The dawn came slow and gray over the open water. A pale sun pushed through the fog like a weary coin rising from the deep, casting thin light over the restless sea. The fishing boat rocked gently, its hull creaking as Kael worked the tiller with steady hands. Adrian sat near the bow, arms wrapped around himself against the chill.
Grayhaven was gone, swallowed by the mist. Only the faint smell of salt and tar clung to his clothes — a reminder that the city hadn't been a dream. Neither were the masked figures who'd chased him. Neither was the blade he'd forged for them.
"You're quiet," Kael said finally, glancing at him over his shoulder.
Adrian didn't answer right away. His thoughts were a knot too tight to untangle. "Where are we going?"
"East," Kael said simply. "There's a cove two days from here. Safe harbor. A friend keeps watch there."
"A friend like you?"
Kael smirked faintly. "Someone who doesn't ask questions and doesn't sell answers. Rare breed."
Adrian stared out at the waves. "You said you owed my father a favor."
Kael's expression tightened, though he kept his eyes on the horizon. "I did."
"What kind of favor?"
The wind tugged at Kael's hood, and for a moment Adrian saw the scar that curved along his jaw, pale against weathered skin. "Your father saved my life. Years ago. Long before you were old enough to hold a hammer."
Adrian swallowed. "You knew him back when…?"
"Back when he wasn't just a smith." Kael's voice held something unreadable. "Your father had a way of making powerful enemies. And powerful friends."
Adrian's chest tightened. "He never told me any of that."
"Of course he didn't. He wanted you clear of it." Kael's gaze sharpened. "But now the Plume's taken an interest in you — and they don't take interest lightly. You're in their books now."
Adrian rubbed his hands together, trying to push away the chill. "Why me? I'm just a craftsman. I make swords, plowshares, door hinges—"
"You're better than that," Kael cut in. "You forge with instinct, not just skill. I've seen blades like yours — rare work. The Plume sees it too. They recruit talent… and chain it."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "I didn't have a choice. That man — the one who came to the forge — he made it clear."
"There's always a choice," Kael said quietly. "But it's never an easy one."
The first day passed in uneasy silence. Adrian tried to rest, but the rocking boat and Kael's watchful stillness kept him awake. Every shadow on the water felt like a ship in pursuit. Every gull cry made him flinch.
By nightfall, Kael finally broke the quiet. "We should talk about what comes next."
Adrian looked up, exhausted. "What comes next is me going home."
Kael shook his head. "Not yet. Not until we know what the Plume wanted with that blade. You think they're just going to take your work and leave you alone? They'll use you again. Or worse."
"So what do you suggest?" Adrian said bitterly. "Run forever?"
"Run long enough to get leverage," Kael said. "You're not just a smith anymore, Vale. Whether you like it or not, you're in the middle of something bigger than Grayhaven."
Adrian stared at him. "What exactly is the Plume?"
Kael hesitated, then spoke slowly. "They started as couriers — smugglers of secrets. Kings and merchants paid them to move information no one else could carry. But power changes people. They stopped delivering messages and started writing them. Started pulling strings."
"And my father…?"
"Your father crossed them once," Kael said flatly. "That's why I'm here. If they know who you are, they may think they can finish what they started with him."
Adrian felt a hollow ache in his chest. His father had warned him about "old crests and older secrets," but never said why. Never said who he'd angered.
"What did he do?" Adrian asked.
Kael met his gaze, then looked away. "That's not my story to tell. But it's one you'll have to hear eventually."
The second morning dawned bright and cold, the sea calmer than before. Adrian finally slept, though uneasily, dreaming of fire and shadows that moved like serpents.
Kael woke him with a hand on his shoulder. "Land's close. We'll reach the cove by nightfall."
Adrian stretched, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "And then what?"
"Then I introduce you to someone who can help. Someone who knows more about the Plume than I do."
"Another mysterious friend?" Adrian muttered.
Kael's mouth twitched. "You'll like this one. She doesn't try to sound mysterious — it just happens naturally."
The day passed without incident. The boat cut through green-gray water, the coastline slowly resolving into cliffs and pine woods. As evening settled, they slipped into a narrow cove hidden between jagged rocks. A single lantern glowed on the shore — a signal.
A woman waited there, tall and broad-shouldered, with sun-darkened skin and hair tied back in a messy knot. She wore a weather-beaten coat and carried herself like someone who'd seen too many storms.
"Kael," she called as they beached the boat. "You're late."
"Fog," Kael said shortly, tying off the rope. "And company." He nodded at Adrian. "This is Vale."
The woman's eyes flicked over Adrian, sharp and measuring. "Smith's hands," she said. "Strong. Burned. Good. I'm Elara."
Adrian nodded warily. "Nice to meet you."
"Don't lie to her," Kael muttered. "She can smell it."
Elara snorted and waved them toward a path leading into the pines. "We'll talk where no one's listening."
Her cabin sat back from the cove, small but sturdy, smelling faintly of resin and smoke. Inside, a kettle steamed on the hearth. Adrian sank into a chair, grateful for the warmth.
"You brought trouble," Elara said, pouring tea into rough clay cups. "I can feel it from here."
"Serpent Plume," Kael said simply.
Elara's brow furrowed. "Thought they'd gone quiet."
"They're not," Kael replied. "They had him make something."
Elara looked at Adrian. "What?"
"A dagger," Adrian said. "Perfect balance. I don't know who for."
Elara's eyes narrowed. "Then someone's about to die. And not just anyone."
Adrian's stomach twisted. "What do you mean?"
"The Plume doesn't waste work like yours on petty assassinations," Elara said grimly. "If they wanted a weapon, it's for someone important. And if they have a smith like you, they'll want to keep you. Or silence you."
Adrian gripped his cup tightly. "So what do I do? Hide here forever?"
"No," Elara said. "We find out who they're targeting — and why."
"And then?"
"Then," Kael said, "we decide whether to warn them… or let the Plume's plan burn itself alive."
Adrian stared at the fire in the hearth, feeling the weight of every word. He had never asked for this — for secret guilds, or assassins in the fog, or strangers who knew his father's past. He just wanted his forge back. But that world felt far away now.
"Vale," Kael said quietly. "You're not just making metal anymore. You're making choices."
Adrian looked up at both of them. "Then let's start by finding out who I just armed."