The smoke from the granaries hung like a shroud over Melaka, a bitter taste in the air that spoke of fear and disruption. Whispers of hardship, of food shortages, snaked through the marketplace, stirring unrest among the diverse population. The Sultan's court, usually a picture of serene authority, was now a hive of urgent meetings and hushed debates. Aishah, now more than ever, understood the Shadow Seeker's cunning. He wasn't just attacking with magic; he was attacking the very foundation of Melaka's prosperity and peace.
"He aims to destabilize us," Master Aris said later that night, his voice low and troubled as he stared at a freshly updated map of Melaka, noting the scorched areas where the granaries had stood. "To create discord, so that when he reveals himself fully, the people will be too desperate, too fractured, to resist."
Aishah, still reeling from the revelation of the Dragon Scale's cost, felt a cold dread intertwine with a growing fire of defiance. "We can't let him, Master. We have to find the other scales. Bakar said they're connected to the land, the sky, the jungle, the heart."
Master Aris nodded slowly. "Indeed. And the journals of my ancestors hint at their general locations, often tied to significant natural landmarks or ancient sites. But finding them will be no simple task. The Shadow Seeker will undoubtedly be seeking them too, perhaps even now." He tapped a finger on the map, on a jagged mountain range to the northeast. "The Scale of the Sky, perhaps. Or the Scale of the Jungle, deep in the interior."
Their discussion was interrupted by a rapid knocking at the workshop door. Master Aris opened it to reveal a young man, breathless and pale, a messenger from the Bendahara, the Sultan's chief minister.
"Master Aris! The Sultan requests your immediate presence, and that of your apprentice. Urgent news from Johor. A large fleet, heavily armed, has been sighted approaching our waters. They bear the banner of the Raja of Siak."
Aishah's blood ran cold. Siak. A rival kingdom with a long-standing grudge against Melaka, known for its aggressive expansion. This wasn't a coincidence.
"The Shadow Seeker," Aishah whispered, looking at Master Aris. "This is his doing. He's orchestrated this, to pull our defenses thin, to create a diversion."
Master Aris's face was grim. "A two-pronged attack. Clever, and utterly ruthless." He turned to the messenger. "Tell the Bendahara we are coming."
As they hurried through the darkening streets towards the Sultan's palace, the sounds of Melaka seemed to shift. The usual vibrant hum was replaced by an undercurrent of anxiety – hurried footsteps, hushed conversations, the clatter of weapons as the palace guards prepared for a potential assault.
Inside the palace, the atmosphere was tense. The Sultan, a regal but worried figure, sat flanked by his advisors. The Bendahara, a man of stern resolve, laid out reports of the approaching Siak fleet. Plans were debated, strategies formed to defend the harbor and the river.
Aishah, standing quietly beside Master Aris, felt the wooden fish pendant begin to hum, a frantic, almost desperate vibration. It was sensing the encroaching danger, the direct threat to Melaka. The Sultan's court was focused on the immediate, tangible threat from Siak, but Aishah knew the true danger lurked in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
This was no longer just about magical artifacts. This was about the survival of her home. The Shadow Seeker had chosen his gambit, and the storm was gathering on all fronts – external invasion and internal decay. Aishah felt the weight of the city settle upon her shoulders, a crushing burden of responsibility. If Melaka was to survive, she would not only have to outwit the Shadow Seeker, but lead the charge to awaken the ancient powers that lay dormant beneath her beloved city, before it was too late. The time for whispering was over; it was time for the dragon to roar.