Dark vehicles rolled through the gates, their bodies seemingly carved from a single block of black obsidian.
Sunlight slid across their surfaces and vanished into the matte shell, briefly revealing faint lines beneath—patterns that glimmered for an instant before fading again.
Dust clung to the wheel guards and armored sides, yet the machines moved with quiet certainty. Each carried six wheels, barely disturbing the broken road beneath them.
An eye-like insignia was engraved across their frames—triangular thorns radiating from the outer iris, its pupil clawed inward.
They came to a stop.
A man stepped out, wearing a purple and grey matte combat suit marked with the same insignia.
"What is your business here?" one of the wall guards asked.
"Our business is with Dorvel's chief. Notify him—notify him that an envoy from Solax is here to speak with him."
He paused.
"After that, you will accompany me to the messenger guild."
The guard didn't reply immediately.
He looked around at the five vehicles.
This didn't feel like a routine visit.
A bad feeling settled in his chest.
He turned and went up into the wall watchtower.
Moments later, he came back down—this time with someone following him.
The second man left shortly after, heading into town.
"You'll have to leave those behind," the guard said.
He gestured to the handgun at the soldier's hip and the rifle strapped across his back.
The weapon's frame was smooth and dark, broken only by subtle seams where components met. Its short barrel stood out under the light.
The soldier removed the magazine and handed the weapon over.
The guard placed the weapon inside the tower.
"Follow me."
The man in purple walked behind him, observing the town.
Neither spoke.
They moved through the streets in silence.
People froze as they passed.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the messenger guild.
The guard opened the door slowly.
The smell of ink and paper filled the air.
The moment he entered with the soldier, the sounds of conversation and the clicking of various contraptions stopped almost simultaneously.
"Where's Lior?" the guard asked.
"In his office. I'll get him."
A woman hurried off.
Shortly afterward, she returned with Lior in tow.
Kalen followed behind them, having already been inside the office.
"I heard you wanted to see me," Lior said.
"Did the person called Faelan return?"
Kalen's brows furrowed at the question.
"No, he didn't," Lior replied.
The soldier looked around the room before returning his gaze to Lior.
"The messengers and those affiliated with them will have three hours to vacate Dorvel. Those unable to do so will be treated the same as the rest of the citizens."
"And how will the rest of the citizens be treated?" Lior asked, his voice stern.
"You were given due notice."
The soldier turned toward the door.
"We have deniability. I suggest you leave."
With that, he walked out of the building.
The guard remained in disbelief at the words that had come out of the soldier's mouth.
It wasn't a warning.
It was a blatant threat.
But why?
The guard thought to himself.
A threat against the whole of Dorvel, yet he said it so casually.
His light brown eyes swept across the room.
They all looked to him, expecting answers he didn't have.
"You heard him," Lior broke the silence.
"Get everything you can carry. Those with families, inform them."
His expression hardened.
"I'm not overly curious to find out what they intend to do with the citizens."
"What?"
"Why are we listening to the soldier?"
"They can't just tell us what to do!"
The questions came in a blur of overlapping voices.
A knot formed in Kalen's gut.
"You're all right," Lior spoke up.
The room gradually quieted.
"They have no right."
He paused.
"That's exactly why I'm saying it."
His gaze swept over the gathered messengers.
"It would be best for everyone if we leave now."
Then he turned to the guard still standing by the doorway and gave a small nod.
The guard left without a word.
"Come with me, Kalen," Lior said as he signaled another to accompany them into his office.
***
"Kalen's been gone a while," Faelan remarked after changing clothes.
He now wore a dark brown inner shirt, a loose black jacket over it, and loose-fitting dark gray patched jeans.
His scarf still hung around his neck.
"Any idea why he's taking so long?"
"It's probably because nothing serious has happened, so there's no need for him to come down here."
He glanced at Ria.
"The clothes look good. A bit large, though."
Ria ignored him completely, focused on trying to pet Niri.
The tacarrox hissed and kept dodging her hands.
"Sorry. I didn't have any women's clothing."
Ria paid it no mind.
"I should probably get ready."
Jarek stood up, staggering slightly.
"Seems like I had too much."
He chuckled and walked over to a box, pulling out bags with two straps each.
Then he began packing them.
"Are you going somewhere?" Faelan asked.
"I don't think so. But I feel like I should have this ready."
He paused.
"Me and Solax soldiers don't really... mix."
Unfortunately, Faelan could relate.
Jarek finished packing the bags, then added several pouches that clinked softly as they settled into place.
He headed toward the vehicle in the corner and pulled away the cloth covering it.
It was little more than a reinforced frame wrapped around four oversized wheels.
Dark plates covered the hood and canopy.
Small tool racks sat near the rear.
There were no windows to speak of, only a windshield and its rear counterpart stretching nearly to the edges of the vehicle.
A spare tire was mounted on the back.
Jarek loaded the bags into the space behind the rear seats.
"This is new," Faelan said as he moved closer.
"Not that new, actually. You just haven't seen it before," Jarek replied.
"How'd you get it? Vehicles cost a lot."
Despite knowing Jarek for over a year, Faelan didn't really know what he did for a living, or if he actually worked at all.
"This is basically just a bunch of scrap screwed together. Calling it a vehicle is a stretch."
Jarek smiled and opened the driver's door.
"What do you know about driving?"
"Nothing at all."
Faelan climbed into the driver's seat.
Jarek had a habit of avoiding that particular conversation, and Faelan didn't pry.
"All you have to do is put the ignition key in the slot, turn the dial to drive, and press the right pedal."
He guided Faelan's hands onto the crescent-shaped steering wheel.
"Then you should just feel the rest from there."
The wheel was cold, even beneath the thin leather wrapping.
"This is probably one of those things that's harder when you actually do it."
"Maybe."
Something caught Jarek's eye.
"What is that?"
He grabbed Faelan's hand, examining the dark purple scales that had melded into his knuckles.
Jarek could feel the edges beneath his fingers.
"Oh... I don't really know how it happened," Faelan replied.
Jarek didn't seem convinced, but he left it at that.
KCHEEAAANG
Their heads snapped toward the counter.
Several bottles rolled across the surface before tumbling to the floor.
Ria stood nearby, looking sheepish, as though she had absolutely nothing to do with it.
Jarek noticed a pair of blue-gray eyes floating above the canopy.
They dropped onto the hood.
Fur, stripes, and bristling limbs slowly filled the empty space beneath them until Niri was visible once more, curled into a ball.
"Sorry about that," Faelan apologized.
"Don't worry about it. They were empty bottles."
Jarek waved it off.
He gave Niri a quick pat before heading to a box on the other side of the room.
She really dislikes Ria, huh?
Faelan glanced between the two.
Jarek returned carrying a book.
"Here."
He handed it to Faelan.
"What's this?" Faelan asked.
"It's my journal. Volume three."
Jarek nodded toward the book.
"It should have information on a few general things."
"What about the first two? And why are you giving me this?"
"The first two are indisposed at the moment."
Jarek's expression remained unreadable.
"And I'm about to step out. There's something I think I want to do."
He paused.
"If I'm not back within an hour, the two of you should go on ahead."
He gestured toward the wall behind the vehicle.
A large door was built into it.
"Follow the tunnel east until you reach Veictrid Harbor."
He pointed to the journal.
"There's information about it in there."
"Alright," Faelan replied, still unsure of the situation.
Jarek moved to the staircase then turned back,"I almost forgot, they're real, guess you weren't chasing a ghost after all,"
"What do you mean?"
"Raja87" Faelan froze as the words left Jarek's lips.
Ria looked between them puzzled.
"I don't know much other than that, though."
He opened the door.
"I'll be off now." he said finally before he left
Faelan's expression had a mix of shock,confusion and relief. His hand trailed into his jacket gripping the wooden box within it.
***
The Chief of Dorvel arrived at the gate after hearing of the envoy's arrival.
Only two vehicles remained.
The guard told me there were five of them, he thought.
He was a stout man in his early fifties with a receding hairline. His hair and moustache were black, matching his small dark-brown eyes.
He scanned the area.
One of the wall guards signaled him.
The chief approached.
"Where is this envoy?"
"Inside."
The guard gestured for him to follow.
They entered a room lit by sunlight streaming through the windows.
Two soldiers stood at opposite corners.
At a large table sat two women.
The first appeared to be in her late twenties. Snow-white hair cascaded to her waist, and bright frost-blue eyes fixed themselves on the chief.
"You took your sweet time, didn't you, Chief Ibhrax?"
"Unlike you lot, we at Dorvel don't have the luxury of fancy transport, Ms. Acrantha."
He sat in the lone chair opposite them.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Acrantha's eyes drifted toward the wall guard by the doorway before returning to the chief.
Ibhrax noticed the look and gestured for the guard to leave.
He did.
"You may have heard that a messenger from this very town has become a wanted criminal in Solax. But that's not why we're here."
Acrantha tilted her head slightly.
"Tell me if I'm wrong, but he was supposed to carry a piece of an Azryx ship, right?"
"That's right."
"Good. What happened to the rest of it?"
"There was no rest of it."
Acrantha's brows furrowed.
"Don't lie to me. I'd rather this remain civil. The piece you sent was removed rather cleanly. It was in surprisingly good condition, meaning you didn't just have someone skilled enough to remove it—you also had something substantial enough to remove it from."
She leaned forward slightly.
"I'll ask again. Where's the rest of the ship?"
"I understand why you'd think that, but I'm sure even you know we don't have anyone that skilled here. We found it on a dead body out in the savannah. There was nothing else. That's it."
"Commendable. You're a good liar… or perhaps it's the truth."
"It is."
"Do you gamble, Chief Ibhrax?"
"Someone of my age has no interest in such things."
"That's not a no. I'll assume you did when you were younger."
"I… did."
"Good."
A faint smile touched her expression.
"Then let's make a wager."
"If you can answer two out of three questions truthfully, you win. We'll leave—and even provide you with a fancy transport."
Her tone sharpened.
"But if I win… you acknowledge breach of agreement, and that our actions violate no treaty. It's not a request. I expect you to agree."
The chief was silent for a moment.
His expression was unreadable.
Then he gave a slow nod.
"This here is Iodi."
Acrantha gestured to the teenage girl sitting beside her.
She had dark hair with a faint green tint, glassy red eyes, and wore a simple gown. Metal cuffs encircled her wrists, and the number 9049 was tattooed along her neck.
"You see, she can tell when someone is lying. Amongst other things."
Acrantha guided the girl's hands onto the table.
The soldiers at the corners immediately became more alert.
Iodi's face remained expressionless.
"Take her hand."
The chief did as he was told.
"How long did you sit on this before sending it?"
"A week."
"Where is the body you claimed to have found?"
His breath hitched.
"We left it where we found it."
"Name everyone you know who has information regarding this matter and explain how they are connected to it."
Acrantha's gaze remained fixed on him.
"Leaving anything out counts as a lie."
The chief opened his mouth, but no words came out at first.
Iodi's grip tightened around his hand.
"I don't know everyone."
"Is that really your answer?"
"..."
"Iodi."
Acrantha turned to the girl.
"One truth. Two lies."
The girl's voice was low and firm as she continued holding his hand.
Ibhrax's eyes widened.
"You were close," Acrantha remarked.
She stood and held out a hand.
One of the guards immediately placed a stopwatch into it.
"Iodi, you can start in three... two... one."
Click.
"AAAH—"
The chief cried out.
His voice quickly dissolved into choking sounds.
His entire body convulsed.
Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth.
Click.
"Stop."
Acrantha stopped the timer at twenty-eight point three two seconds.
Iodi released him.
His head slammed onto the table.
"You still have a nasty touch. He'd better be alive."
"Y-Yes," Iodi stuttered.
"So, what was it?"
"They didn't find it on a dead body."
Iodi spoke as though she had witnessed the events herself.
"It was hidden away with enough parts to probably assemble a new ship. At least, that's what they believed."
"The chief sold it piece by piece through a smuggler named Jarek."
"He was the one who later brought it to the chief's attention that it might be wise to curry favor with Solax."
"By then, only the keystone remained."
"The keystone was considered too valuable to sell."
Acrantha listened silently.
"Where can we find this... Jarek?"
"He didn't really know."
Iodi shook her head slightly.
"Jarek usually spent his time around town. Mostly bars."
Acrantha turned toward the guards.
"Find out whether we have anything on a smuggler by the name of Jarek."