❝
RUST HANGS low with the early morning sun over the sundry docks of Corsavenna, stretching long golden shadows over the mist-kissed waters below. Underneath light, the sea shimmered, but this calm harbor moved occasionally with long creaking of wood and a low soft slap of waves against the stone piers.
Beside an old telephone booth for the end of the dock stood one individual leaning indolently against the glass, the receiver tightly clasped between gloved fingers.
He was faceless-not by disguise, but by a strange absence–an unnerving void where expression should be. His presence gave an illusion of calm, but something beneath it was volatile, waiting. Like a still flame beneath oil.
The red cropped long sleeve shirt snuggled his body beneath a black sleeveless coat. His arms and neck were wrapped in bandages as if hiding secrets. His loose black necktie swayed slightly with the sea breeze. He had scuffed and worn boots firmly planted. The slung black belt over his shoulder connected down to his pants, adding a strange, militant detail to his silhouette.
Muffled through the phone line, his voice was low and sinister.
"I take it you want me back at the palace now?" he sneered, each word heavy with sarcasm. "After sending me here for some little errand? What—ran out of toys to break?"
He chuckled, but it was hollow, sharp, like a blade dragged along glass.
A pause. Then he added, quieter, colder:
"Or did someone finally start asking the wrong questions?"
He let his elbow rest against the inside wall of this phone booth, while his fingers, tapping against the black leather of his gloves, made a small noise with the receiver. The bleeding sunlight through scratched glass made his bandaged arms feel itchy under the heat, but he didn't flinch; he just stared ahead with an empty disinterest of a cat watching a dying mouse.
"No, no. Don't give me that tone," he interrupted the muffled voice from the other end. "You can't act surprised. You knew what I was when you sent me here." A scoffing sound was followed by an annoyed 'tch' and a roll of the eyes upward, already bored.
But then—a flicker of movement. He turned just slightly, gaze catching the gleam of something-or someone-stepping off a ship. A group of travelers emerged into the morning haze, dust and sea salt mingling in the air.
And here was that figure: Vladimir.
He was tall, composed, adorned like a man whose secrets were to be guarded.
The corners of his mouth arched up slowly, not with joy, but with the satisfaction of a puzzle piece falling into place.
"Well, well," he murmured into the phone, eyes glued to the figure. "Actually... I think I'll stay a little longer in Corsavenna." A pause. Then, softly–almost amused:
"There's something... interesting I need to look into."
The voice on the other end surged with urgency. "HEY—!"
He ended the call before hearing what else would be said.
Echoing the boots, the sound made him feel like a bullet casing hitting the floor. He stepped out into the morning light, boots tapping the wood beneath him. The grin stayed as he adjusted his necktie with one gloved hand, before muttering to himself in a breathy laugh about how he was going on a little walk. "Just a little stroll," he murmured. "Let's see what kind of fun this place has in store."
Sharp cries of gulls ring overhead across the harbor, mixed in with the gentle thrum of morning tides. A murmuring vibration from the ship moored at the docks suddenly creaks as crew members hurry back and forth to secure all ropes onto the vessel. First off the ship was Vladimir, as a strong breeze tugged at his coat the instant he stepped onto solid ground with his boots. His eyes swept across the bustling scene, sharp and calculated, yet his expression betrayed nothing. There was no familiar face in sight. Something tugged faintly at his senses, though–in his best hunch, strange but not unfamiliar. Fleeting. Watching. He furrowed his brows slightly, but said nothing.
Behind came Charlotte walking carefully down the ship with the borrowed pirate clothes replaced with an ordinary cloak and the dress she had before stepping on board. The moment her boots hit the edge of the dock, her foot was caught by an elevated plank and she stumbled forward with a little gasp. An arm quickly wrapped around her waist, steadying her. Startled, she looked up to see Saevionh beside her, calm and unbothered.
"There was no need to grab me like that," she muttered, brushing his hand off gently through her cheeks flushed slightly. "I can handle myself."
Saevionh merely smiled faintly, his voice calm. "Of course. But it would be a waste to let a woman fall, especially one with such potential."
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but the faint twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her amusement.
Not too far behind them, Kali and Azalik stepped onto the docks, confident and at home. Kali threw her arms above her head and grabbed the salty breeze in her lungs. "Ah, finally. Welcome to Corsavenna," she said, a grin on her lips, "and now, we drop you three off at this stop." Surprised, Charlotte turned to her.
"Aren't you coming with us?" Kali shook her head and walked up toward her. She softly patted Charlotte on the shoulder. "Nah. We still have stuff to handle. The sea is our life-we can't stay still too long. Got people to meet, cargo to check, and tides to follow."
Charlotte nodded understandingly. "Of course. The sea's your home." Just then, Azalik came forward with his usual outlandishness, taking both his hands into those of Charlotte's. His eyes glimmered with exaggerated sadness, and his voice wobbled like a tragic poet.
"This is our time to part ways," he declared. "You were the first star in my eyes....among all the stars I've read from the sky."
Charlotte blinked and stunned to experience everything he poured out suddenly. She opened her mouth for a response, but Kali had seen enough. Swiftly, she jabbed her elbow into her cousin's stomach.
Azalik doubled over with a soft wheeze, clutching his stomach. "Stop creeping her out," Kali said with a sigh. "You're starting to sound like a weird astrologer writing a love letter to the moon. I'm getting chills. Bad ones."
"I was being romantic," Azalik groaned.
"You were being weirdly romantic," she shot back. "Not the same thing."
Charlotte was unable to suppress a laugh, tension dissolving in the heat that was their banter. "Now, by the way, I hope you are going to carry much care for the old gear," Kali turned back to her and crossed her arms, half serious: "It used to belong to my sister."
The smile on Charlotte's face softened. "I promise. I'll wear it again the next time I ride your ship." Kali grinned.
"Good. Tavira would have cursed you with bad luck had you not appreciated her work."
"By the way, speaking of, please thank her for the food. I've never tasted anything better than this at sea."
"I will. She'll be smug about it for a week." At this moment, a quiet figure stepped between them.
Small in stature, Anekha emerged, cradling a miniature wooden box in his arms, and Charlotte gave a curious glance in his direction. "What is that?" she asked.
"Concocted medicines," he replied plainly. "The forests of Corsavenna aren't like the rest of Ivalor. Lots of wildflowers and plants that can harm the unfamiliar. You might need this on the mainland."
Charlotte accepted the box with a grateful nod. "Thanks. That is very thoughtful." "Ain't no issue," Anekha waffled with a faint smile before retreating.
While they were talking, one of the ship's crew—Rama—was striding over the deck with a scowl, jotting into a log book that had become wet. He suddenly called, "Captain Azalik! We're missing one barrel! It's not on the manifest!" Kali turned around, letting out a long sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Really now? Let me re-check those later," she muttered. She returned her sight at Charlotte, "I gotta go handle my idiot crew. Take care out there, alright? That Corsavenna is not as clean as it looks." Charlotte beamed at her. "Thanks for everything. Really."
"Don't get all sappy on me, princess," said Kali winkingly before pulling Azalik, who was still sulking, by the collar. Dramatically as he can, he turned back with watery-eyed innocence and outstretched arms toward Charlotte.
"CHARLOTTE! MY STAR! DON'T FORGET ME!"
FOR THE LOVE OF AEGARION. SHUT THE F*CK UP," Kali quickly retorted, yanking him harder. "YOU'RE NOT TWELVE!" Charlotte was smiling as she watched them disappear into the bustle of the crew.
The wind was salty and seductive in her cloak as she turned back toward Vladimir and Saevionh. In golden brilliance, morning poured all over Corsavenna. Behind them, the ship's crew was already shouting, lifting ropes, and preparing supplies for unloading. Pardoned at sea. But what awaited them on land was only just beginning.
Boots were crunching against gravel and sun-soaked wood as the three made their way from the docks and down the narrow path leading away from the port. It would soon end on the edge of the small port town. Vladimir had his hands spread out between them, holding the folded parchment with frayed edges from use and salt, a map hastily sketched by Kali before they de-boarded the ship. He studied the map with a furrowed brow.
"After we pass through the port," he said without lifting his gaze, "there's a forest trail leading to a small village. We'll get to an inn called the Hollow Grove from there." Charlotte tilted her head ever so slightly and looked up at him. "How far is the village?"
"Pretty far, actually," Vladimir replied, lowering his paper and folding it back. "Manageable by foot, but we need to keep our pace. Once it drops at night time, it gets very dangerous in the woods. Locals say wolves lurk once the sun goes down."
"Wolves?" she echoed, voice dipping slightly in apprehension.
"If we're lucky enough," Vladimir continued, "we'll come across a wagon willing to give us a ride to the inn before it gets dark."
Charlotte nodded slowly, to which he added, "The village is small. Quiet, mostly. Some taverns, some little shops. Locals are mostly commoners, blacksmiths, ... and barbarians."
"Barbarians?" she blinked, repeating.
Saevionh threw her a sidelong glance. "Yes. Best to watch your words around them. They tend to have short tempers. One wrong tone and it could turn into a brawl."
Charlotte instinctively reached up and pulled her hood tighter around her head. "Noted."
Walking forward continued, as Saevionh's eyes spotted something ahead. "There," he said, indicating a modest market stall near the corner of a narrow street. "We should stop and stock some supplies for the journey-food, water, and basic essentials."
Charlotte stopped short in her tracks. "I'll just wait outside."
Saevionh raised a brow. "Are you sure? It won't take long."
"I'm sure," she said firmly. "I just need a bit of air."
Vladimir glanced at her briefly but said nothing.
Saevionh hesitated. "Then I will go inside alone."
"No," she hastily said, jerking her head toward Vladimir. "Take him with you. He might be more helpful."
A beat of silence passed between them before Saevain sighed. "Fine. But stay where I can see you."
Charlotte gave him a small nod. "I will. Don't worry."
The two men disappeared into the market while Charlotte stayed put by the entrance, gazing over the milling mass of people. Children scampered about, merchants yelled over crates of fruit, travelers haggled over dried goods and cloth. The smells of smoke-meat and ripe oranges mingled in warm air. For a moment, her imagination let her melt into the scenery, just another figure in the throng.
Then her gaze caught on a wooden rack just across the street, lined with neatly folded newspapers. She was curious and stepped closer to pick one up and scan the bold headline.
Her breath caught.
There it was—her face. Printed clearly under the words WANTED FOR ABDUCTION. Below it, in sharp ink, was the reward amount that made her blood run cold: 100 million auric compensation to anyone who reports her location.
Her heart pounded as she glanced around, but no one seemed to notice. Quickly, she returned the paper to the rack and stepped away, heart hammering in her chest. She began walking back toward the shop, eyes low, but right at the front door, collided with someone.
"Um–I-I'm sorry," she stammered instinctively.
But then she froze.
The man before her was tall and easily towering-over her. She felt dwarfed, almost suffocated by his presence. His shadow now fell over her like a heavy shroud, and something deep in her gut twisted.
She dared not speak another word.
"Why... Why do I feel so scared?" she thought. "His presence... It's frightening."
Slightly leaning forward, the man said, "Oops," his deep but steady voice laced with something unsettling. "Careful next time, little lady."
Her skin prickled. His tone wasn't mocking, but something about the way he said it—calm, almost lazy—made her insides coil. He turned without waiting for a response, hands tucked into the pockets of his black coat as he walked away. She stared after him, eyes drawn to the unruly shock of red hair and the crimson-trimmed sleeves that swayed with his steps.
The bell above the shop door clanged.
Charlotte blinked, snapping out of her trance just in time as Saevionh stepped out with bags of supplies carried by Vladimir. Saevionh's gaze immediately landed on her, noting the strange look in her eyes.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
Charlotte shook her head, clutching her cloak tighter. "No... I just bumped into someone."
Vladimir's gaze carried along with her toward the crowd, eyes narrowing. He swept his gaze across the direction to where she had been looking a few moments ago, but the man was no more. Still, a strange uncertainty stirred within him.
He didn't see anyone suspicious.
But he felt it—something off in the air. And he didn't like it.
Vladimir stood for a moment, his gaze focused on the vanishing direction of the red-haired stranger. Somewhere in his mind tugged a little sense of unease, quiet but persistent as a whisper almost too faint to catch. His brows drew together slightly, lost in thought.
"Vladimir," called Saevionh, cutting through the silence.
He blinked and turned to him, a little surprised to be pulled from his daze. "Ah... sorry," he mumbled.
"Let's get going," Saevionh said brusquely, throwing his satchel over one shoulder.
Nodding, Vladimir followed suit, and the three of them resumed their walk through the town. The cobbled path twisted between vendors and old buildings, the sun climbing slowly higher in the sky. Charlotte remained all quiet, stealing occasional glances back behind her, her mind still haunted by the man she had just passed.
Then around the corner, at the end of the market district, stood a wagon—about to leave, though old but strong. An old grizzled man with a thick beard and calloused hands was climbing onto the bench seat, reins in hand.
Saevionh, without hesitation, raised a hand. "Excuse me!"
The driver turned his head, raising a brow. Saevionh shook the small pouch of auric coins in his hand, letting the satisfying jingle speak for him. The sound drew the driver's full attention, and his eyes gleamed with interest.
Saevionh approached with calm confidence.
"We would like a ride, if there's enough room for three. We can pay enough aurics."