Velrith, Lucas, and Kael had spent the night at an inn near the harbor. The first light of dawn had yet to break. As Nerath's cold wind whispered through the cobbled streets, the three of them gathered in secret beneath the city's silence. Their eyes locked—not with doubt, but with the unspoken weight of what had to be done before the city awoke.
Velrith unfurled the map on the table.
"Patrols around the harbor are tight. Their shifts are meticulously planned. We need to learn them well. There's no room for mistakes."
Lucas was resolute.
"We might create a distraction during the morning shift change. Slip in while their attention is scattered."
Kael shrugged.
"But eyes at the harbor are always sharp. The guards rotate often. If one slips up, the other catches it fast."
Velrith's finger darted across the map.
"We also need to find out which ship we're using. We have to know the best places to hide. If we don't, disappearing will be impossible."
Lucas rubbed his chin, thoughtful.
"Early morning… Some guards might still be half-asleep. That might be our only window."
Kael smirked.
"Sleepy guards? Now that's the kind of opportunity I like."
Velrith allowed a faint smile.
"But we can't take this lightly. Every step must be precise. We minimize risk—or we don't move at all."
Lucas nodded.
"We need to pick the exact day. Weather, patrols… everything has to be factored in."
Kael's expression turned serious.
"And remember—there's always the chance of a fight. We need to be ready."
Velrith stared into the shadows beyond the room.
"Morning silence will be our greatest weapon. We move like shadows—quiet, and without a trace."
As they reviewed the plan one last time, Kael suddenly tensed.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Lucas tilted his head. A faint shuffle echoed from the street.
"Eyes open. Anyone out this late doesn't bring good news."
Velrith moved quietly to the door. Peering through the narrow crack, he spotted two figures approaching in the dark.
"Not friendly," he said in a low, steady voice.
Kael drew his sword. Lucas stepped up beside him, ready.
The two intruders burst in, swift and ruthless.
The first lunged with a short blade. Kael stepped aside with practiced ease and parried. Steel clashed—sharp, ringing.
The second went for Lucas, but met a hard punch to the jaw, followed by a well-placed kick that sent him sprawling.
Velrith melted into the shadows, appearing behind the first attacker. In a single, silent motion, he struck—quick and fatal.
The fight was brief, but intense. All three were left breathless.
Kael grumbled.
"See? Even at this hour, no peace. One distraction like that, and we're screwed."
Velrith paused.
"No one else knows our plan. This is something else."
Lucas added, his voice grim.
"This could be about Rylen—or Lucien."
Velrith nodded.
"It's spread to the towns near the harbor. Something bigger is happening."
Kael gave a crooked smile.
"We're not going to investigate, are we? Though… a bit of fighting wouldn't hurt. The smell of blood keeps cowards away."
Velrith smacked him lightly on the head.
"Kael, this time we sneak. We're not here to play heroes."
Lucas gave an approving nod, and Kael accepted it with a sigh.
They gathered their things in silence. Whatever the day would bring, they were ready.
By morning, the three of them walked the stone streets of the town in silence. The sun had yet to rise, a pale light just brushing the horizon. The townspeople lay uneasy in their beds, while Velrith, Lucas, and Kael moved through the aftershock of recent violence.
In the market square, some stalls remained half-shuttered. Broken windows, scattered produce, and anxious townsfolk with makeshift weapons painted a clear picture: violence had visited in the night.
Velrith stopped in front of a tailor's shop. Behind the slatted shutters, an elderly man shakily tried to arrange fabrics with trembling hands. Velrith approached, speaking low.
"Did you see who did this? Who were they?"
The tailor avoided his gaze and whispered.
"They came at midnight… Faces covered. Armed. Brutal. Only one of them spoke. Gave the orders. The rest just acted. Didn't say who they were. Ruined everything…"
Lucas crouched beside him, gentle.
"Which shops were hit? Can you tell us?"
"The grocer… blacksmith… stove-maker… All the same night. It used to be quiet here. Everyone's scared now."
As they moved on, a group of townspeople passed nearby, voices low. An older man muttered,
"Must be a new group… hitting coastal towns lately. Throwing everything into chaos."
Kael murmured,
"New group, huh? Small town… big match to strike a war."
Velrith narrowed his eyes.
"These attacks… could be Rylen's doing. A way to strike at Lucien. The harbor's one of the crown's richest veins. And Lucien oversees it. That means Rylen…"
Lucas finished the thought.
"…is trying to weaken Lucien by cutting into trade. Undermining his alliance with the Varneth Duchy."
Kael's mind was catching up.
"Looking at the shops—they all seem wealthy. Targeted on purpose. Maybe Rylen can be turned to our side?"
Velrith scanned the map again.
"There's only one way to know—get inside the kingdom. But first, we investigate the harbor."
The sun was cutting sharp angles across the worn stone of the dock. Old ropes and battered crates steamed gently in the warmth. The scent of salt and brine lingered thick in the air, clinging to skin and cloth alike. The port bustled with quiet movement—dockworkers shuffling between piers, hushed words lost to the wind.
Velrith stood behind a stone wall, careful to keep to the shadows. Not even the edge of his cloak touched the light.
"This place doesn't breathe—even at noon," he muttered. "But inside, it'll be quieter. We move now."
Lucas pointed to a narrow stone path on the eastern side of the harbor.
"They don't use that for offloading. Goods came in this morning—they've either been stored or left behind. Patrols avoid the shade; they prefer the sun."
Kael let out a soft chuckle.
"A guard baking in the sun… probably carrying a wineskin too."
Velrith frowned.
"Doesn't matter. Check if the path's clear."
They pressed to the wall and peeked around the corner. A narrow alley, tucked in the shadow of an old warehouse, lay nearly hidden. Two crates and a torn tarp shielded it from view.
Lucas lowered his head.
"That's it. Clearer than I hoped. If we move fast, we'll be inside in two minutes."
Velrith touched the sheath of a small blade strapped to his chest.
"No time to waste."
Kael muttered,
"If we're sweating this much out here, gods know how much blood we'll shed inside."
Velrith took the first step, gliding along the shadowed wall. The wind tugged at fabric, sunlight flashing off metal now and then. As they neared the back entrance, all seemed still.
The rusty hinge at the door was slightly bent.
Lucas stepped forward and brushed his fingers along the edge of the door."It's not locked from the inside. Must've been left ajar during the last inspection."
Velrith narrowed his eyes."Or someone left it open on purpose. Move."
Kael slid ahead and gently pushed the door open. A cool, dim air met them. The damp scent of old stone filled their lungs, replacing the dry heat of the outside. The warehouse looked empty at first glance—just a few toppled barrels and torn sheets in the corners.
Velrith paused in the doorway."It's quiet. Too quiet."
Kael whispered,"Then don't talk. Listen."
They moved slowly, the echo of their steps the only sound that accompanied them.
It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust. Velrith had only taken a few steps when a strange scent hit him—sweat, oil, and aged metal. Then came a faint clatter.
A breath. A voice.
As the shadows peeled back, four figures came into view behind a stack of crates on the left. They wore guard armor, helmets set aside. Two sat on the ground, one leaned against a barrel, another idly rolling a small stone die between his fingers. They were on a break.
Kael stepped back instinctively. Lucas raised a hand to halt Velrith.
"All armed," he murmured, "but careless."
Velrith spoke without blinking."That's our edge. We move quietly. Kael—flank them from the right. Lucas, with me."
Kael nodded and slipped into the shadows. Lucas crouched low, following behind Velrith. Every step stirred faint crunches from the stone floor, but the guards, lulled by fatigue and indifference, didn't seem to notice.
As Velrith neared the first, he held his breath. The man dropped his die——and in that instant, Velrith slipped behind him, arm hooked under his chin, snapping his neck with a single motion. Lucas lunged two paces forward, plunging a dagger into the next man's throat. Kael strangled the seated one from behind. The fourth barely had time to rise before Velrith was on him. A short, brutal scuffle later, he collapsed with a deep gash across his throat.
Silence fell like a curtain.
Kael wrinkled his nose."They reek. Been drinking. Lucky us."
Lucas knelt beside the one still twitching, checked his pulse."Not anymore."
Velrith wiped his hands clean and glanced at the stacked crates."We'll hide the bodies there. If someone inside stumbles on them, we're exposed. But from the outside, it'll still look empty."
Kael spun a loose helmet in his hand and shoved it onto his head."So… we're guards now? Do I look impressive?"
Velrith shot him a cold glare."As long as you don't speak, yes."
They stripped the corpses of their armor and slipped into the gear. One by one, they dragged the bodies into the shadows between the crates, covering the blood stains with cloth. Footprints were wiped clean. Breaths steadied.
Lucas secured a clasp on his shoulder and glanced sideways at Velrith."Ready? Might be more behind the next door."
Velrith nodded, eyes sharp."Doesn't matter. We're already inside."