"W–where are we, anyway?" I coughed, still tasting river water and panic. My head throbbed. My lungs burned. The world wobbled, then steadied into towering trees, twisting roots, and drifting sheets of pale mist.
Duke looked down at me like I had asked the dumbest question in existence.
"You, my half-drowned friend," he declared, "have officially washed up on Stormcrest Island. The Stormcrest Frontier, specifically."
"Island?" I repeated.
"Yep. Massive. Wild. Untamed. Lots of teeth. Some plants explode for no reason."
I blinked. The colossal trees stretched into the sky like ancient pillars, humming faintly with energy. Mist curled around their roots, glowing softly in the shifting light.
"This… is nothing like Zetrion."
"Correct," Duke said. "Zetrion is dull, suffocating, and obsessed with rulebooks. Stormcrest is the opposite. No kings. No nobles. No chains. No rules at all."
A chill crawled over my skin.
"No rules?" I said slowly. "So… lawless?"
"Pretty much."
My jaw clenched. Perfect. I survived drowning just to end up on the one island built entirely on everything I despised.
Duke noticed. "Let me guess… you're not a fan?"
"I hate crime," I said, the words sharp. "Pirates. Raiders. Thieves. Anyone who thinks they can just take what they want because nobody stops them."
His expression shifted—less amused, more understanding.
"Fair warning," he said. "Stormcrest doesn't really care what you hate."
"Then I'll just have to care twice as much."
He snorted. "Yeah. That'll definitely work out."
I pushed myself upright, heart pounding.
"How long was I out?"
"Two days."
My stomach dropped. "My mother—where is she? And that man with the silver hair—he grabbed her. Where did he take her?"
Duke raised his hands. "I don't know. But listen—he didn't drag her off like baggage. He carried her like she mattered."
That didn't soothe me. Not even close.
"What direction?" I pressed.
"No idea," Duke said. "Stormcrest twists paths. And the storm was insane. I barely got you out."
I swallowed hard. "But you saw him? His Armor?"
Duke hesitated. "Yeah. Hard to forget."
I shivered as the memory surfaced—the man standing on the riverbank. His posture steady in the chaos. His armor black, reflective, almost glassy. Etched with glowing lines that moved like veins.
Ancient.
Wrong.
Not from any kingdom I knew.
"What kind of metal was it?" I asked.
Duke rubbed his wrist. "Nothing I've ever seen. Not iron. Not steel. Not anything from merchants or relic collectors."
He blew out a breath.
"Honestly? The only time I heard a description close to that was in stories."
My stomach tightened. "What kind of stories?"
He grimaced. "You're gonna hate this. Children's stories. The Black Citadel kind."
My chest tightened. "That's not real."
"Obviously."
"It's a bedtime scare-myth."
"Correct."
"A fake fortress that supposedly shifts around the world, showing up only to the doomed or the wicked."
He nodded. "Exactly. So fake it's practically mandatory to laugh at it."
"So why mention it?"
"Because," he said slowly, "the armor that man wore looked just like the stories describe. Same black glass-like metal. Same glowing lines. Same… ancient feel."
My skin prickled.
"That's impossible."
"Oh, I agree."
"So you're saying—"
"I'm saying," Duke cut in, "that we saw something we shouldn't have."
Outside, thunder rumbled like a giant waking up.
I stared into the swaying trees.
"If the Black Citadel were real…" I murmured.
"It's not," Duke said immediately. "Huge if. Ridiculously huge. Now come on—before the weather decides to murder us again—"
A blast of thunder cracked the sky apart.
He sighed. "—too late."
Stormcrest storms didn't arrive gradually.
They struck.
One moment sunlight filtered through leaves; the next the sky smothered itself with black clouds. Wind ripped across the forest. The air tingled metallic and dangerous.
"Shelter!" Duke shouted. "Move!"
Lightning tore through branches overhead, blue-white and violent. Sparks jumped tree to tree like living fire.
We sprinted over twisting roots. Rain hadn't started yet—but I could feel it stalking us.
"This is normal?!" I yelled.
"For Stormcrest?" Duke yelled back. "This is called 'slightly irritated'!"
A bolt hit a fallen trunk three feet away, blasting a crater into it.
We dove behind a ridge as the sky opened up—rain turning into a solid wall of water, pounding the earth hard enough to bruise.
"There!" Duke pointed toward a hollow under an uprooted tree. "Cave!"
We slid inside just as the downpour became a waterfall.
The air in the cave was cold and damp. Darkness swallowed everything except a faint glow deeper inside—reflecting off stone like distant eyes.
Duke collapsed beside me, breathing hard.
"Well… you're alive. Again."
"And the bad news?" I asked.
He lifted a trembling hand and pointed deeper in.
Two pale eyes stared back.
Wide.
Still.
Electric.
My pulse froze.
"Duke," I whispered, "what is that?"
He whispered back, "A mistake."
The creature stepped forward—sleek gray fur rippling, antlers sparking with blue heat, claws sinking into the earth.
A Stormstag.
Young, but strong enough to end us both.
Duke leaned toward me very, very slowly.
"Whatever you do," he whispered, "don't make any sudden movements."
"What counts as sudden?" I hissed.
"Breathing too confidently."
The Stormstag snorted. Sparks leapt across its antlers.
Outside, the storm shrieked.
Inside, the creature waited.
Between them, something inside me stirred.
Not strength.
Not fear.
Something deeper.
The same thing that woke up the day my life as I knew it vanished.