The ship creaked against the dock as the crew stepped onto the stone-paved landing. A mix of salt and spice filled the air — the scent of trade and sweat and everything alive.

  This was Bridgehaven, the city that linked the continents. A giant of the sea, crowded with noise, commerce, and whispering eyes.

  And today, those whispers were for them.

  “That’s them,” someone muttered from a market stall.

  “The desert crew.”

  “I heard the jungle one took down a sand beast with no weapon.”

  “Is it true the dark-haired one’s an assassin?”

  “...and the tall girl with the blade? Royalty from some fallen house, right?”

  The crew walked in a loose line. Thessia adjusted her coat like she didn’t hear them. Neyxa rolled her eyes. Ko Mala stayed close behind, ever the watchful gorilla.

  Rell walked a few paces ahead. He said nothing.

  They passed row after row of vendors, mercenaries, kids with wooden swords pretending to duel in the street. Life was loud here — loud and full. And yet…

  Something about it felt off to Rell.

  He stopped walking, letting the others continue without him.

  The sound of an argument cut through the background noise.

  A man shouting. Another voice — sharp, female, full of fire.

  Rell turned the corner, slowly.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  A woman stood there, locked in a heated standoff with three men. Another man beside her tried to keep things calm, but the tension was rising fast. One of the aggressors stepped forward, hand raised like he was ready to strike.

  The man stepped in to block it — a strong, clean motion.

  Rell’s breath caught.

  Myla.

  Grinish.

  He didn’t move right away. His body didn’t let him.

  By the time the other men moved in on Grinish, Rell was already in motion.

  A blur.

  The first attacker went flying into a stack of crates with a grunt. The second barely turned before Rell’s elbow cracked into his jaw. The third tried to swing — too slow. Rell caught his wrist, twisted, and dropped him in the dirt.

  Everything went still.

  Neyxa and Thessia came around the corner just in time to see the last man hit the ground.

  “What the hell—” Neyxa blinked.

  “Rell?” Thessia said, breath caught halfway between awe and concern.

  Rell didn’t answer.

  He stepped forward, slowly now, toward the couple.

  Eyes locked.

  Voice cracked.

  “Is... you two?”

  Grinish looked up, dazed, still holding his ground. “Thank you… who are you, stranger?”

  Myla’s eyes widened.

  She grabbed Grinish’s arm and whispered:

  “Dear… it’s… it’s the jungle boy!!”

  —

  Rell (thoughts): *“It can’t be… I thought they were dead.”*

  Rell (thoughts): *“But if they’re here… then that means Selena’s—?”*