The Next Day – Oceankeep's Docks
The docks of Oceankeep bustled with activity in the crisp morning air. Sailors prepared to embark on their voyages, their boots clanking against the wooden piers as they loaded supplies onto their ships. Fishermen hauled in their early catches, while traders haggled over prices, their breath visible in the chilly dawn. The salty scent of the sea mingled with the aroma of fresh fish, and though the cold morning breeze nipped at their skin, the golden rays of the rising sun cast a comforting warmth over the harbor, filling it with renewed energy.
A lone figure draped in a fine black leather cloak strode towards one of the ships moored at the dock. The vessel was a sturdy two-masted schooner, its hull painted a deep blue, with sails neatly furled and awaiting the command to be unfurled. The man moved with an eerie stillness, his hood casting a shadow over his features. As he neared the ship, he approached a sailor who was hauling crates up the gangplank.
"Are you sailing south?" The man's voice was low, steady.
The sailor turned, gripping the crate tightly. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the cloaked figure. Something about the man—perhaps his gaunt face or the unsettling stillness in his posture—made him hesitate.
Before the sailor could answer, a hearty voice called out. "Aye, we are!" A man stepped forward, his stance confident and his expression welcoming. He was broad-shouldered, his sun-kissed skin marked by years at sea, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his face. "Captain Torric, at your service. We're bound for Brightgaze Port in Brightshores City. You looking for passage?"
The cloaked man gave a single nod. "I am. I'll pay if you take me with you."
Torric let out a booming laugh, slapping the side of the ship. "No need for that! It's a short trip along the coast—only a few hours. Hop aboard."
The captain then extended his hand. "And what should I call you, traveler?"
The man hesitated for the briefest moment before responding, "Ark. Just Ark."
With a nod, Torric gestured him aboard. The crew continued their preparations, hoisting crates, securing barrels, and untying the ship's moorings. Soon, with the final orders from the captain, the anchor was raised, and the schooner's twin sails unfurled, catching the wind as the ship glided away from the dock.
Ark found a quiet spot on the deck, settling against the railing. The ocean stretched endlessly before him, its surface calm and shimmering under the morning light. The wind tousled his long hair and beard as he absentmindedly stroked a purple ring on his left thumb, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Nearby, the sailors chatted as they worked. Their voices carried over the sound of waves lapping against the hull.
"Did you hear what happened this morning?" one sailor asked, lowering his voice.
"Eh? What now?" his companion replied, tightening a rope.
Ark listened without looking their way.
"Some poor soul found a gruesome sight in one of the alleys at dawn—three bodies, or what was left of them." The first sailor shuddered. "They say the ground was soaked in blood. Limbs severed, guts spilled out… a real mess."
The second sailor grimaced. "That can't be true."
"Aye, it is. And get this—only one head was found. The other two? Gone. Like they exploded or somethin'. Just bits of brains left behind."
The third sailor, who had been eavesdropping, let out a low whistle. "Damn. That's not the work of some drunk brawl."
The first sailor shook his head. "The authorities are looking into it. Thought maybe a beast wandered into town, but they found no tracks. One of the victims was a known thief. Part of a gang."
The second sailor exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. "So, whoever did this wasn't just killin' at random."
The conversation faded into hushed murmurs, but Ark remained motionless, his expression calm and unreadable. His fingers idly traced the ring on his thumb, a quiet rhythm against the endless expanse of the sea. The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and secrets, and as the ship drifted south, the sailors' chatter grew lively once more, gradually pushing aside the unsettling news that had shaken Oceankeep that morning.
***
After nearly four hours of sailing along the coastline, the ship neared its destination. Ark rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the distant waters where the traffic of ships thickened. Dozens upon dozens of vessels moved in and out of the harbor—some small and swift, others massive, built for trade and war alike. Among them, a colossal ship remained docked at an enormous pier, one that seemed to rise from the very depths of the sea.
"Welcome to Brightshores City," Captain Torric announced with a hearty laugh. "Or as many call it—the capital of the east. Is this your first time here, Ark?"
Ark responded with a simple nod. "Mhm. It is."
The captain grinned, crossing his arms as he watched the bustling port ahead. "In front of us is Brightgaze Port—the heart of the Brightmoon Empire's trade. Just like a heart pumps blood through the body, this place keeps the empire's economy thriving."
Pride tinged his voice as he spoke, detailing the grandeur of the port.
Brightgaze Port was immense, sprawling across an area large enough to be a city of its own. Built like a fortress, its towering walls stood high, reinforced by massive magical crystals embedded between their watchtowers—both a defensive barrier and a formidable deterrent against threats.
From above, the port resembled a vast, open eye. Its circular walls enclosed a section that extended over the sea, divided by five massive gates, allowing ships to flow in and out with ease. Countless docks and bridges stretched over the water, supported by earth magic that allowed them to be raised or lowered as needed. Smaller vessels navigated through seamlessly, while titanic ships were restricted from entering the enclosed waters. Instead, five enormous docks extended beyond the fortified walls, built specifically to accommodate them, forming a sight reminiscent of long, sweeping eyelashes.
At the heart of the port, a towering structure loomed—a monolithic tower rising 300 meters into the sky. The topmost section housed an enormous magical crystal that radiated light, serving as a lighthouse visible from afar. Yet, its function extended beyond mere navigation. The tower doubled as an observatory deck, an administrative hub overseeing the entire port, and an exclusive meeting place for high-ranking officials, influential merchants, and nobility.
The landward half of the port bustled with life, offering everything from lodging for workers to inns, markets, and food stalls selling an array of delicacies. The scent of fresh seafood filled the air, drawn from the massive fish market where business owners came to restock their supplies. Vendors auctioned their catches, offering everything from common small and large fish to even rare, magical sea beasts.
The port's distinctive design—fortress-like walls forming the edge of an open eye, outward-stretching docks resembling lashes, and a glowing crystal atop the central tower serving as a gleaming iris—had earned Brightgaze Port its name.
It was a sleepless city within a city, ever alive with movement, commerce, and ambition—an indispensable pillar of the empire's prosperity.
***
The harbor bustled with life, the scent of salt and brine mingling with the crisp sea breeze as Captain Torric's ship finally received clearance to dock. The heavy creak of wood and the clatter of chains filled the air as the vessel was maneuvered into place, its hull settling against the pier with a low groan. Sailors sprang into action, securing the moorings and preparing to disembark.
Ark stepped onto the deck and turned to face Captain Torric, his expression calm yet appreciative. "Thank you for the ride," he said.
The burly captain let out a hearty laugh, his sun-weathered face crinkling with amusement. "Bah! Think nothing of it, Ark," he said, waving off the gratitude.
Ark, however, was not one to let kindness go unrewarded. With a fluid motion, he produced a pouch of coins and extended it toward the captain. Torric hesitated, raising a brow. "What's this now?"
"A token of appreciation," Ark said simply. "Have a good meal with your men."
The captain scoffed, about to refuse, but Ark's unwavering gaze made it clear there would be no debate. With a reluctant sigh, Torric accepted the pouch, feeling its weight before tucking it away. "Fine, fine. But you're making me a little soft."
Ark smirked but said nothing, already turning to leave.
Behind him, Torric barked orders to his crew, his deep voice carrying over the din of the port. "Unload the cargo, then get yourselves a proper feast!"
A cheer erupted from the sailors, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they moved swiftly to unload the goods. As Torric supervised, curiosity got the better of him, and he loosened the drawstrings of the pouch. What he saw made his breath hitch—gold coins, a small fortune gleaming back at him. His eyes widened in disbelief, but by the time he looked up, Ark had already vanished into the crowd.
***
The port was a storm of motion, yet beneath the surface chaos was an intricate order. Workers hauled crates and barrels in synchronized efficiency, their movements honed by years of experience. Towering metal cranes, inscribed with glowing runes, lifted cargo effortlessly from ships, their magic-infused pulleys gliding with an otherworldly smoothness.
Massive beasts, some resembling oxen with shimmering, gem-like horns, pulled wagons laden with exotic goods, their handlers guiding them with soft-spoken incantations. Streams of enchanted water slithered through channels built into the docks, ferrying lighter parcels as if the tide itself was working alongside the laborers.
Amidst this symphony of motion, Ark strolled with measured steps, taking it all in.
Then, something caught his eye.
A boy—scrawny, no older than ten—moved through the throng, balancing a crate nearly twice his size on his thin shoulders. His short purple hair was damp with sweat, but his expression remained eerily composed. The crate he carried was no ordinary load; grown men with bulging muscles struggled to lift similar ones, their bodies straining under the weight. Yet, this child bore his burden with unnatural ease, his steps light and unwavering.
Ark's brows knitted together. This wasn't normal.
Glancing around, he expected to see others reacting to the anomaly, but no one seemed to care. The workers moved past the boy as if this was an everyday occurrence, their indifference suggesting they had long grown accustomed to the sight.
A flicker of energy—subtle, yet distinct—brushed against Ark's senses.
His fingers twitched instinctively, and his gaze dropped to the purple ring adorning his thumb, its hue deepening as if responding to something unseen.
Narrowing his eyes, Ark turned his gaze to the horizon, the feeling gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. A sense of urgency gripped him.
Without another glance at the boy, he pivoted on his heel and strode off, his steps purposeful as he followed the pull of the energy fluctuation he sensed.