A heavy atmosphere filled the tavern. Julian held his sword more determinedly than before. Breaths were held. Only one question occupied everyone's mind: who would strike the first blow?
"Theo… how could you?" The captain spoke in a low voice, though he knew this moment was inevitable. His tone dripped with false despair.
"What do you mean, Captain?" Theodore said, lifting his hood slowly.
Julian's eyes widened in shock. His grip loosened on the hilt of his sword. When the hood was fully back, his smirk vanished. Two piercing blue eyes glinted in the dim light of the tavern.
"Y-you... who are you?"
"Have you already forgotten me, Sir Knight? I'm Theodore."
"Don't talk nonsense..." Julian's voice faltered, but before he could recover, the captain cut in sharply.
"Why did you take so long, boy!" The captain's frustration cracked through the tension.
"I had to take care of something, Captain," Cyrus replied, stepping forward. The weight of what had just transpired was heavy in the air.
Without another word, Cyrus led them outside, away from the tavern's stifling stares. "We need to move quickly. Explanations can wait, but time isn't on our side."
Thus, Cyrus had achieved his goal.
Before these events, he had slipped into the village like a shadow, listening to whispers in darkened corners. He was looking for a way off the island. When he heard news of a ship bound for the mainland, he'd waited, planning. But Theodore had wanted to present the ship to the pirate king, and that didn't sit well with Cyrus.
He spent long hours by the shore, staring at the swirling wall of mist that clung to the horizon like a looming death. The mist moved as though it were alive, crawling beyond the waves, devouring all who ventured into it.
Finally, the ship arrived, and Cyrus followed its crew with careful steps. His opportunity came sooner than expected.
"I'm a mercenary with magical talent, and I can handle long-range attacks..." Cyrus had offered himself, knowing exactly what they needed.
Julian, still catching his breath, couldn't hide his suspicion. "Why did you help us?"
Cyrus didn't flinch. "I have business in the lost realm. Our goals align."
The captain, however, wasn't so easily convinced. His gaze lingered on the bloodstains on Cyrus's cloak.
"And Theodore? What happened to him?"
Cyrus looked down, brushing away the remnants of Theodore's betrayal. The bloodstains evaporated, disappearing into the air like smoke. "He's dead. He won't trouble you anymore."
The captain's eyes narrowed, doubt rippling beneath his stoic expression. Theodore's betrayal stung, and trusting Cyrus wasn't any easier. But the captain knew he had no choice. He needed allies—magical ones, especially.
"We need to reassess," the captain said quietly. "The map is still the priority."
Julian, unaware of the true mission, merely nodded, following the captain's lead.
They slinked through the village's narrow alleys, ducking into the shadows as guards passed by. Cyrus moved like a phantom, his cloak billowing in the dark.
"We need to leave immediately," Cyrus urged. "They know we're here."
"But I haven't gotten what I came for," the captain muttered, his voice tight with frustration.
"What exactly are you looking for in this hellhole?" Cyrus asked, his curiosity piqued.
"A map," the captain responded, keeping his voice low.
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "A map?"
Before they could continue, a shout echoed from the end of the alley. The captain cursed under his breath.
"We need to go!" he barked.
They climbed a wooden ladder, escaping onto the rooftops. Guards patrolled some of the nearby buildings, but Cyrus crouched low behind crates, signaling for them to stay hidden.
"We'll cross the rooftops," Cyrus whispered, eyes darting across the way. "There's a rope we can use to reach the next building, then blend into the street below."
The captain nodded, pointing to the rope. "You first."
Cyrus hooked his legs over the rope and slowly pulled himself to the other side. Below him, lanterns flickered in the village square, casting faint glows over the milling crowds. He moved with the precision of someone who had done this countless times before. Once he reached the other side, he signaled to the captain.
The captain followed, his movements cautious, the rope creaking under his weight. With each tremble, he held his breath, knowing one wrong move would send him plummeting. But finally, he made it across.
Julian went last. His pulse quickened as he hung between rooftops. He froze when a guard's gaze swept dangerously close. But as soon as the guard turned, the rope snapped beneath him.
"Urgh!" Julian crashed through the window of a nearby house, falling onto a table with a deafening thud. Shards of glass scattered across the floor.
"Run, Julian!" the captain shouted as the guards closed in.
A gunshot rang out, splintering the wood beside them. Cyrus cast a spell, a cloud of white smoke engulfing the guards, blinding them temporarily. Julian scrambled through the broken walls, tearing through rooms with the aura of his sword as guards swarmed.
"Julian, channel your aura and strike forward!" the captain commanded.
Grinning, Julian focused his energy. With one swift motion, he unleashed a vertical slash, sending a wave of blue energy that obliterated everything in its path. Cyrus cast another spell, creating two illusionary doubles of himself and the captain, making it seem like they were still jumping across rooftops. The guards, fooled by the decoys, rushed in the wrong direction.
"We have ten seconds!" Cyrus hissed. They dashed into a narrow alley, the chaos fading behind them.
The captain stopped suddenly, pointing to an underground hatch. Without a word, they slipped into the darkness beneath the village.
Inside the suffocating underground chamber, Cyrus conjured a faint light, illuminating the damp walls. They rested, catching their breath in the dim corridor.
"If there's a map, it's with the pirate king," Cyrus said, breaking the silence. "But I doubt he'd keep something that valuable here. Not in a place like this."
The captain's eyes flickered. "We didn't get a chance to introduce ourselves. May I ask your name?"
Cyrus hesitated for a moment before answering. "Zhu Fan. My name is Zhu Fan."
"Interesting name," the captain mused. "I haven't heard one like that before."
Zhu Fan smirked. "You were curious about the map, weren't you?"
The captain nodded, still wary. "They say the map isn't written on any paper. Instead, one man knows the route. A prisoner of the pirates."
Zhu Fan raised an eyebrow. "If that's true, then that man's already dead. No one would leave such a secret unguarded. They would've killed him as soon as they got what they needed."
The captain stiffened, surprised at the logic. He had concocted the story to manipulate Zhu Fan, but the boy had already seen through it. The captain's mind raced, but he couldn't reveal his hand just yet.
"Perhaps," the captain conceded. "But the map leads to the palace of the God of Memories. Nothing worth chasing comes without risk."
Julian, still catching his breath, looked between them. "How do we reach the heart of the village?"
"Not us," the captain said. "Him." He gestured to Zhu Fan. "You want to prove yourself, don't you? Bring me that map by sunrise, and you'll have your share of the treasure."
Zhu Fan's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Of course, Captain. Of course."