After days of endless golden plains, the sight of Sundermere was a welcome relief. The town stretched along the banks of the Merewyn River, its winding streets lined with wooden cottages and canvas-roofed stalls bustling with life. The gentle hum of wind chimes and whispering reeds filled the air, blending harmoniously with the laughter of children and the calls of merchants peddling their wares.
Skybound Drakes soared overhead in graceful arcs, their scaled bodies catching the fading sunlight as they glided toward the horizon. Even from a distance, I could see the lantern strings hanging between buildings, waiting to be released into the heavens for the upcoming Skyfest.
"It's… beautiful," Elaris murmured beside me, her lavender eyes wide as she took in the view.
I nodded. Compared to the cold grandeur of Myra, Sundermere felt warm—alive in a way that cities rarely were. It was a place of stories, of songs, where every street corner held a bard or an elder weaving some tale of adventure, tragedy, or forgotten spirits wandering the plains.
Alaria stretched her arms over her head, letting out a lazy sigh. "Well, it's better than I expected. At least it's not another boring city."
Lucian grinned from the driver's seat of the wagon, giving the reins a tug to slow our approach. "Try not to stab anyone for at least an hour, Alaria."
She smirked. "No promises."
As we crossed the wooden bridge leading into Sundermere, I could already feel the difference.
The air was rich with scents—freshly baked bread from a nearby stall, the faint spice of sizzling meat skewers, the crisp scent of the river winding through the town.
People bustled around us—nomadic traders with brightly colored cloaks, farmers herding woolly oxen, adventurers in worn armor, and children weaving between the crowds with sticks pretending they were swords.
An elderly woman was sitting beneath a massive willow tree, her gnarled hands weaving a patterned tapestry as she murmured an old tale to a group of wide-eyed listeners.
"By the gods, it's lively," Callen muttered, his shield strapped firmly to his back.
Rowan, ever quiet, nodded in agreement, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd.
"Alright," Gareth said, stretching his arms. "First things first—we need an inn, and I need ale."
Lucian laughed. "You just want an excuse to find a pretty girl."
Gareth smirked. "And?"
Elaris rolled her eyes and looked at me. "So, where to first, Noctis?"
Before I could answer, a small girl ran up to us—her braided brown hair swaying as she practically bounced on her feet.
"Are you adventurers?" she asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.
Alaria crouched down, smirking. "We might be. What's it to you, little one?"
The girl grinned and pointed toward the center of town, where a large wooden notice board stood. "If you're adventurers, you should go there! That's where all the best stories start!"
Her excitement was contagious, and I found myself smiling. "Then I guess that's where we'll go."
The girl giggled before dashing off, disappearing into the crowd.
Following the girl's directions, we maneuvered through the winding streets, passing by rows of open-air markets, lantern-lit courtyards, and small taverns overflowing with music and laughter.
The adventurer's board stood near a tavern named The Wandering Drake, its wooden planks covered in parchment requests for everything from monster exterminations to escort missions.
"Looks like this is the place," I said, scanning the notices.
Lucian stepped forward, plucking a particularly old and worn parchment from the board. "Missing livestock… could be wolves, or could be something worse."
Alaria leaned over his shoulder, her crimson hair falling forward. "Wolves? Boring. Got anything with more teeth?"
"Patience," Gareth said, rolling his eyes. "We need to settle in first before picking a job."
I nodded. "Agreed. Let's find an inn, rest, and then decide what we'll do."
After some searching, we found an inn near the river called The Golden Hearth. The building was sturdy, built from thick timber with a wide, inviting hearth crackling in the common area.
The innkeeper, a plump middle-aged woman with graying hair and kind eyes, greeted us with a warm smile.
"Travelers, are you? You're just in time—Skyfest is in a few days," she said as she handed us keys. "Hope you're planning to stay for it!"
Elaris smiled, accepting the key to our shared room. "We wouldn't miss it."
Alaria, who had taken her own key, snorted. "We'll see how long we last before something happens."
I shot her a pointed look, and she just smirked.
As night fell, the lanterns around Sundermere lit up, casting a golden glow over the town. The streets were still lively, bards singing in taverns, people gathered around fires to tell old stories.
We sat at a wooden table near the inn's fireplace, sharing a quiet meal.
Lucian raised his mug of ale, grinning. "To new beginnings, eh?"
Gareth chuckled, lifting his own. "And hopefully a profitable one."
Callen and Rowan nodded, though they remained more focused on their meals than the toast.
Elaris nudged me, her hand slipping into mine under the table. "You alright?" she murmured.
I gave a small nod. "Just… thinking."
Veylara's whisper echoed in the back of my mind.
"Sundermere is a land of stories, but not all stories end well."
Something was coming.
And I had a feeling it wouldn't just be wolves stealing livestock.
The night in Sundermere was unlike any other. The air carried the gentle rustle of whispering reeds, their soft song drifting through the wooden shutters of the inn, weaving with the quiet hum of distant voices. A warm breeze rolled in from the Merewyn River, carrying the scent of fresh grass and damp earth. The golden lanterns that lined the streets flickered like fireflies, their glow casting long shadows over the cobbled paths. Somewhere beyond the town's perimeter, the howls of distant beasts echoed across the open plains.
Despite the tranquility, I couldn't shake the feeling that something lurked just beyond the veil of safety. That same feeling of being watched—it was stronger now. More suffocating.
Elaris lay curled beside me, her steady breathing a soothing rhythm against my chest. Her presence was a reminder of something grounding, something warm amidst the growing unease in my mind. I absentmindedly brushed my fingers through her silken hair, but sleep evaded me. I lay there in silence, eyes fixated on the wooden ceiling, my thoughts tangled in whispers of something unseen.
Then, the room went cold.
Not the kind of cold that came with the wind, but something deeper, something unnatural. My breath hitched. The warmth of Elaris against me was the only thing keeping me tethered to the present.
And then—
"Noctis."
The voice sliced through the stillness like a dagger, urgent and sharp. A whisper, but it rang through my bones as if it had been shouted right beside my ear.
I shot up, my heart hammering against my ribs. My eyes darted across the dimly lit room, my pulse pounding in my ears.
She was here.
Veylara.
She stood at the foot of the bed, her veiled form as ghostly and fluid as ever, her presence warping the very air around her. The silver-lined veils that shrouded her body moved like they were caught in an unseen current, her golden eyes burning like twin suns piercing through the darkness.
But this time, there was something different about her.
She looked urgent. Not her usual slow, deliberate self. There was no teasing in her tone, no lingering taunts of my weaknesses.
Something was wrong.
"You need to wake up fully, now," she said, her voice unusually sharp.
I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing against my chest. "Veylara, what—"
"Listen to me, Noctis." Her voice lowered, but the intensity remained. "You are in danger."
A slow chill spread down my spine. "What kind of danger?"
"Something is watching. Something ancient. Something that knows what you are." Her voice softened, but the urgency didn't fade. "You've felt it too, haven't you? The eyes that follow you, the weight that lingers just beyond your senses."
I clenched my fists, the memory of the past few days flashing through my mind. The uneasy feeling in Myra. The suffocating watchfulness during the journey. The way the wind carried whispers I couldn't decipher.
She was right. I had felt it.
But what could be watching me?
"What is it?" I asked, voice steady despite the creeping dread curling in my chest. "What's coming?"
Veylara hesitated, just for a moment.
"A hunter." Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "A thing that does not belong to this world, but was set upon it to seek out those like us. Those tied to the void. It is drawn to our presence."
Her words sent a slow, sickening dread curling in my stomach.
"Then why warn me now?" My voice was low, careful.
"Because it is close." Her golden eyes flickered. "And because tonight, it will come looking for you."
I felt my breath leave me.
The night was too quiet now. Outside, the once soft melodies of wind chimes had faded into an unnatural stillness. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
I turned my head slightly. Elaris was still sleeping peacefully beside me, unaware of the chilling presence that loomed in the room. The last thing I wanted was for her to wake up to this.
Slowly, I pushed the covers back and slid my feet onto the wooden floor. The chill seeped into my skin, but I barely noticed it.
I met Veylara's gaze. "What do I do?"
Her lips curved ever so slightly beneath the veil, though it wasn't her usual smirk. It was something grim.
"You survive the night."