As the creaky wooden doors of the inn swung open, a warm wave of light and the scent of freshly baked bread rolled out to greet them. Rikuya stepped in alongside Solamar, brushing the dust from their travels off their sleeves. The inside of the inn was cozy—modest, but clean. Wooden beams lined the ceiling, and lanterns flickered on the walls, giving everything a soft golden hue.
"Welcome back, boss!" came a cheerful voice.
Behind the counter stood a woman in her forties with a welcoming smile and sharp, knowing eyes. Her chestnut hair was tied back in a neat bun, and her apron was dusted with flour—clearly, she'd just come from the kitchen. Her sleeves were rolled up as she wiped her hands with a cloth, then placed it aside and gave a small, respectful nod.
Two younger girls peeked out from a side doorway, both dressed in simple linen dresses common to Ardenwave townsfolk. One had short black hair and freckles, no older than seventeen, and carried a stack of clean towels. The other, with a braid over her shoulder and wide, curious eyes, looked about fifteen and held a basket of bread.
"They're my nieces," Solamar whispered with a fond smile. "Helping out for the season."
The inn felt lived in—not fancy, but alive with warmth and quiet bustle. The older woman, likely the innkeeper, stepped forward with a gentle tone. "Looks like the road's been rough on you two. I'll prepare a hot meal and set the upstairs room. And a bath too, I imagine?"
Rikuya gave a grateful nod, his expression softening just a bit at the normalcy of it all. After the chaos of the forest, the pirates, and the violence, this quiet place—filled with ordinary people and humble comforts—felt like a brief, healing breath.
Rikuya dropped his pack onto the floor of the small upstairs room, the scent of freshly laundered sheets and the faint salt of the ocean filling the space. He glanced out of the window, where the gentle waves lapped against the docks, their reflection shimmering under the glow of distant lanterns. The cool night air whispered through the cracks in the window, but the quiet felt peaceful—a rare sense of stillness he hadn't felt in some time.
The faint clatter of utensils and soft murmurs from downstairs broke his moment of calm, drawing his attention toward the warmth of the inn below. The aroma of roasted meat and herb stew wafted up to greet him, a reminder of the comforting simplicity of a good meal.
As he descended the wooden staircase, his boots tapping against the worn steps, the hum of conversation and the crackle of the hearth fire greeted him. In the corner, the older woman, Mara, stirred a pot with a wooden ladle, a pleasant scent of rosemary filling the room. The two teenage girls, Lena with the freckled cheeks and Myra with the wide, innocent eyes, moved about the room, setting the table.
Rikuya took a seat at the long wooden table, his eyes scanning the room as he silently observed. The warm glow of the firelight flickered across their faces, the sound of soft laughter and gentle conversation creating an unexpected tranquility.
Lena's eyes flicked nervously to him before quickly lowering to the table. Myra, on the other hand, watched Rikuya with a sense of curiosity, clearly intrigued by his presence.
Solamar was already seated at the head of the table, a wine cup in his hand, his boots kicked off and his expression full of quiet amusement. He greeted Rikuya with a slight nod, his voice low but warm. "Ah, Rikuya. This is a good place for a meal, wouldn't you say? A place with warmth, where a man can simply forget about the world outside for a while."
Rikuya smiled, easing into his chair. "I'll admit, it's a welcome change."
The meal began to flow in, rich with the smell of hearty stew and freshly baked bread. It was a simple meal, but comforting nonetheless, and for a moment, the chaotic world beyond the inn's walls felt far away.
But the peace didn't last long.
The door slammed open with an audible creak, and the room went still. Three pirates stood in the doorway, their clothing mismatched, leathers frayed and weathered from long travel. The pungent stench of cheap rum and sweat followed them in like a shadow, and their eyes were clouded with the arrogance that came from years of unchecked power.
The pirate at the front, tall and scarred, took a step forward, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Evenin', Mara," he drawled, tossing a small pouch of coins onto the counter with a metallic clink. "Tax day, innkeeper. Protection, you know how it goes."
Mara tensed, but her hands remained steady. She moved to collect the pouch without a word, her eyes hardening slightly.
The pirate grinned wider, eyes scanning the room like a predator searching for prey. When they landed on Lena, a sickening gleam appeared in his eyes. "Ah, and there's a fine little gem," he said, taking a slow step toward her. "That freckled one. She'd fetch a nice price down at the darker docks. We could make sure she's well taken care of before she leaves, if you catch my meaning."
His hand reached out, fingers brushing Lena's cheek with a leer.
Lena flinched, her eyes wide in terror, and her hands trembled as she froze in place, not daring to move.
Rikuya's eyes narrowed, and before anyone could react, his chair scraped sharply against the floor. He stood, his movements slow but deliberate. His presence cut through the tension in the room, as if he was a storm about to break.
The pirate didn't even notice him at first, too absorbed in his cruel intentions. But then, Rikuya's hand clamped down on his wrist in an instant, twisting it with a sickening crack. The pirate gasped in pain, dropping to his knees as Rikuya tightened his grip, forcing him to the floor.
Rikuya's voice was low, cold, and deadly. "You touch her again, and I'll break more than your arm."
The other two pirates reached for their swords, but the lethal confidence in Rikuya's stance stopped them in their tracks. He was the storm they never saw coming, his glare enough to freeze them where they stood.
"Real men protect women," Rikuya continued, his voice a calm fury. "Cowards play games with them. You're neither a man nor a real pirate. You're nothing more than vermin."
He gave the pirate's wrist another twist, the pressure forcing the man to cry out in pain. "Now, get out. All of you. You'll never step foot in this place again."
With a final shove, he threw the pirate to the ground. The other two pirates hesitated, but with a fearful glance at Rikuya's unflinching stare, they grabbed their fallen companion and scrambled out the door, leaving the inn with the sting of defeat in the air.
The door slammed shut behind them, and an uneasy silence followed.
Myra was the first to break it, her voice trembling. "Are you… are you really a warrior?"
Lena, still wide-eyed but no longer trembling, looked at Rikuya with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice small but full of emotion. "You saved me."
Rikuya sat back down, not bothering to make a big deal out of it. He picked up his bowl of stew, as if nothing had happened. "I don't like people who touch what doesn't belong to them."
Tsuki barked softly from the corner, tail wagging, as if to echo his words, proud of the man who had protected the innocent.
Solamar, who had been watching the entire exchange with a quiet amusement, took a sip from his wine cup and gave Rikuya a knowing look. "Well, that was one way to settle the rent, huh?" he said, the corners of his lips curling upward.
Mara, her hands still trembling, whispered a soft thank you. "You didn't have to do that, Rikuya... but I'm grateful."
Rikuya didn't answer immediately. Instead, he simply met her gaze, his expression steady. "Sometimes, the right thing to do isn't about whether you have to. It's about what you're willing to stand for."
A moment passed, and then Solamar added quietly, "Sometimes, that's the only thing that truly matters."
The fire crackled again, filling the room with warmth as the night settled back into its rhythm. The pirates were gone, and for now, peace had returned to the inn.
Rikuya took another bite of his stew, savoring the comfort of the food, but his mind was already racing, already focused on the journey ahead. For now, though, he allowed himself to simply be. To breathe. To exist.
The fire had faded into the background, and the evening's tension had dissipated, leaving behind a sense of calm. The pirates were long gone, and the warmth of the inn surrounded Rikuya like a comforting cloak. After the brief exchange, Lena and Myra, still full of gratitude, approached him with a sparkle in their eyes.
"You know, Rikuya," Lena began, her voice shy but growing more confident with every word, "if you have the time, we could show you around Ardenwave. It's not a big city, but it's full of life. There's plenty to see, and you can always use a guide, right?" She flashed a hopeful smile.
Myra nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm contagious. "We'll take you to the best spots! You'll see the real Ardenwave, not just the port!"
Rikuya's smile curled up, a rare but warm expression that softened the edges of his usually intense demeanor. "I'd like that. Lead the way."
The trio stepped out of the inn, and the cool night air brushed Rikuya's skin. The streets of Ardenwave were quiet but alive with the hum of distant voices and the soft clink of a cartwheel on cobblestones. The city, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns, felt like a living entity—warm, inviting, and full of untold stories.
Lena and Myra took him to the main street that wound its way through the heart of the city, lined with buildings of stone and wood, each one with its own character, from quaint little shops to cozy taverns. Lanterns hung from the posts like stars, casting a golden light over the cobblestones beneath their feet.
Lena pointed to a building to the left, its windows full of colorful fabrics and shining trinkets. "That's the merchant's hall," she said, her voice filled with pride. "They sell everything from exotic spices to rare gems. The owner's a bit grumpy, but his wife makes the best pastries in town. You should try them sometime!"
Rikuya glanced at the hall, noting its large wooden sign adorned with intricate carvings of ships and treasures, signaling the importance of the building. The aromas of baked goods and spices drifted in the air, mixing with the saltiness of the ocean breeze.
"Pastries sound good," he muttered with a faint smile, his eyes following the girls as they continued down the street.
Myra tugged at his sleeve and pointed toward a bustling square ahead. "And that's the Town Square! It's where the market is held every weekend. You can find anything there: fresh produce, handmade goods, even street performers. It's always busy, but there's something magical about it when the sun sets and the lanterns light up."
The Town Square was surrounded by stone buildings, with a wide, circular fountain at its center, water splashing softly into the basin. Rikuya's gaze swept over the square, taking in the vendors setting up their booths, the distant chatter of townsfolk, and the performers practicing in the corners. There was a vibrancy to the place, like it was always on the verge of something exciting happening.
"Looks like a lively spot," he remarked, impressed by the energy around him.
Lena, her freckled face glowing in the lantern light, grinned. "Oh, it is! And over there," she pointed across the square to a tall building with a broad wooden sign hanging above it, "that's the Steel Hammer Forge. Best blacksmith in the city. They can make anything, from a simple tool to a sword worthy of a king's guard."
Rikuya's eyes lingered on the forge. A small trail of smoke rose from the chimney, and he could hear the rhythmic clang of metal striking metal from within. His fingers instinctively flexed, the thought of a fine weapon striking a chord in him. He didn't need a sword, but a well-crafted weapon never hurt.
Myra chimed in excitedly. "They've even got an arena where they hold duels, training matches, and tournaments. You should see the craftsmanship of their weapons up close. Some of them even have unique abilities!" Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, clearly fascinated by the forge.
"Unique abilities, huh?" Rikuya said, his curiosity piqued. "Sounds interesting."
The girls led him further down the winding streets, and Rikuya couldn't help but notice how the city seemed to blend the old and the new—stone streets that had stood for centuries, yet vibrant with life, the mix of everyday hustle and quiet moments of beauty. Ardenwave wasn't the largest city, but there was a hidden depth to it—something that Rikuya could appreciate.
After a few more turns, they reached the port itself, where wooden ships bobbed gently in the moonlit water, their masts swaying with the rhythm of the ocean. Lanterns hung from the piers, casting reflections on the calm surface.
"Over here is the docks," Lena said, a soft tone in her voice. "We're known for our trade. Ships come and go all day. Some are even international—those sails you see? They come from far away, places we only hear about in stories."
Rikuya stood by the water's edge, gazing out at the horizon. The air was salty and fresh, the sound of the waves lapping gently against the docks like a lullaby. "It's peaceful here," he said quietly, his voice almost blending with the sounds of the night.
Myra smiled, nodding. "Yeah, but don't let the peacefulness fool you. Ardenwave has a lot of secrets. It's been through its share of storms."
Lena agreed. "It's not always sunshine and rainbows, but it's home."
Rikuya took one last look at the city, feeling a strange sense of belonging for the first time in a while. He was just passing through, but the warmth of Ardenwave, the kindness of the people, and the connection he had with these two girls made him feel like he could stay longer.
"Thank you for showing me around," he said, his voice sincere. "I didn't expect this."
Lena beamed, and Myra's eyes sparkled with pride. "We're happy you liked it," Lena said. "We'll always have a spot for you here, Rikuya."
With the city sprawled out before them, the trio walked along the docks, their voices soft and full of promise for tomorrow.