The council hall doors were shut.
That alone stopped people in their tracks.
Kael noticed it the moment he entered the central square. Normally, the doors stayed open from sunrise until nightfall. Elders liked to be seen. It reassured the people.
Today, two armed guards stood in front of the entrance.
They weren't relaxed. Their hands stayed close to their weapons. Their eyes moved constantly, scanning the square.
"That's not normal," Tavian said under his breath.
Lyra slowed beside Kael. "They don't close the hall unless something went wrong."
Kael studied the scene. Groups of villagers stood in quiet clusters. No one laughed. Conversations ended quickly when soldiers passed by. The air felt tight, like everyone was waiting for bad news.
"I was on patrol yesterday," Kael said. "If something happened near the sea, I should know."
He stepped forward.
One of the guards moved instantly, blocking his path.
"Council business," the guard said. "No entry."
"I'm military," Kael replied evenly. "I have a right to be informed."
"Not today," the guard said, his voice flat.
Kael held his gaze for a moment, then stepped back. Forcing his way in would only cause trouble—and it wouldn't get answers.
From inside the hall, raised voices leaked through the stone. Arguments. Sharp words. Anger.
Kael recognized one of the voices immediately.
"That's Ronas," Tavian whispered. "If he's arguing, this isn't small."
Lyra crossed her arms. "They're hiding something."
Kael nodded once. "Then we don't wait for them to tell us."
They left the square before anyone could stop them.
The lower archives were carved into the cliffside below the council hall. Few people came here unless ordered. Fewer still cared what was stored inside.
Tavian pushed the heavy door open. The hinges groaned loudly.
Dust filled the air. The smell of old stone and ink lingered. Narrow vents in the ceiling let in thin strips of light.
Shelves lined the walls, stacked with scrolls, ledgers, and stone tablets. Tavian moved through them quickly, fingers trailing across markings.
"Military logs," he muttered. "Sea patrol reports. Emergency responses."
Kael stayed near the door, listening for footsteps.
Tavian pulled out a dark-bound ledger and flipped through it. His expression tightened.
"Found something," he said.
Kael joined him at the table.
The pages were filled with maps and diagrams—sea routes, patrol zones, and marked coordinates. Dates were written carefully along the margins.
"These incidents," Tavian said, pointing, "didn't start recently."
Kael frowned. "How far back?"
"Decades," Tavian replied. "Possibly longer. They're scattered, but there's a pattern."
Kael leaned closer. "What kind of pattern?"
"Every spike lines up with increased activity on the island," Tavian said. "Large training periods. Island-wide drills. Moments when a lot of power was being used at once."
"That shouldn't affect the sea," Kael said.
"It shouldn't," Tavian agreed. "Unless the sea isn't reacting on its own."
Kael straightened slowly. "You think someone is controlling it."
Before Tavian could answer, the archive door creaked open.
Kael turned sharply.
Ronas stepped inside.
His eyes went straight to the open ledger.
"So," Ronas said calmly, "you found it."
Tavian swallowed. "We needed to know."
Ronas walked forward and closed the book with one hand.
"You weren't meant to see that yet," he said.
Kael stepped closer. "Then tell us."
Ronas studied him for a long moment. His jaw tightened.
"The creatures near the island," Ronas said, "aren't natural."
Kael felt a chill move through him. "Explain."
"They don't migrate," Ronas replied. "They don't multiply. They appear exactly where resistance is needed."
Tavian's eyes widened. "That means—"
"It means the sea is being used," Ronas said.
Kael clenched his fists. "Used by who?"
Ronas hesitated.
"Not by islanders," he said finally.
Kael exhaled slowly. "Then the elders know."
"Yes," Ronas said. "And they're afraid of what happens if the people learn the truth."
A sharp horn sounded outside.
Short. Sudden. Wrong.
Ronas stiffened. "That's not one of ours."
They ran.
The courtyard was already packed when they arrived.
Soldiers formed uneven lines, weapons drawn but not raised. Elders stood together near the platform, their faces tight.
At the far end of the courtyard stood figures Kael had never seen before.
Their armor was dark and smooth, shaped differently from island gear. Symbols were etched into the metal, unfamiliar and sharp. They moved with discipline, not hesitation.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Outsiders?"
"From beyond the sea?"
"How did they get here?"
One of the figures stepped forward.
"We are here to observe," the voice said, amplified by something unseen. "Recent activity has drawn attention."
An elder shouted back, "You have no right to be here."
The figure didn't react. "This location has been flagged as a potential risk."
The word risk hit the square like a stone.
"By whose authority?" another elder demanded.
"By necessity," the outsider replied calmly.
Arguments broke out immediately. Elders spoke over one another. Soldiers shifted, uncertain whether to advance or hold position.
The outsiders didn't move.
They waited.
Finally, the eldest elder raised his hand.
"We will speak privately," he said.
The outsider inclined their head slightly.
As they turned toward the council hall, Kael felt something strange.
One of them looked directly at him.
Not with curiosity.
With evaluation.
The doors closed again.
Silence spread through the courtyard.
Tavian let out a slow breath. "That wasn't a visit."
Lyra's voice was tight. "They came because they were already watching."
Kael stared at the closed doors. "And now they've confirmed what they needed."
That night, training intensified.
No announcements were made. No explanations given. Orders were simply issued.
Longer drills. Harder sparring. No pauses.
Kael moved from one match to the next, sweat soaking his clothes. Steel rang again and again.
"Faster!" an instructor barked.
Kael adjusted his footing and struck. His opponent barely blocked in time.
Again.
Again.
His arms burned. His chest felt tight. A dull pressure built behind his eyes, but he ignored it.
"Don't slow down!" the instructor shouted.
Kael didn't.
By the time training ended, his hands trembled from exhaustion. He sat on the stone steps outside the barracks, breathing hard.
Tavian dropped beside him. "You're going to collapse if you keep this up."
"So will everyone else," Kael replied.
Lyra stood nearby, watching the sea. "They're preparing us."
"For what?" Tavian asked.
Kael followed her gaze. The water was calm.
Too calm.
"Whatever's coming," Kael said, "they think we won't be able to avoid it."
Far beyond the horizon, instruments adjusted their focus.
Readings confirmed.
Patterns matched.
Observation continued.
The island had been marked.
And something patient was waiting to see what it would do next.