From a first glance on top the mountainside, Kion could see a beautiful town. A place bustling with life and vigour, where fishermen sold sweet smelling fish at the market stalls while merchants bartered spices and other street food.
It was a cosy place, a place that seemed to function well on its own without any form of outside influence.
But then Kion began to notice the details.
Areas that were destroyed and abandoned, devoid of any signs of life. The available pekple only resided within certain areas connecting to the central part of the town. No one lived near the sea coast, as could be seen by the abandoned boats and ferries floating ominously near the shore. Pillars of smoke rose from certain homes.
On a closer look, Port Tabara looked like a town of war.
Penelope gasped at the sight.
"My, this is aweful." She said from behind him.
"Makes you wonder how long it's been since this all started."
"We should be finding out from the minister soon enough." Kion reassured, as they continued down the path to the bustling central city.
Up ahead, there was an abrupt bend in the road that had a cleared space by the side for merchants to hawk their goods on carts for passing travellers.
The spot was brimming with people of many races: orcs, birdpeople, even some mermen from the sea. In the midst of the chaos, Kion spotted a wiry boy that looked just about his age, slipping his fingers from the pockets of a huge old orc that seemed to be nearing his end.
Kion watched as a golden piece of jewelry had transferred from the orc to the boy in a matter of seconds.
"Where's my…" the old orc said as he patted around his body for his coin.
"You must have dropped it somewhere. Go check the other stall where you came from. It must have slipped out when you were not looking." The elf boy said with a cheeky grin.
"Good idea." The orc said, as he frantically hobbled towards another section of the roadside market.
"A pickpocket." Kai said as they all converged in on the elf's location.
He raised a brow.
"Humans." He commented. "You all must be from the capital, because I'll have you know that you're not the dominant species in these parts." His eyes darted to Gartium. "What are you doing with this crowd anyway? Got no elf friends?"
"You think I chose this?" Gartium protested.
"Blah blah." The elf boy cut him off. "Anyway, the name's Trinket, and to what do I owe this merry band the pleasure."
"We need you to take us to your master." Kai said, dropping the sealed paper on Trinket's table.
He picked it up and read through its contents.
"Mmhmm. So you're both princes of our kingdom, correct?"
"Precisely." Kai answered.
"Oh, so we still have rulers that remember this little seaside town. Rulers that come out of nowhere when we are at our breaking point!" Trinket said in a louder voice, and people turned towards them.
The elf boy had just attracted unwanted attention, and was well on his way to blowing their cover.
"Who do you think you—" Kai began to yell, but Kion stepped in.
"I'll take it from here, brother."
Kion faced Trinket.
"Listen," he began, voice calm but steady. "We didn't come here to argue. We're not here to parade titles or flash seals. We came because your people are in danger—and because no one in the capital has done anything about it. We're here to change that."
Trinket blinked, clearly not expecting the response. His smirk faltered for a heartbeat before sliding back into place.
"Big words for someone who still smells of perfume and polished boots," the elf muttered, folding the paper and tucking it into his vest. "But fine. I'll take you to Lord Fergio. Follow me, and try not to look so… important. People around here tend to get jumpy when royals show up."
He turned sharply, weaving through the crowd like smoke in the wind. Kion motioned for the others to follow, keeping his hood slightly drawn to avoid attention.
Meanwhile, Gartium rode closer, his intention obviously to tell Kion something.
"End of the road for you with us then." Kion could tell what he was about to say even before he said it.
"Yes. Don't tell me ya gonna miss me." Gartium teased.
"I will miss my infected blood that you're carrying around more than I would, you." Kion said with a coy look, and Gartium's expression soured.
"Want me to put it back in?" Gartium said as he threatened to take out something from his bag.
"Don't you dare." Kion snapped, and they both laughed.
"What is your business here in Port anyway?" Kion asked after a while.
"To see an old friend." Said Gartium. "I also have some unfinished things to attend to. After that, I'm leaving all the way back to Styria, or maybe Antilla, this time around. Not much places in Stormholt where you can just relax in retirement these days."
"I hear ya." Kion said. "Stay safe old friend. And you can have the panthenaire."
"Thank ya, lad. I will remember this."
"A deal's a deal afterall." Kion said as he watched the elf make a left into an alleyway, before vanishing from sight.
"You let him take our panthenaire." Kai asks when they were both out of earshot.
"Oh give him a break he saved your life, our lives." Kion cut in.
"Hmph." Kai continued on in silence.
The streets were thick with the scent of brine and burnt oil, and the closer they moved toward the heart of Port Tabara, the more evident its decay became.
Wooden beams jutted from collapsed rooftops. Stalls were half-burned, their owners still attempting to sell wares from under torn canvas sheets. Stray children darted between alleys, their faces pale and smudged with soot. There was a kind of quiet desperation that lingered in the air—life trying to go on despite ruin pressing in from every direction.
"This place looks worse up close," Penelope murmured under her breath.
"War leaves traces," Kion replied. "Even long after the fighting stops."
"Who said it stopped?" Trinket tossed back over his shoulder. "It's just quieter now. The Greitors attack mostly at night, when the tide's high. You can still hear them sometimes—screaming through the mist. Like they're calling out to whatever's left of their souls."
Penelope's eyes widened slightly. "Do you think they know they were once human?"
"Maybe they do, or don't I'm not sure," Trinket answered flatly. "But even if they did what would it matter? There's no coming back from this. No cure, no treatment, nothing. You just watch them lose themselves till they become merely shells of what they once were."
Trinket said with such emotion that only one thing could be safely assumed.
That he too, like so many others in this lonely town, had lost someone.
The group fell silent after that.
They continued on down winding paths partially blocked with debris, until Kion caught a glimpse of a pink streak. He looked closely this time, it was just a pink piece of cloth hanging from a townsperson's window.
Kion felt disappointment settle in his gut. Lila had promised to meet them at the entry point.
Where was she?
They passed a broken fountain covered in moss and ash. Trinket stopped briefly beside it, rubbing a streak of grime from the carved stone. The faint outline of the Stormholt crest could still be seen there, worn and faded.
"Your kingdom used to fund this port," Trinket said. "It was a place for trade, for festivals, for music. Now it's just a holding ground for soldiers too tired to keep fighting."
Kion didn't reply. He could only watch as the townspeople went about their lives—broken, quiet, yet still alive.
After another long stretch, they reached a tall stone building surrounded by rusted gates and cracked statues. The sign above the door was half-hanging, the words *"Minister's Hall"* barely legible.
Trinket turned to them. "End of the road for me. My master's inside. Don't say I didn't warn you—he's not fond of visitors."
Without waiting for a reply, the elf shoved his hands into his pockets and vanished back into the streets.
Kai stepped forward first. "I can already tell this will be pleasant," he muttered dryly.
Kion pushed the door open.
The hall was dimly lit by a few flickering oil lamps. Parchments were scattered across long tables, and at the far end sat a man with silver hair and a disheveled coat, hunched over a stack of maps. His left arm was wrapped in bandages, his right hand gripping a quill that trembled slightly as he wrote.
"Lord Fergio Di'capri, I presume?" Kion asked.
The man didn't look up right away. When he finally did, his expression was a mix of fatigue and disbelief.
"Yes that's me, and to what do I owe the pleasure? You two are the princes of Stormholt aren't you?"
"Yes we are." Kai spoke. "How did you know that?"
Lord Fergio smiled. "Well, other than the fancy entourage let's say someone told me we were expecting you."
"Who?" Kion asked.
"Me."
Kion's heart sank on the sight of those boots, those leather straps and cuffs, that silk frock.
And that pink hair.
So he had spotted her afterall.
"Hello, Kion." Lila said.