The Sea Serpent slipped under the cover of night into a bustling port near the cannibal island, her crew exhausted but alert. The promise of fresh supplies and a brief rest was a welcome change. Once the ship dropped anchor, Jana scanned the harbor, noticing the blend of merchant vessels and warships. The air was thick with the scent of salt and fish, mixed with distant sounds of laughter and trade.

  Once the ship was secured, the crew scattered to gather provisions and feel solid ground after so many days of constant rocking at sea. Jana, however, had another mission in mind. She ventured into the winding streets until she reached a brothel, its sign swaying gently in the evening breeze. Women were a common sight in such places, and she hoped to blend in among them.

  Jana wore a simple dress, the layers of fabric falling to her ankles as she entered the brothel. The interior was alive, filled with sailors, merchants, and locals exchanging far more than stories and gossip. Jana slipped in with uncertain steps, letting her eyes adjust to the smoky atmosphere.

  She found a seat near a group of men deep in conversation, listening closely while blending in with the workers, when a small but firm hand gripped her arm.

  —You're new, aren’t you? —asked a female voice beside her.

  Jana didn’t have time to answer; the girl was already dragging her quickly to the back of the establishment. Surprised, Jana glanced at her, not understanding what was happening.

  —Don’t look at me like that —the girl said with a nervous smile as she pulled her along—. It's obvious by how many clothes you're wearing. Come with me before the madam sees you. My first day here was just like this, and I’d have loved someone to do me this favor.

  She turned slightly to offer a warm smile as they moved down the corridor.

  —I'm Mary, by the way. Nice to meet you. And you?

  Jana stayed silent for a few seconds, observing the chatty young woman almost dragging her along. Finally, she answered in a dry voice:

  —Jana.

  —Well, welcome, Jana. —Mary winked—. Since you haven’t been assigned a room yet, come to mine. I’ll get you ready and do your makeup before the night starts.

  The small room they entered was dimly lit by a single candle. Mary began rummaging through fabrics and bottles as she spoke nonstop. Jana, without protest, allowed the girl to remove some of her outer garments. Her shoulders and collarbone were exposed, and the brown layers covering her corset revealed the tight shape underneath.

  She hadn’t planned on going this far, but since the girl had offered to disguise her, she couldn’t refuse such unexpected kindness. Mary worked quickly, applying powder to Jana’s face and a red lipstick that extended beyond her lips. When she was done, she stepped back to admire her work.

  Getting into character, Jana grabbed the girl’s hands enthusiastically and, with a nearly shrill voice and a heavy peasant accent, exclaimed:

  —Thank you so much, Mary! I don’t know what I’d have done tonight without you.

  Mary gave a short laugh as she opened the door.

  —The madam would probably have given you the worst, nastiest client in the place. —She winked as they both stepped into the dark hallway connecting to the brothel’s inner quarters. The murmur of voices and the sound of mugs hitting tables grew clearer as they approached the main hall. Jana stayed on the edges, blending into the shadows as Mary slipped away to her post.

  At one of the tables, a deep voice cut through the ambient noise:

  —Tell me, haven’t you been to Valtoria recently? —asked a thick-bearded man with a curious tone, his words slurred by wine—. Is it true what they whisper, that demons are escaping straight from hell?

  The merchant addressed raised his mug and took a long drink before responding with a tone full of self-importance:

  —Ah, yes, my friend… the hunts for those beings are on the rise in those lands.

  —Spit it out already, man! —interrupted another at the table, who until then had been absorbed by the woman on his lap.

  The merchant slammed his mug onto the table.

  —Here it goes. I don’t know much about where they come from, but someone I trust completely swears he spoke with one of them. And he claims they come from lands so far away, they don’t even appear on our maps. They say they can deceive the human mind and that their feats are not magic, but something they call… science.

  The men at the table burst into laughter almost in unison.

  —Science? —laughed one, slamming his fist on the table—. Isn’t that the fancy name corpse defilers give to their witchcraft? The same ones who promise to heal people by wounding them worse than before?

  From a nearby table, a coarse voice interrupted the chorus of laughter:

  —Ignorant fools! That’s called surgery. And thanks to those “asses,” as you say, my sister is still alive today.

  Tension flared like ignited powder. A friend of the merchant stood up suddenly, hand on his belt and mug in the other, swaying with a face flushed from drink.

  —Great! One more whore to fuck in this world, such wonderful arts! —he sneered.

  The whole brothel erupted in laughter, but the man from the other table didn’t stay still. He knocked his chair back and stormed toward him. Within seconds, the first slap echoed through the hall, followed by a crash of mugs and colliding bodies.

  A tavern brawl had begun. Women screamed in alarm, stepping aside as tables toppled one after another. Jana, lost in thought, couldn’t shake the merchant’s words from her mind: Men from distant lands who appear suddenly… who claim to use science, not magic. Too many coincidences with the Timekeepers to ignore—but tavern rumors weren’t enough. She needed real proof before returning to the Sea Serpent and changing course.

  Through the noise and chaos, a silhouette appeared in the doorway. An older woman, surprisingly dignified for such a place, walked in slowly with a fan in hand. The workers immediately fell silent and lowered their eyes in fear.

  —The madam… —the girls whispered almost in unison.

  —Gentlemen… —said the woman in a firm voice as she opened the fan like a ceremonial blade—. Look what you’ve done to my poor angels. Surely you don’t want their beauty ruined by your squabble, do you?

  For a few seconds, both men froze, panting and glaring at each other. But the silence didn’t last. As soon as the madam finished speaking, they lunged at each other again with renewed fury.

  The fan snapped shut, its crack echoing like a whip. The madam turned to the man behind the bar, who nodded silently. Moments later, the two fighters were grabbed by the collar and dragged into the street, where the brawl continued. Their shouts and punches still echoed inside as the brothel slowly returned to its tense calm.

  When calm gradually returned to the brothel, the merchant’s table roared with coarse laughter.

  —As always… there’s not a night this brute doesn’t stir up trouble —said one, giving a friendly slap on the back of the man who had started the fight.

  —One day he’ll get himself killed for it —added another between chuckles.

  —Shouldn’t we help him out? —asked a third, glancing toward the door where the brawlers had been thrown out.

  The merchant raised his mug as if passing judgment:

  —Wouldn’t be honorable to meddle in another man’s duel. If he’s chosen the brawl, let him finish it with steel or skin.

  The table erupted in laughter. Jana, realizing the conversation had strayed from what interested her, pressed her lips together and decided to step in.

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  She approached the table slowly, swaying her hips as she’d seen Mary do. When she arrived, she dipped her head slightly, letting the rough makeup and powder on her face do their work.

  —I heard your words earlier… —she said softly, letting a coy smile slip—. These men from faraway lands… sounds like a tale worth hearing.

  The merchant looked her up and down and, with a crooked grin, grabbed her by the waist, sitting her in his lap. His rough hand grazed her bare shoulders.

  —You’re new to this house… never seen you before, and I come here as often as I can —he murmured in a low voice.

  Jana let out a short laugh, feigning ease.

  —What can I say? The clients always want fresh meat.

  The men at the table laughed while the merchant, still gripping her waist, leaned closer.

  —We don’t usually hear such savory tales in this brothel… —Jana said with a playful smile, leaning toward him—. What say you, good sir, delight this poor soul?

  The merchant chuckled deeply and, tightening his grip a bit more, replied in a hoarse voice:

  —Isn’t that supposed to be your job, maiden?

  —My turn will come —Jana whispered with a sideways grin.

  The merchant chuckled under his breath, and seeing the anticipation on his companions’ faces, raised his hands in mock surrender:

  —Fine, fine… but you’ll have to make it up to me, girl.

  —You have my word —Jana replied, voice honeyed and eyes gleaming with feigned mischief.

  The merchant settled in and lowered his voice, prompting everyone to lean in.

  —They say even the finest blades in the realm have clashed with them… and not even unarmed do they fall. They’ve been seen shattering bones, paralyzing men without edge or arrow. What’s more curious is that few die.

  One of the men spat on the floor and muttered gravely:

  —Sounds like the devil himself. He can’t take souls with his hands, so he twists them in their own bodies.

  Another nodded with a frown, leaning over the table:

  —And you know what’s strangest? The few they’ve captured wore shackles no one’s been able to break. Some even chopped off their hands trying to remove them… and still, they held on.

  Hearing those words, Jana’s mind began to race.

  “Valtoria?” The name echoed in her memory. The mention of people with strange powers instantly made her think of the Timekeepers. She realized she couldn’t waste time: if she didn’t find the Orb, at least in Valtoria she might find part of her home… or of a past lost to oblivion.

  —You’re quite the listener —said the merchant with a crooked smile, reaching for her hand.

  —You’re quite the storyteller —Jana replied with a forced smile, gently pulling her hand away—. But I must go.

  The man gripped her arm tightly, his brow furrowed.

  —And where do you think you’re going, darling? The night’s still young.

  Jana tugged her arm, trying to break free while keeping her voice low and calm.

  —If you want more, you’ll have to pay more… I doubt you’d want to anger the madam.

  The merchant’s grip tightened, his face reddening.

  —Pay more? So you break your promise in front of everyone?

  —It’s nothing personal, sir —Jana replied, trying to ease the pressure on her wrist—. Just business, as you know.

  A man at the table burst out laughing and shouted:

  —That’s what you get for trusting a courtesan’s promise!

  The laughter sliced through the hall like knives. The merchant flushed with rage, unable to bear the public humiliation.

  —You’ll yield to me tonight… —he growled through his teeth— and if I must, in front of all these people. I’ll give you a choice, whore: here… or there.

  Jana’s expression hardened, her eyes cold as steel. She didn’t answer. Her silence only fueled his fury. He stood abruptly, knocking over the chair, and lifted her to slam her onto the table. Plates and mugs shattered on the floor. Amid some laughter and the workers’ screams, he grabbed her legs and began lifting her skirt.

  The icy blade of the dagger Jana kept hidden beneath her corset flashed in the dim light. A heartbeat later, the edge rested against the merchant’s throat.

  —Touch me again… and you won’t see the sunrise —Jana whispered, with a calm so cold it froze the air.

  The man’s eyes widened. For a second, no one in the brothel breathed. Then, he tried to force a smile, thinking he could still regain control.

  —You wouldn’t dare, whore…

  Jana pressed the blade slightly. A fine thread of blood trickled down his neck.

  —Try me.

  With a swift motion, Jana shoved him backward. The man crashed onto the floor, landing amidst broken food and spilled beer. The dagger still in her hand, her eyes slowly scanned the room full of stunned faces.

  Jana took a step back, lowered her skirt, and walked toward the door, leaving the merchant on the floor, trembling with rage and shame as the murmur of the tavern returned to the air.

  The walk back to the ship was nothing short of miserable. Unwanted advances, sweaty hands reaching from the shadows, and lewd whistles hounded her every step. Jana’s scowl deepened with each echoing footstep on the dock’s wood, curses muttered under her breath.

  The Sea Serpent was still anchored, and a couple of crewmates sat near some barrels, watching her pass by without recognition. Her dress, the poorly applied makeup, and her stiff posture didn’t help.

  —Why don’t you come keep us company, girl? —one of them shouted with a crooked smile.

  The other, holding a mug, added through laughter:

  —We’ll pay you well and… who knows! Maybe even give you a permanent spot on board.

  But as they saw the unknown woman heading straight for the ship and stepping onto the gangplank, both men scrambled to their feet, nearly tripping over their boots to greet her.

  The moment Jana set foot on deck, her expression was a portrait of barely contained fury—and the smirks on the two young men’s faces froze. The others turned to see what the commotion was about, and after a few stunned seconds… they burst into laughter.

  —Captain! —one called out between fits of laughter—. Have you changed professions without telling us?

  —I would’ve gladly escorted you, Captain… —even Liora, the ever-stoic healer, dared to joke. The rest of the crew gasped at her remark before breaking into a loud “Ooooooh!” like schoolchildren.

  Jana, in no mood to feed the circus, elbowed her way past them, striding firmly toward the helm, where Brannon was peeling an apple with his knife. Just as he brought a slice to his mouth, he saw her coming.

  —Cough, cough… —he choked—. What happened to you, Captain? Rough night?

  She shot him a glare that could kill.

  —Gather everyone.

  Minutes later, the entire crew stood assembled on deck. Some still chuckled under their breath, others whispered among themselves. The image of their captain dressed as a courtesan would fuel jokes for weeks.

  Jana crossed her arms, waited for silence, and spoke in a dry tone:

  —We set sail in three days for—

  Before she could announce their destination, murmurs rose again, jokes vanishing into tense whispers.

  —Weren’t we staying in port for ten days, Captain? —someone asked.

  —That’s not even enough time to load the barrels —another added.

  —And where exactly are we going? —a third voice asked.

  Jana raised her voice:

  —To Valtoria.

  The name hit like lead. Complaints and laughter ceased. The silence was so heavy, even the creaking sails could be heard.

  Thorne, the gunner, stepped forward.

  —Captain… I assume you’re aware of the war in Valtorian waters. Things with Drakoria have only gotten worse.

  —Didn’t you say you liked danger? —she replied without looking at him.

  —Liking it doesn’t mean we want to die.

  Jana took firm steps toward him.

  —Are you accusing me of putting my crew in danger?

  Her eyes burned. From the back, Brannon watched closely. That look… that fire… it was the same he’d once seen in the face of the previous captain. Jana was one step away from saying: “I’m your captain, and if I order you to die, you die.” But something—an ache she couldn’t name—stopped her. She couldn’t say it.

  She took a deep breath, swallowed her rage, and chose another route.

  —I have news about the Tear’s whereabouts —she said in a more measured tone—. Sources confirm it’s in Valtoria, in the hands of a merchant.

  Her shoulders dropped slightly, aware that this lie was the only way to justify the urgency. She couldn’t speak of the Timekeepers… so using the Tear as an excuse was the safest move.

  —And how reliable are these sources? —Elara challenged, arms crossed.

  Jana met her gaze, jaw clenched.

  —Reliable enough —she spat.

  Without another word, she turned on her heel.

  —Enjoy what time you have left —she added over her shoulder.

  She walked toward her cabin without looking back, leaving the crew in thick silence, each one processing what had just occurred.

  With the decision made, preparations began the next morning. The Sea Serpent adjusted its sails and set course for the war-ravaged kingdom. Jana stood firm at the helm, her eyes on the horizon and her mind filled with thoughts about the possible presence of Timekeepers. She even wondered if her brother might be among them. Oddly enough, she missed those stupid fight-picking jokes he always made—they’d become part of her daily routine back at the UOTC.

  As they neared Valtorian waters, they raised a white flag, signaling they meant no harm—just a ship passing through, seeking entrance into the kingdom. Jana hoped this gesture of peace would be understood. But with every mile they advanced, the air thickened, tension mounting. On the horizon, the Valtorian fleet spread in full glory: imposing ships with sails gleaming like blades under the sun.

  Then suddenly, without warning, the fleet opened fire. Cannonballs screamed through the air like they thirsted for blood, crashing into the Sea Serpent with deadly precision. Jana roared commands, trying to steer the ship out of range, but the attack was relentless.

  —Why are they attacking us?! We showed them our flag! —Brannon shouted over the chaos.

  Jana had no answer. Her mind raced to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t until they drew near the enemy's flagship that she saw him: a familiar figure, standing tall on deck, directing the assault with ruthless efficiency.

  Rodrick.

  Presumed dead, he was alive. And not just alive—he now commanded the Valtorian fleet. Jana’s heart sank as she grasped the extent of his power. He had survived… and risen to rule one of the most feared naval forces on the continent.

  The Sea Serpent shuddered under another barrage.

  —Hold onto something! —Jana shouted as water began flooding the deck.

  The crew scrambled, shouting, diving into the sea as the ship went down fast. Amid the chaos, Jana glimpsed Rodrick on the deck of his flagship. His smile was that of a wolf.

  —You should’ve stayed hidden, Jana! —he roared, his voice cutting through the battle’s roar. Then he turned to his son, who stood wide-eyed beside him—. Look now at the traitors!

  The young man, pale and trembling, watched the Sea Serpent being torn apart. Rodrick, merciless, boarded the enemy ship with his men and executed most of Jana’s crew with cold, methodical brutality. The few survivors clung to wreckage, drifting like lost castaways.

  After the massacre, Rodrick grabbed his son by the collar.

  —As cruel as you may think I am, I wouldn’t let my blood drown in this filth —he growled, dragging him back to the main ship.

  Jana, struggling to stay afloat amid the waves, watched as Rodrick’s vessel drifted away, its flag waving like a banner of triumph. Her vision blurred. The Sea Serpent disappeared beneath the surface, leaving behind a grave silence. Her crew’s fate was swallowed by the seafoam and darkness.