The forest thinned as the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the rolling hills that lay beyond. The dirt trail became firmer underfoot, its grooves marked by the passage of carts and wagons. The scent of salt hung faintly in the air, carried on the wind from the eastern port.
Caden's body felt like a lead weight, each step dragging more than the last. The battle with the Echo Beasts had drained him further than he wanted to admit. His thoughts churned with doubts and dark whispers, remnants of the shard's influence clawing at the edges of his mind.
"Keep up," Kael called over her shoulder, her steps brisk and sure. "We're not far now."
"I'm coming," Caden muttered, his voice tight. He glanced at Garrick, who walked beside him, his staff tapping a slow rhythm on the ground.
"You're holding together better than I expected," Garrick said, his tone carrying a faint note of approval.
Caden gave a weak chuckle. "That's reassuring."
"It should be," Garrick replied. "The shard's toll isn't just physical. The fact that you're still standing—and thinking—means you're stronger than you realize."
"Feels like I'm barely holding on," Caden admitted.
"You are," Garrick said plainly. "But barely is enough, for now."
As the hills crested, the port came into view below. Aramore's eastern docks were a sprawling mass of wooden platforms, warehouses, and stone buildings, clustered tightly against the shore. Ships of various sizes swayed in the harbor, their sails catching the evening breeze.
Caden paused, his eyes scanning the bustling scene. The air was alive with the sound of shouting sailors, the creak of ropes, and the rhythmic crash of waves. Smoke rose from chimneys and fires, mingling with the sharp tang of salt and fish.
"It's bigger than I thought," Caden said.
Kael smirked. "Ports usually are. Especially ones as important as this."
"Important how?" Caden asked, his brow furrowing.
"Aramore's port is the gateway to the east," Garrick explained. "Trade, politics, people—all of it flows through here. If the Reclaimers are making a deal involving a fragment, this is the perfect place for it. Plenty of secrecy amidst the chaos."
"Plenty of danger, too," Kael added, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Places like this? People disappear all the time."
Caden's stomach churned at the thought, but he kept his expression neutral.
They descended the hill carefully, entering the outskirts of the port as the last rays of sunlight painted the town in hues of orange and gold. The streets were narrow and winding, lined with stone and timber buildings that leaned against one another like old friends. The scent of the sea grew stronger, mingling with the earthy aroma of damp wood and the occasional waft of cooked fish.
The trio drew more than a few curious glances as they passed. Dockworkers and traders paused mid-task, their eyes lingering on Garrick's staff and Kael's dagger, then darting to Caden with suspicion.
"We don't exactly blend in," Caden muttered.
"We're not trying to," Garrick said. "But don't make eye contact unless you have to. The fewer people remember us, the better."
Kael led them through the winding streets with practiced ease, her steps confident as though she'd walked them a hundred times before.
"You've been here before," Caden said, his tone more statement than question.
Kael smirked. "Maybe. A job or two, nothing worth talking about."
Caden didn't press, though her familiarity with the port only added to his growing unease.
Their destination was a small tavern tucked away in a quieter part of the port, its weathered sign creaking faintly in the breeze. The building was unassuming, its shutters half-closed and its door worn smooth by years of use.
"This is the place?" Caden asked, his skepticism clear.
"Information doesn't come from the loudest spots," Kael said, pushing the door open. "It comes from the quiet ones."
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ale and pipe smoke. The dim light revealed a handful of patrons scattered at various tables, their conversations low and hushed. A man behind the bar polished a glass, his eyes flicking to the group as they entered.
"Kael," the man said, his voice gruff but familiar. "Been a while."
"Fenn," Kael replied with a nod. "Still running this hole?"
The barkeep smirked. "Still better than half the places around here. Who're your friends?"
"Travelers," Kael said vaguely, motioning for the others to follow her to a table in the corner. "We need a room. And information."
Fenn raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Room's easy. Information depends on what you're asking for."
Kael leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Reclaimers. We've heard rumors they're in town, and we need to know what they're up to."
Fenn's expression darkened, and he glanced toward the door as though checking for eavesdroppers. "You've got guts asking that," he said quietly. "They're not just 'in town.' They've been making waves. Big ones. Deals with people you don't want to cross."
"Where?" Kael pressed.
Fenn hesitated, then sighed. "Warehouse district. Near the far docks. But you didn't hear it from me."
Kael slid a coin across the table, and Fenn pocketed it without a word.
As the group settled into the corner, Garrick turned to Caden, his voice low. "This is it. If they're here, we'll find out tomorrow. But for now, we rest. We'll need our strength."
Caden nodded, though his mind churned with unease. The port was alive with danger, and the shard's faint pulse seemed to echo the tension in his chest.
Tomorrow, they would face the Reclaimers again. But tonight, they would prepare for the storm ahead.