleyways as though they were second nature.
The farther they went, the quieter the city became. Nicolas felt a chill creep up his spine, the familiar noises of the bustling port fading away, replaced by an oppressive silence. It was as though they were venturing into a forgotten part of town, a place not meant to be seen after dark.
This is no ordinary thief, Nicolas thought as he ducked behind a stack of crates, keeping the stranger in sight. He could feel it in his bones—the same sensation he'd had in the presence of the old man when he spoke of the beast, that crawling, gnawing sense of something vast and dangerous just beneath the surface.
The figure ahead didn't so much as glance over his shoulder, yet he moved as though aware of every step Nicolas took. The chase stretched on, taking them deeper into the winding streets. Nicolas's breath quickened as he realized they were heading toward the docks—the oldest, most decrepit part of the port where only the most daring or desperate dared to tread at night.
As they approached the docks, the air grew thicker, heavy with the scent of saltwater and damp wood. Nicolas felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The ships moored in the distance looked like skeletal shadows, their sails drooping like the tattered wings of forgotten beasts. He watched as the stranger slipped through a narrow alley, disappearing into the yawning darkness of an abandoned tavern that leaned precariously over the water.
Nicolas paused at the mouth of the alley, his heart thudding in his chest. The tavern was a relic of another age, its windows long shattered, and its sign creaked ominously in the salty breeze. He could feel the weight of his decision pressing down on him—there was something waiting inside that tavern, something far more dangerous than a mere thief.
But there was no turning back now. The letter was the key to everything. He tightened his grip on his sword and stepped forward, slipping through the broken doorway into the gloom.
Inside, the tavern was worse than it looked from the outside. The air was thick with dust, and the floorboards groaned beneath his weight as if they might give way at any moment. Faint moonlight filtered in through the cracked windows, casting uneven shadows across the room. Nicolas crouched low behind an overturned table, his eyes scanning the space for any sign of movement.
There—just ahead. The cloaked figure stood at the far end of the room, his back to Nicolas, speaking in low tones to someone hidden in the shadows. The voice that responded was faint, but the words sent a shiver through Nicolas.
"The letter must reach Black Reef," the unseen figure said, their voice cold and precise. "Failure will not be tolerated."
Nicolas clenched his jaw, every instinct telling him that whatever was being discussed was far beyond a simple treasure hunt. Something far darker was at play, and it all centered on that letter. He shifted slightly to get a better view, but the floor beneath him creaked, loud enough to make him freeze.
The stranger paused, his head tilting ever so slightly, listening.
Nicolas held his breath, staying as still as possible, but he knew he'd made a mistake. The figure in the shadows spoke again, softer now, but with a hint of amusement.
"You're being followed."
In an instant, the cloaked figure spun around, his hood falling back to reveal the same pale, gaunt face from before. His eyes, gleaming with that unnatural intensity, locked onto Nicolas. Without a word, he reached for the dagger at his side, his movements unnervingly smooth.
Nicolas stood, sword ready, the tension between them thick in the dusty air. The stranger stepped forward, his cold smile returning.
"Curious to know what you've stumbled into, boy?" he asked, his voice low and mocking. "You won't live long enough to regret it."
Nicolas's muscles tensed, ready for whatever came next. The chase was over. Now it was a fight for survival.