The harbor town bustled with life despite the encroaching twilight. Sailors shouted orders, crates of fish and trade goods were hoisted onto ships, and gulls cried out overhead. Kael moved with purpose through the crowded streets, his cloak drawn tightly around his shoulders to shield himself from the salty breeze.

  His eyes scanned the cluttered notice board by the town square. Most of the requests were mundane—farmers needing help with pests, merchants seeking escorts for caravans—but one caught his attention. The parchment was damp and weathered, its edges curling from the sea air.

  The notice detailed the disappearances of several villagers from a small fishing island off the coast. It was vague on specifics but mentioned sightings of a strange creature lurking in the waters near the island. A crude sketch depicted a monstrous figure with a serpentine body, clawed fins, and eyes that glowed with eerie luminescence. The words “Reward for Proof of Resolution” were scrawled boldly at the bottom.

  Kael tore the notice from the board and tucked it into his satchel. His coin pouch was alarmingly light, and this task promised not only a challenge but hopefully enough Cilfa to keep him moving for a while longer.

  He made his way toward the docks, where fishermen were busy preparing their vessels for the next day's haul. Among them, he spotted a weathered man sitting on the edge of a small boat, mending a frayed net. The man had the look of someone who’d seen too many storms but survived them all—a steady hand and sharp eyes.

  Kael approached, his boots thudding softly against the damp planks. "You head to the fishing island?" he asked, his tone direct but calm.

  The fisherman looked up, his brow furrowing as he eyed Kael's imposing figure and the worn blade at his side. "Aye," he replied cautiously. "But I wasn’t planning to until the tide changes come morning."

  Kael reached into his pouch and withdrew a few Cilfa coins, holding them out. "How about right now," he said simply.

  The fisherman hesitated, glancing at the coins before nodding reluctantly. "Fine. But it’ll be a rough ride. Waters’ve been... uneasy." He pocketed the Cilfa and gestured for Kael to climb aboard.

  As Kael stepped onto the small boat, it rocked beneath his weight, the wood creaking in protest. He settled himself at the bow, his red eyes scanning the horizon where the island lay shrouded in mist. The sun dipped below the waves, casting the sea in hues of deep crimson and gold.

  The fisherman untied the moorings and pushed off, his movements practiced and efficient. The boat glided out of the harbor, leaving the safety of the bustling town behind.

  "That island’s cursed, you know," the fisherman muttered as he rowed, his voice low but heavy with meaning. "Strange things in the water. Folks vanish without a trace."

  Kael said nothing, his gaze fixed on the darkening horizon. The rhythmic splash of the oars and the soft lapping of waves against the boat were the only sounds for a time.

  The fisherman glanced at Kael again, curiosity evident in his eyes. "You don’t look like the type to scare easy, but I’ll say this—if it’s that creature they’re whispering about, it’ll take more than a blade to kill it."

  Kael’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his expression unchanging. "Good thing I brought more than a blade," he said, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

  The fisherman fell silent, his unease palpable as they drifted further into the open sea. The mist thickened, curling around the boat like ghostly tendrils. Somewhere in the distance, a mournful howl echoed across the water—a sound that was neither wind nor beast, but something in between.

  Kael’s grip tightened on his blade, his mind sharpening in preparation for whatever lay ahead. The island loomed closer, its jagged cliffs and shadowy outline.

  The boat bumped gently against the weathered docks, the creak of wood against wood breaking the eerie silence that hung over the island. The fisherman pulled his oars in and glanced toward Kael. "Welcome to Blacktide," he muttered, his voice low and cautious.

  Kael stood, the movement fluid despite the boat’s slight sway. He stepped onto the damp, salt-slick planks with practiced ease, his boots making a dull thud as they met the dock. The air here was thick, heavier than on the mainland, carrying with it a pungent mix of brine and decay.

  The fisherman hesitated, his weathered hands gripping the edge of his boat as if unsure whether to speak again. “Good luck to ya,” he began, but his words faltered when Kael turned slightly, the hood of his cloak shifting just enough for the man to catch a glimpse of his face.

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  The fisherman’s eyes widened as they locked onto Kael’s—two glowing, crimson orbs that burned like embers in the fading light. His breath hitched, and his weathered face paled. Without another word, he pushed off the dock with a desperate urgency, fumbling with his oars as he began to paddle back toward the mainland with frantic strokes.

  Kael stood silently, watching the fisherman’s retreating figure disappear into the mist. He let out a faint sigh, his expression unreadable beneath his hood. Gently shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the dirt path that wound its way up toward the village, its outline barely visible through the haze.

  The path ahead was lined with scraggly trees and overgrown shrubs, their twisted forms adding to the sense of foreboding that hung over the island. Kael adjusted the strap of his satchel, his fingers brushing against the hilt of his blade as he began to walk. Each step was measured, deliberate, the faint crunch of gravel beneath his boots the only sound accompanying him.

  The village of Blacktide awaited ahead, its fate intertwined with the creature that lurked in the waters surrounding this desolate place. For Kael, it was just another hunt—but for the villagers, it was their last chance for salvation.

  Kael strode into the heart of Blacktide, the village a somber sprawl of weathered shacks and rickety wooden structures built precariously close to the encroaching sea. The air was thick with the tang of salt and the stench of fish left too long in the sun, mingling with the ever-present undertone of decay.

  The few villagers he passed gave him wide berth, their eyes darting toward his hooded figure with barely concealed suspicion. Whispers trailed in his wake, hushed murmurs that ceased the moment he turned his head.

  A hunched old man sitting on a crate near the docks tightened his grip on a fishing net as Kael approached, his gnarled hands trembling slightly. "You seen who posted this?" Kael asked, his voice low and steady, holding out the crumpled notice with a faint rustle of parchment.

  The old man glanced at the notice but avoided meeting Kael’s gaze. “Don’t know,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the lapping waves. "Try on down the path, maybe." He quickly busied himself with his net, making it clear the conversation was over.

  Kael narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing, slipping the notice back into his satchel. He moved on, his boots crunching against the gravel paths that wound through the village.

  As he neared a small group of villagers unloading crates from a cart, he tried again. “Who placed this notice?” he asked, his tone clipped yet not unkind.

  The group froze, their murmured conversation dying instantly. A younger man with sunburnt skin and a nervous twitch in his eye stepped forward hesitantly. “M-Maybe old Brannen, the Harbormaster,” he stammered, glancing at his companions, who avoided his gaze. “He’s... He’s the one who usually handles these things.”

  “Where is he?” Kael asked.

  The young man pointed a trembling finger toward a larger building at the edge of the village, its structure slightly sturdier than the rest. “The harbormaster’s office. Just over there.”

  Kael nodded, offering no thanks, and turned toward the indicated building. As he walked away, the whispers resumed behind him, louder now and tinged with fear.

  “Did you see his eyes?” one of them hissed.

  “He’s not normal. What kind of man carries himself like that?”

  “Shouldn’t have told him anything.”

  Kael ignored them, focusing instead on the building ahead. It stood isolated, its windows fogged with grime and its door slightly ajar, swinging lazily in the cool sea breeze. He could feel the stares of the villagers boring into his back, their fear palpable.

  It didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to make friends. He was here to hunt.

  Kael stepped into the Harbormaster’s office, the faint creak of the wooden floorboards announcing his presence. The room was dimly lit, with a few scattered papers and nautical charts covering a cluttered desk at the center. Dust motes swirled lazily in the weak sunlight filtering through the grimy windows.

  The desk was unoccupied. He scanned the room briefly, then called out, his voice low but commanding. “Harbormaster?”

  For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Then, a feminine voice called back from a room beyond. “One moment!”

  A few seconds later, a woman stepped into view, brushing her hands against her apron as though she had been working on something. She was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, with striking green eyes that immediately drew attention. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, though it seemed hastily done, as stray strands of hair clung to her damp forehead. Her features weren’t extraordinary, but there was a natural charm about her, a quiet resilience etched into her expression.

  Her eyes flicked to Kael, and she froze for the briefest of moments, likely noting his height, his hood, or the sheer presence he carried. She cleared her throat, masking her unease. “The Harbormaster isn’t here at the moment,” she said, her voice steady but carrying an edge of nervousness. “He’s out at sea. Should be back before dusk.”

  Kael’s crimson gaze studied her for a moment, unreadable. “I’m here about the notice,” he said, producing the paper and holding it up briefly.

  The woman’s expression shifted, a flicker of worry crossing her face before she quickly composed herself. “You’ve come about... that,” she murmured, glancing toward the notice and then away. She hesitated, but when Kael said nothing further, she relented with a sigh. “I can tell you what I know, though it’s not much.”

  “Start talking,” Kael said, his tone even.

  She moved to lean against the desk, her fingers fidgeting slightly as she began. “It started a couple of months ago. Fishermen began disappearing near the smaller islands off the coast. At first, people thought it was storms or accidents, but then some of the bodies washed up... or parts of them.” Her voice wavered slightly at the memory. “They were torn apart. Like something big got to them.”

  Kael folded his arms and waited, letting her continue.

  “The survivors,” she went on, “the few that made it back, they all said the same thing. Something’s in the water. They described it as a creature—huge, with scales as dark as the depths. One man swore he saw claws like hooks and eyes that glowed under the moonlight. Others talked about something that could capsize boats with a single strike.” She shivered. “No one goes out to the deep anymore unless they have to.”

  “And this?” Kael held up the sketch from the notice, showing a vaguely humanoid creature with sharp fins and an elongated maw.

  The woman glanced at it, then nodded slowly. “That’s what people think it looks like. But no one’s seen it long enough to be sure. Those who have didn’t live to tell much more than that.”

  Kael lowered the paper, his gaze fixed on her. “The Harbormaster posted this?”

  She nodded again. “Yes. Brannen’s been trying to keep the village afloat—literally and figuratively. If the fishing stops, we all starve. He thought maybe... maybe someone like you could help. But most who come here leave once they hear the full story.”

  Kael didn’t respond immediately, his crimson eyes narrowing in thought. The woman shifted under his gaze, clearly unsettled by his presence but doing her best to maintain composure.

  “Where was it last seen?” he finally asked.

  She gestured toward the window, pointing out to the distant waters beyond the harbor. “Near the rocks west of the island. That’s where most of the disappearances happened. Brannen should have more details when he gets back.”

  Kael nodded slightly, stepping back toward the door. “I’ll wait.”

  The woman straightened, relief briefly flashing across her face. “You can wait here if you want,” she offered, though her tone betrayed her unease at the thought of his prolonged presence.

  He shook his head. “I’ll look around.”

  With that, Kael turned and exited the office, leaving the woman to exhale a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.