The door let out a deep, beast-like roar as it opened inward, requiring the strength of several men to push it. With a heavy thud, it swung wide, its momentum threatening to crush anything in its path. Sky's gaze flicked nervously to the guards as they closed the door behind him, the locks echoing ominously in the palace.
Escorted by two guards, Sky stepped into a world of reflective marble. The polished walls gleamed so brightly he could see his anxious reflection staring back at him. Around him, high-class citizens—nobles draped in exotic fabrics, silks, and expensive leather—milled about, their outfits shimmering with jewels. They exuded confidence and power, casting fleeting glances at him before turning away, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disdain. Paintings of royal lineages, grand conquests, and statues of Elysian heroes adorned the walls, telling tales of a glory Sky could hardly grasp.
In the center of the room loomed a giant golden throne, where King Cavalon leaned in close, engaged in quiet conversation with his subjects. His royal silver sword shined in the blooming light, always by his side, always at the ready. Sky found himself frozen in place, the circular marble floor beneath him seeming to spin as he stood in the center of the throne room, bathed in the light that poured in. Above, elegantly crafted archways framed the space, allowing golden light to pour in like liquid sunshine.
As Sky stepped into the throne room, a complex tapestry of scents enveloped him. The air was thick with the rich aroma of polished wood, mingling with the faint, sweet fragrance of beeswax from the flickering candles lining the walls. A subtle hint of incense wafted through the air, its smoky undertone lending an air of reverence to the grandeur of the space.
Beneath these inviting scents, there lingered a faint metallic tang, perhaps from the ornate armor worn by the guards, mixing with the musk of the high-class citizens who filled the room. Their luxurious fabrics carried traces of exotic perfumes—notes of sandalwood and jasmine—adding an air of sophistication, while the underlying scent of sweat hinted at the tension and anxiety that hung thick in the air.
Opulence and anxiety blended in the overall olfactory experience; the air itself seemed charged with unspoken truths and royal authority. Amid the gathered nobles, a figure stood out—tall and imposing, dressed in rich robes that shimmered like a starlit night.
The Inquisitor Orthrand, standing slightly behind King Cavalon on his throne, exuded an aura of power and mystery, his immaculate staff of gold glinting in the light. Intricate designs adorned the shaft, swirling in patterns that hinted at arcane knowledge. He positioned himself as a sentinel, watching over the proceedings with keen, piercing eyes that seemed to evaluate everyone and everything around him. Just behind were his personal guards, seamlessly blended in with King Cavalon's knights. Clad in polished armor that reflected the light with a shimmering effect, they stood at attention, swords sheathed but radiating an intimidating energy. Their calm demeanor belied their readiness; they only moved when absolutely necessary, creating an air of quiet authority that amplified the Orthrand's imposing figure.
Cavalon, seated comfortably upon his golden throne, leaned in closer to the Orthrand, engaged in quiet conversation with him before turning his attention upon the young man and the large dwarf at his side. With a subtle flick of his hand, he dismissed his subjects. He studied Sky intently, noting how the old clothes hung awkwardly on his thin frame.
The officer stepped forward, gripping the sigil and family crest tightly. "Your Majesty," he announced, presenting the trinkets. "We recovered these from the young man."
Cavalon's expression shifted, interest igniting in his gaze. "My boy, Captain Zain, gave this to you? What happened to him?" His voice held authority, but Sky felt the words catch in his throat.
For a moment, Sky hesitated, his heart pounding. Memories of the previous night flooded back—chaos, fear, loss. He took a shaky breath, struggling against the weight of grief pressing down on him. Finally, he found his voice, though it trembled. "A monster killed him …," he managed, barely above a whisper.
Cavalon leaned in, his voice steady. "Please, relax. Speak clearly. What happened to you and your group? Keep it simple." Aleyn nudged him forward gently, a supportive presence.
Sky's hands trembled, but he took a deep breath, focusing on the king's eyes. They were firm yet patient. Slowly, the fog of fear lifted, replaced by determination. After days lost at sea, we stumbled upon an island. His voice faltered, memories crashing over him like waves, threatening to pull him under.
"An island, you say?" Cavalon's eyes narrowed as he processed Sky's words.
Sky nodded, breath coming in shallow gasps. Murmurs rippled through the room. Scholars and the king's men exchanged doubtful glances, their skepticism thick in the air. The king gestured for Sky to approach a large map spread out on a nearby table. "Point to us on this map where you saw this island."
The officer unfurled an old, brown-yellow parchment, revealing a world map, its continents outlined in faded black ink. In the bottom left corner, a compass marked the title "Eden" in elegant script.
Sky's eyes widened as he took in the map's enormity. Elysian felt small compared to the vastness of the world, and he searched for the island where everything had changed. "I don't understand; it should be here," he said, fingers trembling as they brushed the paper. Confusion morphed into pain, and a sharp headache throbbed behind his eyes.
Standing by Cavalon, a tall figure with a severe expression stepped forward. The Inquisitor adjusted his spectacles, his gaze sharp and calculating. "Dear boy, that is nothing but ocean," he said, his voice dripping with skepticism.
"I know, but please believe me, it was there!"
As Sky's plea hung in the air, Orthrand cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Your Majesty," he interjected, disbelief lacing his voice. "While I respect the young man's experience, I can't help but feel that this boy's recollection is nothing but a figment of his imagination."
His gaze shifted toward Sky, calculating and sharp. "If there truly were such occurrences, I would certainly have been able to detect them," he continued, a hint of challenge in his tone.
He stepped forward and, with a subtle motion, extended his hand, palm open, as if reaching out for something unseen. A faint shimmer danced in the surrounding air, suggesting a device, hidden from view, that allowed him to sense otherworldly energies over long distances. He waved his hand ominously, scanning the room, even hovering it briefly over King Cavalon, as if searching for any hidden powers that might lurk beneath the surface. He concentrated, waiting for any sign that might contradict his skepticism. "Yet, should there be any truth to his claims, one might expect to feel some trace of it, even in this realm of doubt."
His hand remained poised, but he felt nothing. The staff in his other hand shimmered faintly, but it too detected no energies. Disappointed, Orthrand walked back beside the king, his expression as severe as ever.
Sky's heart raced, desperation bubbling within him. "But it felt real! I saw the faces of my people bleeding out of it; they were screaming, crying. It wasn't an animal!"
Orthrand remained unfazed. "What you describe sounds like a figment of a desperate mind, not a creature of reality. The mind can conjure terrifying images when pushed to its limits. You were at sea for days, likely starving and on the brink of dying of thirst. It's no surprise you may have succumbed to seeing illusions born from fear."
Frustration ignited within Sky, heat rising in his cheeks. "But it was real! It attacked us! We didn't imagine it!"
"Real or not, we must be cautious with our language," Orthrand insisted, tone firm. "Words like 'monster' invoke fear and panic, and without evidence, they can mislead us. We owe it to ourselves to approach this logically, not emotionally."
King Cavalon glanced between Sky and Orthrand, weighing their words. "Are you suggesting we dismiss his account just because it challenges our understanding?"
"Not dismiss, Your Majesty, but investigate with a rational mind. I suggest we gather more information before jumping to conclusions. Perhaps we should send a team to explore the waters where he claims this 'monster' lives," Orthrand replied, his tone calculated and composed.
Cavalon paused, deep in thought, his gaze shifting between Sky and the trinkets in his hand. He moved Zain's sigil to the side, inspecting it. After a moment, he returned it to the officer, who gripped it. "And what of this? Did you find it on the island too?" he asked.
"Yes," Sky replied, determination growing, slowly finding the courage to speak before being interrupted again.
"Your Majesty," Orthrand said, adjusting his spectacles and looking around the room, "we are in Elysian, the city of gold, where wealth is abundant. Acquiring a small piece of gold, especially one shaped like the family crest, would not be difficult for someone with dubious intentions."
He turned to Aleyn, a knowing look in his eye. "And let us not forget that the boy travels with a master dwarven craftsman. It's plausible he has orchestrated a scheme to deceive the royal family for riches or favor."
The weight of the accusation pressed down on Sky, his heart racing. "But I didn't steal it! It was on an old ship that Zain cut out. Before he died, he gave it to me. He wanted me to escape. He gave his life to save us."
Cavalon glanced between the two subjects, not sure in believing Sky's account and the Inquisitor's caution. "We must find out the truth of this claim. However, dismissing a survivor's experience so readily could be a grave mistake."
"Your Majesty, we cannot allow ourselves to be swayed by a mere boy's emotional plea. If he indeed stole the crest, it could lead to significant embarrassment or worse for the royal family. We must act cautiously," Orthrand insisted, his voice unwavering.
The court erupted in murmurs, nobles exchanging glances, torn between disbelief and intrigue. The scholar's words struck a chord, sowing seeds of doubt in the minds of those present.
A young woman entered from behind the throne, the light from the ceiling obscuring Sky's view of her. The sound of her heels tapping against the floor drew his attention as she approached, a parchment in her hands. "Reports about the other groups of refugees," she whispered. Sky glanced over, recognizing her as the same woman he had seen leading the group of healers back at the harbor. They shared a brief glance; her eyes were gentle and fair.
Sky's hearing faded as Orthrand pressed on. "Young boy, did you hear what I said? We require something more concrete to act upon. Do you have any proof detailing what you saw? What did this island look like?"
Sky stepped forward, reaching into his sling as he presented his journal to the Inquisitor. "Drawings! I've got my drawings; I drew everything I saw."
He opened his sling, handing over the journals filled with his sketches. The officer passed them to the Inquisitor, who flicked through them one by one, confusion crossing his face. "These are all waterlogged. Some I can see, but they make little sense." Orthrand revealed the pages to the court, drawing laughter from the nobles.
"Please, I'm not making this up!" Sky yelled, stepping forward. The guards tensed, their weapons poised in his direction. Aleyn tried to hold him back, but Sky realized it was becoming hopeless. His voice weakened. "Will you do nothing?"
Cavalon, distracted by the unfolding chaos, turned back to Sky. "My boy, even if you had these experiences, I cannot act based solely on the testimony of a boy. I need something concrete to help you. Besides these journals, do you have anything else to prove you were really there on this mysterious island? If not, this monster conjured from magic, then anything magical?"
Sky hesitated, about to reveal the gemstone he had picked up, but something stopped him. He didn't want to give it up. He feared no one would believe him.
An overwhelming wave of helplessness washed over him. He stood there, eyes drawn to the ground in shame. Even without looking at everyone else, he could sense their laughter and contempt.
He shook his head. "No, nothing…"
The room filled with looks of pity and disdain, reinforcing the idea that he was just a delusional young man clinging to fantasies. Cavalon closed his eyes, shaking his head. Orthrand waved his hand dismissively at the soldiers. "Then that will be all. You may escort him out."
Fueled by desperation, Sky kneeled before the guards as they reached for him. "Please, I beg of you! I'm telling the truth. Whatever I found there took everyone. It took my mother! If this monster ever gets out, you will all die! It will kill you all!" He pleaded, his mind racing back to the horrors he had faced the night before. He could see it all again: the island, the monstrous entity, and the memories of his mother, tears welling in his eyes.
As the guards approached to seize him, Sky's eyes darted to Zain's sigil, within the officer's possession who had clipped it to his side. In an instant of desperation, as he was being pulled away, he reached out, deftly pocketing the sigil with a quick motion.
As stress overwhelmed him, he felt himself losing consciousness, dark smoke beginning to seep from him. No one noticed as the guards grabbed him by the arms, pushing Aleyn away.
"Please, don't throw me out!" Sky yelled as the officer seized him by the shoulder.
A fellow guard struck Sky in the stomach with a swift blow, knocking the wind out of him. He coughed, struggling to catch his breath. "Get him out, get him out of here!" the officer shouted.
"Get yer bloody hands off me!" Aleyn fought against the guards, but the guards easily overpowered him.
The young woman examined the family crest, her fingers tracing its edges, overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity. Her father gently held her back as she took a step forward. "Let him go, Eve," he said.
Cavalon straightened, his expression resolute. "We cannot ignore the potential threat. Dispatch a warship with soldiers to investigate the area the boy mentioned. I want you, Inquisitor," he gestured to the tall figure, "to lead this investigation."
Orthrand bowed gracefully. "As you command, Your Majesty. I shall go with due haste."
The steel doors closed behind Sky and Aleyn as the guards threw them out onto the steps. Sky struggled to rise, his hands shaking from stress-induced migraines. Aleyn rushed over, placing a supportive hand on Sky's shoulder to help him up. The guards discarded Sky's sling and journals, scattering his belongings on the ground.
"Lad, are you alright?" Aleyn asked, concern etched on his face.
Sky crawled desperately, gathering his belongings and stuffing them into his sling. He held his head in his hands, the ringing in his ears intensifying with each cough, as if he were being struck by a hammer from the inside. Yet the pain of being disbelieved hurt more than his migraines.
"C'mon, lad, I got you," Aleyn reassured him. Sky took one last look at the palace, deep resentment boiling within him. A group of guardsmen surrounded them, beginning to escort them back to the dock.
Sky was not in the mood to speak. On the train ride back, he crept into the darkest corner he could find, wishing to disappear. The migraines throbbed in his head, and a high-pitched ringing filled his ears. Anger bubbled within him, stemming from the frustration that no one believed his truth. His face showed defeat, his eyes unblinking. He felt like he had let down everyone who depended on him.
It was almost like a dream; he resigned himself to sleep, wishing not to wake up.
Aleyn sat across from him, the guards watching them cautiously. He could hear their whispers, their fingers pointing, wondering who the boy across from him was. They had witnessed him being thrown out and must have come to the same conclusion. He brushed off the judgment, refusing to view Sky as a lunatic. He didn't think artists were particularly dangerous people. Instead, he took the time to mend Sky's wounds, feed him, and almost adopt him, feeling an inexplicable connection to the boy that reminded him of his own daughter.
As the train neared the dock, the horn blared, and white smoke billowed from the furnace as the brakes screeched to a stop. The two disembarked, Aleyn constantly glancing back to ensure Sky wasn't falling too far behind. It had only been the morning hours since Sky had set foot in Elysian and now he felt it was all a waste.
Hours had passed and the golden light of the setting sun cast an orange glow on the horizon, gradually shifting to a dark navy blue. Aleyn found himself in front of his favorite tavern by the sea, The Enlightened. By this time, the harbor was empty, and the construction workers had gone home for the day while the crew of the Elsa worked on ship repairs and resupply. He wanted to distract the young man under his care—perhaps with a grand tour of the city or by showing him the best place to drink. But Sky, lost in thought, sat at the harbor's edge, staring at the sunset. His sketchbook lay untouched beside him; nothing could bring him comfort, be it food or entertainment.
The door to the tavern opened behind Aleyn, and a woman approached. He greeted her as he had done a thousand times. "Ah, Lux, the fairest of the fair!"
"Aleyn," she replied with a nod, her gaze shifting to the young man. Lux, elegantly dressed in silks, wore her long blonde hair braided to her waist and exuded a sweet rosemary fragrance. Though she appeared to be around twenty-five, her confident movements and knowing eyes suggested a wisdom far beyond her years.
"This is the one you told me about? The one from the ocean?" she asked, looking at Sky.
Aleyn nodded, murmuring as he glanced at him.
But then something caught his eye. Out in the distance, two scout ships emerged from the shadows of the dock, their sails unfurling gracefully against the backdrop of the dusky sky. They cut through the water with purpose, leaving soft ripples in their wake. The ships glided smoothly, the crew aboard moving with practiced ease, focused on their mission. Suddenly, the ships hummed with energy. The sound grew louder, resonating in the air as the crew engaged the turbine engines. A bright blue glow emanated from beneath the vessels, illuminating the surrounding water with an otherworldly light. Sky's heart raced as he witnessed the transformation—what had once been mere boats were now becoming something far more formidable. As the turbines roared to life, the ships' hulls shimmered, and a powerful force lifted them off the water. The vessels rose, hovering gracefully above the surface, their engines propelling them upward into the twilight sky. The sight was mesmerizing, a marvel of engineering and technology. Sky squinted against the setting sun, watching as they soared higher, breaking through the clouds and disappearing into the expanse of the evening sky. He could feel the rush of wind against his face, the sound of the engines echoing in his ears even from this distance.
Sky then caught sight of an older gentleman and his wife standing in the harbor, waiting for Zain to return. A stab of grief pierced his heart, knowing Zain would never come back. Compelled by an unknown force, he reached for his bag and made his way toward the couple. Aleyn, his crew, and Lux stopped to watch him.
The couple turned as he approached. Her tear-streaked face showed the toll of her heartache, and she looked as though she carried the weight of the world. Sky reached into his bag and, with an open hand, presented the sigil medallion Zain had given him. As she recognized the token, her composure shattered, and she broke down, cradling it as if it were her very life.
"I'm so sorry," Sky murmured, bowing his head to them. The father turned sharply at Sky's voice, his expression a blend of anger and sorrow.
"Hey, you! How did he—how did he die?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with emotion.
"He died trying to save me. He was a good man," Sky replied, feeling the weight of his words. The man stood for a moment, absorbing his words; he was content knowing that his son was no coward. Then he nodded, his expression firm.
"Don't waste your life, boy. Don't let it be for nothing."
As the mother broke down, cradling the sigil like a precious relic, Aleyn felt a pang of grief for her loss, but also for Sky's burden. He realized how much the boy had already endured, yet here he was, striving to bring comfort to others even as he struggled with his own pain. Aleyn's gaze softened as he noted the way Sky held his head high, trying to offer solace despite the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes.
When the father turned to Sky with his sharp, pained words, Aleyn felt a mixture of anger and admiration. The man's rawness cut deep. As he watched the couple retreat into their home, Aleyn couldn't shake the feeling that Sky was more resilient than he had first realized.
The mother, weak and trembling, looked at Sky, her lips moving silently. Though he couldn't hear her, he could read her lips: "thank you." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed the sigil to her heart, and the father wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Together, they retreated into their home, shutting the door behind them. Sky bowed to them one last time. Aleyn, Lux, and the crew stood in speechless silence, witnessing the weight of the moment.
Aleyn felt a lump form in his throat as he watched Sky reach out to the grieving couple. The young man's courage to approach them stirred something deep within him—an ache of recognition and an unexpected pride. Aleyn's heart swelled as he saw Sky offer the sigil, the embodiment of Zain's sacrifice. In that moment, Aleyn understood that beneath the boy's trauma lay a spirit of profound empathy.
The silence that followed felt heavy, as if the weight of their shared sorrow hung in the air. Moved herself, Aleyn turned to Lux, whose eyes glistened with unshed tears. She exchanged a look with Aleyn, and he nodded slightly, acknowledging the depth of the moment they had just witnessed.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in deeper hues of blue, Aleyn approached to Sky, a gentle hand placed on his shoulder, concern etched on his face. "You've been through a lot today, lad. How about we step in for a drink?"
Sky hesitated, offering only silence with a hint of uncertainty. He had never been to a bar before.
Aleyn's hand gently rustled his shoulder. "Ye know, sometimes sharing a drink and a few stories can help lighten the heart. Trust me, it might do ye some good."
With a reluctant nod, Sky followed Aleyn toward the tavern, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses growing louder as they approached the door. Inside, the warm glow of lanterns illuminated the space, casting a cozy ambiance that felt inviting amidst the lingering shadows of the day. Lux smiled warmly as she led the way into her humble abode.
The Enlightened was a hotspot, especially among sailors. Nestled at the border of the city and the sea, it attracted those who enjoyed the view and the opportunity to meet unfamiliar faces. The tavern functioned as both a bar and a restaurant. The interior featured old gray brick walls supported by sturdy timber beams, decorated with vibrant flowers and drinks from various cultures. Artifacts and paintings from the East adorned the space, giving it a worldly charm. A glorious fireplace served as the centerpiece, its flickering flames casting a welcoming glow.
The dim lighting created an intimate atmosphere, with dark timber tables and chairs that showed signs of years of use yet remained well-maintained. Framed pictures hung on the walls, showcasing the Lux's travels. Judging by the vast array of images, it seemed she had journeyed far and wide, always accompanied by the same group of friends.
Music filled the air, with musicians playing lively tunes and patrons singing along in the dimly lit corners. The dance floor was alive with movement, where revelers lost themselves in the night's rhythm, intoxicated by both drink and joy. It was a place where everyone knew each other, exchanging gossip and rumors with the familiarity of old friends. Anything of interest that happened in Elysian was bound to pass through this tavern, where gold, jewels, and whispered secrets served as currency—an invaluable cesspit of information for those who knew what to ask.
As night fell, customers poured in: sailors and guards seeking to drink away their troubles, some hiding from domestic lives, hoping to forget for just one night.
In a quiet corner where the noise of the crowd couldn't reach them, Sky sat with Aleyn, feeling the warmth of the tavern wrap around him. As they settled into the tavern, Smoky darted around Sky's feet, playfully nipping at his pant legs and wagging his tail with uncontainable energy. Sky chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind the puppy's ears. "What a little ball of energy you are," he said, watching as Smoky rolled over onto his back, inviting a belly rub.
Aleyn watched the interaction with a smile, then reached into his bag and pulled out a small red ball. "Here ye go, lad," he said, tossing it lightly to Sky. "This here is Smoky's favorite toy. Keeps him busy when ye need a wee bit of peace. Just give it a toss, and he'll be all over it!"
Sky caught the ball, a smile breaking through his earlier unease. "Thanks, Aleyn. I'll make sure he has fun with it." The air of the atmosphere was intoxicating. It seemed like a place well lived in and got Sky audibly curious for the first time since landing in Elysian.
"Lux lives here?" Sky asked Aleyn.
"Aye, lass," Aleyn nodded. "Not a thing happens in this city without her knowing about it."
Sky fell silent, staring into the distance as thoughts swirled in his mind. Aleyn's low, steady voice pierced his thoughts. "What's weighing on your mind, lad?"
"They didn't believe me. I don't understand. I told them the truth." Sky's bewilderment hung in the air, drawing a deep sigh from Aleyn.
"Look, lad, sometimes folk just don't want to hear things they can't understand," Aleyn replied gently, his hands open in a gesture of reassurance. As a single tear rolled down Sky's cheek, he looked up at Aleyn, vulnerability etched on his face. "But ye believe me, don't ye?"
"Of course I do." Aleyn's tone softened. "But sometimes, words alone aren't enough. In a city full of people, there will always be those who refuse to believe what ye say. Even your actions might not convince them; sometimes, silence speaks louder."
Sky lowered his gaze, feeling the weight of resignation settle over him. "Has it ever happened to you? A time when nobody believed you?" His voice was barely a whisper.
Aleyn paused, his eyes reflecting a distant memory. "Once, but... that's a tale for another time."
A heavy silence enveloped them until Aleyn broke it with a deep breath. "But there will come someone who believes you, no matter how absurd it seems. Those are the ones to hold on to, the ones worth keeping close."
"I'm sorry about yer mother. She seemed like a lovely woman." Aleyn said, his voice warm with empathy. Sky nodded, offering a silent thanks, his heart aching.
"You're here now. As long as you're alive, ye make things right. Whit will ye do?" Aleyn asked, his gaze steady.
Sky contemplated the memories of his time with her on the island. A new resolve bloomed within him. Holding his journal tightly, he flipped through the waterlogged pages until he reached the drawing of her. "It's because of her I'm here. It can't be for nothing. Whatever this thing is, I have to know."
"See the end of what?" Lux called out as she settled into the seat next to them.
"So, I hear this is your first day in the city, and it's been quite the adventure," she said with a playful grin.
Sky glanced over at a group of off-duty soldiers and guards at the next table, their eyes fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and judgment. He could hear their whispers and felt a rush of anxiety. Losing his nerve, he sought to shift the conversation.
"It was probably just a bunch of nonsense, anyway. I'm just trying to find my place here," Sky said, his voice steadier now. Lux leaned back, a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes, but she understood.
"Don't be a stranger. Many odd things have happened over the years. I've seen all sorts from one end of the world to the other; chances are, nothing will surprise me," she said, her smile returning. Aleyn chimed in, his hands hitting on the table.
"This is his first time here. Never had a drink. What do you think about popping his cherry?" Aleyn gestured toward Sky, who jolted awake from his trance.
"… Huh?" Sky stammered, confusion clouding his expression.
Lux reached out, gently lifting Sky's chin to inspect him, her gaze moving across his face and into his eyes. She had seen her fair share of men, casual and fun encounters that rarely left a mark. But she recognized a delicate heart when she met one.
"He's just having fun. You're old enough to enjoy a woman's warmth now. I'll get you some water; you need to rest. Aleyn, two daiquiris for you?" Lux said as she stood up to head to the bar.
"Aye, two," Aleyn replied, gesturing with his fingers. Lux shot him a wink before departing.
"Why get two?" Sky whispered, still trying to catch up.
"Rule o' life, lad. Always get two. If ye lose one, ye'll have another. Ye'll be drinking and suddenly think, 'Oh, where did my drink go?' No worries—ye'll always have this one instead. Goes for weapons; it's always wise to have a backup when ye're in a fight. Goes with clothes—ye never know when a tear will happen in a tight spot. And even ship parts! I tell ye, when we're out on the sea, having a spare sail or a spare oar or spare engines can mean the difference between life and death. Flawless logic, right?" Aleyn chuckled. "Ye ever had a daiquiri before?"
Sky shook his head.
"Oh, you're gonna love it! One and a half ounces of strong rum, three-quarters of the freshest limes squeezed down, and just a wee touch of syrup. It'll smack ye right in the face! Make you reconsider your life!" Aleyn said, gesturing animatedly. "Do ye want one?"
Sky hesitated and again declined. Aleyn's enthusiasm dimmed slightly, but he still managed a smile. "Well, when you're ready, we'll have a drink together."
As Sky watched Lux leave, he absorbed the bustling atmosphere. The novel sounds of table tapping and dancing feet echoed in his mind, intensifying the throb of his impending migraine. From his dark corner, the world slowed, each moment stretching painfully. He noticed a man drinking rum, spilling it down his shirt; a couple danced and laughed in muted joy, and the clinking of glasses punctuated the air.
Aleyn glanced at Sky's sketchbook beside him. "Aye, lad, I saw yer drawings in yer notebook. They're excellent!" he exclaimed, leaning closer. He reached over, politely dragging the sketchbook toward him, flipping it open to inspect the pages.
"Thank you," Sky replied, a small smile creeping onto his face as he watched Aleyn admire his work.
"What's the secret to your drawings?" Aleyn inquired, peering at the sketches with genuine curiosity, as if expecting a mythical answer.
Sky paused, letting a smile form. "There's no secret, just practice. There's nothing special about what I do; I've just made a lot of mistakes along the way."
"I am but a humble artist!" Aleyn sang, gesturing dramatically as if performing on a stage. The two shared a joyous smile, the tension easing slightly.
As Sky continued to scan the room, he noticed a large, watchful hawk perched by the window, its piercing gaze fixed on him. An unsettling feeling crept over him. Aleyn, sensing Sky's discomfort, leaned in closer to reassure him.
"That's Hermes, Lux's hawk. She won't bite, I promise. At least, not that I can remember," he said with a chuckle.
Sky's attention shifted back to the crowd when, in the depths of the throng, a figure caught his eye. A woman wreathed in fiery white smoke emerged, her wings shimmering in the dim light. What frightened him the most was the fact that her body was transparent. She stood in a shadowy corner of the pub, her back to him, gazing out at the sea. Suddenly, she turned and vanished into the crowd.
"Lad, what are ye looking at?" Aleyn asked, noticing Sky's intense focus.
"Do you not see that?" Sky replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Aleyn followed Sky's gaze, squinting into the crowd for a moment before turning back. "See whit?" he asked, settling back into his chair as he waited for his drink. Sky couldn't believe it; the burning woman had been in clear view, yet Aleyn had seen nothing.
Even Aleyn's dismissive response made Sky question his own sanity. Just then, Lux returned, drinks in hand, and slammed them on the table. Aleyn leaned forward, a proud smile lighting up his face. "Look at what this beautiful lad drew!" he exclaimed, gesturing toward Sky's sketchbook with a flourish, as if unveiling a masterpiece.
Lux's brows raised slightly in genuine interest as she set the drinks down, her gaze scanning the pages filled with Sky's artwork. She flipped through the sketches, nodding along. "These are quite impressive," she acknowledged, though her voice carried a weight of recognition. As her fingers brushed over a particular drawing—an intricate depiction of the ruins on the island—something flickered in her eyes, a shadow of understanding that she quickly masked. The secret history of those ruins whispered through her mind, but she kept her expression neutral, not revealing the deeper knowledge she held. "You've captured a lot of detail here. It's… very evocative," she added, her tone steady but with an undercurrent of something more. Sky glanced up, catching a hint of something in her expression, but before he could decipher it, Lux had already moved on, lifting a drink to her lips as if to wash away the moment.
Aleyn wasted no time and held up his daiquiri to toast.
"Here's to living every moment to the fullest! May ye find joy in the journey, no matter where it leads ye!"
Sky, not wanting to spoil the moment, returned the toast, a small smile breaking through his earlier unease. "To new beginnings," he echoed, clinking his drink against Aleyn's daiquiri.
"Aye, to new beginnings!" Aleyn grinned, and without missing a beat, he downed his drink in an instant, the vibrant liquid disappearing in a flash. "Ah, that's the stuff!" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Sky took a cautious sip, the sweet and tangy flavor bursting on his tongue. For a moment, the world felt lighter, and the surrounding chaos faded into the background.
The hours slipped by as they shared stories and laughter, the tavern's lively atmosphere wrapping around them like a warm blanket. Yet, as the evening wore on, the crowd thinned, patrons drifting out into the night.
Eventually, Aleyn glanced around and clapped his hands together. "Right, lad! Time tae get ye back tae the Elsa. We've a long journey ahead, and the sea won't wait for us!"
Sky nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and weariness. He thought briefly of the woman wreathed in white smoke and wings—the unsettling image tugged at the corners of his mind. But he pushed it aside; tonight was about new beginnings, not ghosts. Together, they made their way out of The Enlightened, the cool night air refreshing against their skin. The stars twinkled overhead, a vast canopy that reminded Sky of home.
They walked along the quiet docks, the sound of water lapping gently against the hulls of the ships. As they reached the Elsa, Sky's heart swelled with a sense of belonging, even amid the turmoil of the day.
Once aboard, Aleyn yawned widely, the fatigue of the day catching up with him. "I'll take the first watch, lad. Ye head on down below and get some rest."
"Are you sure?" Sky asked, glancing around at the crew members already asleep in their bunks.
"Aye, I'm sure. Just don't be a stranger; wake me if ye need anything," Aleyn replied with a warm smile.
Sky nodded, feeling grateful for the dwarf's presence. He made his way down the narrow passage, but once settled in his bunk, he found sleep eluding him.
The ship rocked gently, and the soft sounds of the sea should have been soothing, but his mind raced with thoughts of the day—the haunting vision of the ghostly woman, losing Zain, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. He rolled onto his side, attempting to find a comfortable position, but the rest refused to come.
As the clock struck midnight, silence enveloped the Elsa. The crew remained sound asleep, but Sky's thoughts spiraled. He listened to the creaking of the ship and the distant lapping of waves, a stark contrast to the lively tavern he had just left behind. Then, just as the stillness settled in, a soft sound echoed through the corridor—a gentle rustle, as if something were stirring in the depths of the night. Curiosity piqued, his gaze drifted to the table where the broken pocket watch lay, the intricate mechanisms glinting faintly in the dim light. An inexplicable pull drew him closer, as if the watch were calling out to him.
As he approached, fragments of voices swirled in his mind. He heard Aleyn's excitement, vibrant and full of life, recounting the tale of how he had come across the timepiece decades ago, his laughter echoing through Sky's thoughts. Alongside it, the voice of the watchmaker floated in and out, speaking of craftsmanship and dedication, his pride in every gear and spring palpable.
Caught in this auditory tapestry, Sky felt a surge of energy course through him. It was as if the watch was awakening something deep within. Without thinking, he gathered the tools scattered on the table, his hands moving almost instinctively as he set to work on the delicate mechanisms. He focused intently, the sounds of the tavern fading away, replaced by the rhythmic clicking and whirring of the gears falling into place. With a final twist of a tiny screw, the pocket watch sprang to life, the hands beginning to move with a soft tick. A rush of satisfaction surged through him, but before he could dwell on it, he heard it again—the unmistakable sound of running footsteps. This time, it felt urgent, beckoning him to follow.
Quietly, he crept out of the cabin, the cool night air hitting him as he stepped onto the deck. He focused intently on the sound, moving cautiously so as not to wake any of the crew. As he reached the end of the dock, he spotted her—the winged ghost woman from before, standing at the edge of the water. She gazed out at the sea, her ethereal form illuminated by the moonlight. As Sky took a step closer, the gemstone he carried glowed softly, casting a gentle light that flickered like a heartbeat. It pulsed in rhythm with his own excitement and fear, illuminating his surroundings and drawing his gaze back to the ghostly figure. What does she want? He thought, his heart racing. Is she real, or am I losing my mind? Just the night before, he had dismissed her as a trick of the light, a figment of his imagination born from grief and exhaustion. But there was a presence about her now, a calling that felt undeniable, drawing him in.
She appeared to sense his presence, glancing back over her shoulder, but instead of fear, there was a calm recognition in her gaze. Then, with a graceful motion, she turned and walked away; her form fading into the shadows as she made her way toward the residential district of Elysian. Driven by a compulsion he couldn't understand, Sky took a step forward, ready to follow her into the night. Just as he was about to move, he felt a gentle tug on his trousers. Smoky, the puppy, whined softly, his eyes wide and anxious, as if sensing the unease in the air.
"Stay here, boy. I'll be back," Sky whispered, trying to calm the pup.
Of course, Smoky didn't understand; he just wanted Sky to spend time with him. The puppy whined again, tugging at Sky's clothes. In a moment of inspiration, Sky remembered the red ball Aleyn had given him earlier, saying it was one of Smoky's favorite toys. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small ball and waved it enticingly. "Alright, come on, boy! Stay close."
Sky glanced back at the ghostly woman, her silhouette beginning to dissolve into the shadows. He couldn't let her get away again, but as he turned back to Smoky, he felt a pang of guilt. The puppy whined again, this time louder, pawing at Sky's leg, as if pleading with him to stay. Relenting, Sky sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out Aleyn's red ball, waving it enticingly in front of Smoky. "Alright, come on, boy! Stay close!"
With a wag of his tail, Smoky's excitement surged, momentarily forgetting the ghostly figure as he focused on the ball. But the urgency of the moment still lingered, pressing at the edges of Sky's mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that something important was at stake, and Smoky's presence reminded him of the bond they shared, even as they followed the elusive woman through the alleys and districts.
Sky slipped into the shadows. Aleyn's heart tightened with a surge of concern. He sensed a protective instinct swelling within him, a gnawing unease creeping over him as he watched the young man disappear into the night, Smoky trailing eagerly behind.
"Where are ye going, lad?" Aleyn muttered under his breath with worry.
He stood still for a moment, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. This boy had already faced too much; the last thing he needed was to wander off into the unknown, chasing ghosts—literal or otherwise. A deep breath escaped him, but before he could settle his thoughts, he noticed how quiet the ship had become, the gentle lapping of waves now feeling ominous. Just then, a flurry of movement caught his eye. Aleyn turned to see Hermes, Lux's hawk, take flight from the perch by the ship's railing. The bird spread its wings wide, catching the moonlight as it soared into the night sky, gliding effortlessly. Aleyn's breath caught in his throat; the hawk appeared to be following Sky, its keen instincts leading it to the young man.
Aleyn slipped into the shadows, each step purposeful as he followed Sky's trail. The darkness thickened around him as his the night was still young.