Chapter 10 : Shadows Over Maltoon
The fog around Maltoon crept like a living thing.
It slithered between masts and curled around ropes, turning the sea into a silver void. The merchant ship moved slowly, cutting through the mist as if afraid to wake something older than time.
Mikael stood at the bow, staring into the nothingness. He gripped the strange black object that fell from the sky in the last chapter—some artifact from Earth. It hadn't done anything since, but he kept checking it like a paranoid pigeon with treasure.
Sayra leaned beside him, arms crossed.
"You keep poking it," she said. "Expecting it to start singing?"
"Maybe," Mikael muttered. "Or explode. At this point, either would be nice."
She rolled her eyes. "You really are hopeless."
He smirked. "You really are watching me a lot."
Sayra turned away. "Don't flatter yourself."
---
Below deck, Sayra's father studied a map under a flickering lantern. His once-golden rings were now dulled with sea salt and stress. The man who looked like a noble merchant carried a weight Mikael couldn't name.
"You're sure he's still in Maltoon?" Mikael asked, leaning in.
Sayra's father didn't look up. "He waits. He always waits. But whether he welcomes us…"
He paused.
"…that depends on the kind of world you want to build."
"Is this visionary of yours a pirate?"
"No. Worse," he said. "He's a man with ideas. Dangerous ones."
---
Hours later, the ship neared the outer harbor of Maltoon. Dockworkers didn't greet them. No horns. No voices.
Just quiet.
Mikael scanned the town through the fog. A few buildings still smoldered. Signs of recent fighting. Sayra's expression darkened.
"This wasn't part of the plan," she whispered.
Then—
A second ship approached.
Small, sleek. Black sails. No flag.
Sayra saw the crest carved into the hull—two snakes coiled around a dagger.
"…my uncle," she said. Her voice wasn't afraid. It was cold.
Mikael tilted his head. "You have an evil uncle? That explains a lot."
She didn't reply.
Sayra's father burst up from below deck. "Everyone inside. Now."
---
Inside the captain's cabin, the mood was grim.
Sayra's father finally spoke. "That ship belongs to my brother. The man who tried to kill me. The one who believes in power through fear, not truth."
Sayra clenched her fists. "He came for me."
Mikael: "Dramatic family reunions are becoming a theme."
Sayra's father gave Mikael a tired look. "If he sets foot on this ship, he will not leave without blood."
---
As the enemy ship docked beside theirs, only one man stepped out.
Dressed in black, tall, sharp-eyed. His smile could've cut stone.
Sayra's uncle.
He walked the plank as if it belonged to him, and didn't stop until he was nearly face to face with Sayra's father.
"You always liked theatrics," the uncle said. "I prefer results."
"Leave," said Sayra's father. "Now."
The uncle smirked. "And miss seeing my dear niece?" He glanced at Sayra. "She's grown. And still wearing that same pathetic scowl."
Sayra: "Better than your fake smile, coward."
He laughed. "Ah. There she is."
He took a step forward.
"Hand her over. We'll say you died with dignity."
Sayra's father moved in front of her.
So did Mikael.
He didn't speak. Just stared at the uncle, quietly.
Sayra: "…What are you doing?"
Mikael shrugged. "I have a bad habit of standing between stupid men and women with swords."
The uncle raised an eyebrow. "And who are you, boy?"
Mikael: "Just the guy who fell from the sky. Wrong day. Wrong ship."
---
Tension rose.
Sayra drew her blade. Mikael, too.
Sayra's father held out his arm. "Don't. That's what he wants."
The uncle smirked wider. "You never learn. This time, brother… there will be no running."
And then—
A single crossbow bolt shot through the fog.
It hit the mast behind Mikael.
A warning.
The uncle looked up and smiled.
> "Looks like your little rebellion attracted more than me."
> "The Black Knights… are here."
---
[TO BE CONTINUED]