Faulted Desire

The sky drools crimson

As Estara and the others stepped onto the docks of Umarius, the air was thick with tension. The city was bustling despite the late hour, lanterns flickering in the night breeze. Merchants packed up their wares, sailors stumbled from taverns, and guards patrolled with wary eyes. Yet, something felt off. A hum of unease crackled through the port, an unspoken awareness that something was coming.

Hazen took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of brine, fish, and damp wood. "Alright, we need to move fast. We don’t know how long before those… things in the sky reach us."

Bianca adjusted the strap of her satchel. "We split up. Someone needs to get word to the city officials, and another to our families. Supplies need to be gathered, and we need a place to regroup."

Estara nodded. "Agreed. I will go to the palace and speak with my father. If the kingdom is to survive, we need a united front."

Idrealle clapped a hand on Hazen’s back. "Then we’ll handle the supplies. The city’s market will still have some merchants willing to sell this late."

"And I’ll find a safe house," Bianca added. "We can’t risk being separated when the sky falls."

April, still flustered from her tumble in the kitchen, crossed her arms. "And what about me? Someone needs to make sure the crew isn’t spooked. If they abandon ship, we lose our only means of escape."

Estara turned to Oshara, who still seemed dazed by what had just happened. The young vaponian’s hands trembled at her sides. "You should rest. Your power is awakening, and you will need your strength."

Oshara swallowed hard. "I… I think I need to see my family first."

Estara placed a reassuring hand on the child’s shoulder. "Then that is your first task. Go to them, and let them know you are safe."

With their plan set, they split up, vanishing into the winding streets of Umarius.

---

The Market District

Hazen and Idrealle weaved through the crowded streets, dodging drunken sailors and street vendors calling out last-minute deals.

"Spices! Fresh spices from the southern isles!"

"Jewels from the mines of Voreth! Fit for a king!"

"Meat pies! Still warm from the oven!"

Idrealle wrinkled his nose. "I always forget how much this place stinks."

Hazen smirked. "A mixture of desperation and profit." He stopped in front of a supply stall. "We’ll need dried food, water barrels, and medical supplies."

The merchant, a burly man with a missing ear, eyed them suspiciously. "Bit late for a shopping trip, lads."

Hazen leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "We’ll pay double if you don’t ask questions."

The merchant’s eyes gleamed with greed. "Now that’s a language I understand." He began filling sacks with provisions. "But word of advice? Something’s happening in the capital. People are whispering about shadows moving in the streets. Best get what you need and leave fast."

Hazen exchanged a glance with Idrealle. Shadows?

"Thanks for the warning," Idrealle muttered. They hurried off with their supplies, a sinking feeling growing in their stomachs.

Estara’s heart pounded as she approached the towering gates of the royal palace. The guards recognized her immediately, standing at attention.

"Your Highness!" One stepped forward. "We did not expect you back so soon."

"There is no time for formalities," Estara said. "I need to see my father now."

The guard hesitated. "The King is… preoccupied."

Estara narrowed her eyes. "With what?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably. "There have been… disturbances. He has been in meetings all day, but I will alert him of your arrival."

Estara sighed but nodded. "Make it quick."

As she waited, she noticed something strange—dark figures moving along the castle walls. They were fast, almost like shadows cast by the torches, but there was no one there to make them.

Her stomach twisted. Something is very wrong.

Bianca found a quiet corner of the city near the docks—a rundown inn with boarded-up windows and a sign that barely clung to its frame. She slipped a coin into the hands of the innkeeper, an old woman with milky eyes.

"No questions," Bianca whispered.

The woman cackled. "None asked, none answered."

The room she was given was small but sturdy. It would do. She took out a piece of parchment and scribbled a message for the others, leaving it at the front desk:

"Room 7. Come quickly."

She sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. The weight of what was coming settled heavily on her shoulders.

"We’re running out of time," she muttered.

By the time Estara was led into the grand chamber, her father was seated at the head of a long table, flanked by his advisors.

"Estara," King Varek said, surprise flashing in his eyes. "You should not be here."

"I had no choice," she said. "The sky is tearing open, Father. We saw the spirals ourselves. The kingdom is in danger."

The advisors exchanged nervous glances. The King sighed. "We know."

Estara’s breath caught. "Then why haven’t you taken action?"

One of the advisors, an older man with graying hair, spoke. "Because we do not know what we are up against. Reports are coming in from across the land. People are disappearing. Shadows are moving where there should be none. And in the capital…" He hesitated. "Creatures have been sighted."

Estara’s blood ran cold. "Creatures?"

The King’s face darkened. "We are facing something beyond our understanding, and we do not have the means to fight it—yet."

"Then let me help," she insisted.

"You will," the King said gravely. "But first, we must gather our allies."

As the group finally reunited at the safe house, the weight of their individual encounters settled over them. Each had seen signs of something bigger, something darker.

"Shadows," Hazen murmured. "Moving where they shouldn’t be."

"The King knows something," Estara said. "And he's preparing."

"And people are disappearing," Bianca added.

The room fell silent. The implications were clear—whatever was coming was already here.

Oshara, who had been quiet until now, spoke. "I felt something when I used my power. A pull. As if something in the water was watching."

Estara exhaled sharply. "Then we don’t have time to wait."

Bianca tightened her grip on her dagger. "Then we fight."

The city bells rang in the distance, a haunting sound that echoed through the night. A warning.

The storm had begun.