The harbor was louder than anything Eren had ever known.
The vessel glided into harbour with a groan of wood and fibre, the tide pounding against the hull in great, rhythmic thud. Seagulls flew above, crying raucously and endlessly, their calls intermingling with shouts of dockhands rolling casks and crates down wide ramps. The air was thick with odours—smoke and salt, tar and fish, the sweet, sharp aroma of fruit spilling from baskets carried on men's backs.
Eren stood as far out as he cared to over the railing, little hands gripping weathered wood for support. His eyes drank it all in. The dock stretched on forever, lined with ships of all sizes: squat, low-proved fishing boats, tight-sailed merchants, even a horror of a galleon that loomed with iron-tipped beams. It was a different world from the drab island where he'd lived his whole life.
His mother brushed against his shoulder. "Careful, Eren. Don't fall before we even set foot."
"I won't," he said quickly, though he didn't move back. His heart thudded in excitement. "Is this the mainland, Mom? Really the mainland?"
She smiled at his wonder. "Yes. And we haven't even left the harbor yet. Wait until you see the markets."
Behind him, his father led their pack down the gangplank, his back stiff and straight under the weight. He glanced over his shoulder at Eren and smiled. "Stay close when we're on the road. The capital's a week's ride into the interior, and I don't want to waste valuable time chasing you."
Eren blew out his cheeks but agreed. The problem was, he didn't want to be left behind either. The size and cacophony of the place overwhelmed him, as if the whole world had opened up at once.
They strode out onto the docks together, their boots clanging off the soggy planks. Everywhere he looked, there was a stir. A pair of elves in hooded robes bargained in quick, melodious voices outside a cart. A troop of soldiers in armor loaded spears into a wagon as their commander bellowed orders. Hawkers stood offering greasy kebabs of meat, calling out prices in their roughened tones.
Eren kept his mother's hand for a brief moment before letting go. He did not want to miss all of it—all the stands, all the peculiar symbols on crates, all the animals passed bound to wagons.
His parents were focused, though. His father was scanning lines of ships moored further down, eyes squinting as if measuring each ship. His mother was always glancing at bits of parchment in her hand—documents stamped with the royal seal.
"We require a skyship," she breathed to his father. "The capital's too far to walk. He can't handle weeks of walking yet."
"True." His father adjusted the strap across his shoulder. "But skyships are not to be found growing on trees. We'll have to negotiate."
The words meant nothing to Eren. His gaze had wandered already. He tagged at his mother's sleeve. "May I explore? Just a little?"
She hesitated. "Not far. And stay in view."
"Yes, Mom!"
And before she could change her mind, Eren ran down the wharf.
The harbor opened up to a wide square of light-stoned pavement. Stalls around the edge of the square, their awnings billowing in the air. Children darted among the carts, playing tag with wooden toys, while merchants called out over one another to entice customers.
Eren's eyes lit up. This was life in a manner the island never was.
He strolled slowly, glancing from peddler to peddler. A girl with scales on her cheeks sold baskets of glinting shells. A dwarf pounded out metal charms into shape, sparks flying with each strike. A tall, cloaked figure stirred a pot that sent wisps of spice stinging into the air and made Eren flicker his nose.
And he stopped.
There, behind a line of fishmongers yelling their offerings, stood a man he recognized.
The cloak was the same, worn at the edges from long journeying. The satchel still at his hip, strap black with wear. And at his side… the sword. Enwrapped in pale bands of steel, hilt glowing with a dim light as if it had drunk sunlight itself.
Eren's breath caught. His legs carried him forward before he had a chance to think.
"Kaelen!"
The man turned. His hood was down low, but when he pushed it back, that same scarred jawline showed. His eyes, sharp but tempered with amusement, landed on the boy. A smile played at his lips.
"Well," Kaelen said, his voice rough but warm. "Didn't think I'd see you here, little one."
Eren nearly jumped up and down. "I did it! We're on the mainland! And—and I read your book, I promise!" He cinched the satchel at his side hard against him. "I saw it. My tree. I went inside."
Kaelen raised his eyebrows. He stooped low so their eyes were level, just as he had along the way days before. "Already? That's faster than most grown men."
Eren slouched forward, words tumbling out. "There was this tree, and there were trails everywhere, like roads through the clouds! And—and I had a monster. Wolf creature. It was terrible, scarred, like from a nightmare. It just stood waiting, like it was expecting me to cross a boundary so it could fight me."
He shivered at the memory, tiny fists bunched.
Kaelen looked at him seriously, the grin dissipating from his lips. "A monster, you say?"
Eren nodded his head quickly. "But there was a message. It told me that if I defeated it, I could gain its power. But if I got hurt there, I'd get hurt here too. I wasn't ready, so I just practiced with the sword. I tried to stab a hundred times, but." He looked down, embarrassed. "I passed out after a few. And then the leaves on my tree. they wilted. All of them."
For an instant, Kaelen did not reply. His gaze drifted far away, as if weighing heavy thoughts.
"So." His voice was low. "You're walking the Reality Path."
Eren blinked. "Yeah! That's what you do call it?"
Kaelen exhaled slowly. "Most who walk Reality become healers, boy. It's the path of menders. Of those who mend wounds and restore strength. Are you a healer?
Eren's chest heaved with an instant. "No! I don't wish to heal. I wish to fight. I'll be a warrior—one everyone will tremble before. I'll hack through anything! Even reality!"
For the first time, Kaelen's face darkened ever so faintly. Not anger—more worry with something older, heavier. "A fighter with the Reality Path…" He shook his head. "That's rare. DANGEROUS, too."
Eren pressed on excitedly. "But I've already done it! I can walk through blades of swords. I've called it Phase. I almost caught Father doing it when we practiced. Isn't that wonderful?"
Kaelen's eyes narrowed, but his voice stayed even. "Wonderful, yes. But listen to me, boy—Phase isn't a toy. If you keep using it without knowing, you'll have the world itself cutting back on you."
Eren scrunched up his face in puzzlement. "Cutting back?"
Before Kaelen could answer, he heard a voice he knew in the distance.
"Eren!"
His parents. They'd returned from the docks, fighting through the crowds to reach him. His father's hand was raised, his voice carrying out clearly above the noise.
Kaelen kept his posture upright. Eren's parents reached them a few seconds later. His mother eyed the stranger suspiciously, while his father assessed the man with a soldier's gaze.
"Who is this?" his father asked, voice guarded.
Eren smiled. "This is him! The fellow who gave me the book!" He waved it above his head like a trophy.
His father's eyes widened in recognition. He extended a work-hardened hand. "Then I'm in your debt. I'm Darius Soler. Thank you for helping my son find his way."
Kaelen took his hand firmly. "Kaelen Veynar."
The two men looked at each other for a moment—measuring, weighing, then both nodding slightly.
"Come, Eren," his mother whispered. "We got a ride." so they climbed aboard and started their ride.The ride took the harbor out of sight, the bellowing of docks fading into the distance as wheels thudded against the stone road. Their carrier sat high at the front, reins in hand, prodding the massive beast that pulled the carriage along even strides.
Eren's nose was flat against the side window since the moment they'd departed. The mainland was nothing like his home on the island. Rolling fields passed by innumerable, dotted with farmhouses and grazing cows. Mountains rose way, way off in the distance, their rocky peaks veiled in cloudy white. They appeared so far away, and yet they loomed over him with a bulk that squeezed his chest.
They're. huge," he breathed, his breath fogging the glass. "Bigger than anything on the island."
His mother glanced at him, smiling at his wonder. "Those are the Farlands. Entire tribes live in the mountain passes. Some people claim the air is thin and sharp enough to cut your lungs."
Eren shivered with cold, not fear but excitement. He wanted to visit there someday.
The carriage rolled on. Soon, the fields opened wide. A patchwork of green and gold stretched across the horizon—wheat swaying like waves in the wind, corn stalks rising taller than men, neat rows vanishing into the distance.
Eren's eyes went wide. "That… that's the biggest crop field I've ever seen!"
His father chuckled. "Feeding a city takes more than a few gardens, boy."
Eren didn't answer. He continued to stare, memorizing every line of the fields.
Hours went by. As the sun started to lean westward, they approached the shore of a huge lake. The water shone like runny silver, imitating the colors of the sky. And in the very middle, sprouting up out of the surface of the lake, lay a city.
Eren made such a loud gasp his mother laughed in shock.
The city lay upon a huge island, its walls white and aglow, towers reaching for the sky. Smaller islands stood in groups on the lake that encircled it, each crowned with its own building: a red-banneered mansion, a squat fortress whose forges belched wisps of smoke into the air, what looked like a practice ground where men in armor practiced combat under the careful eyes of instructors. Arched bridges stretched across some of the islands, with others drifting solitary, bound only by boats or gleaming runes held aloft in mid-air.
Eren's mouth was open. How in the world do we get there?
He leaned further out the window, observing their beast of burden. The creature progressed steadily forward on four thick legs, its step strong but somehow lovely. It was horse-like in its shape and stance but had scaly skin like a basilisk, dark green with crests along its back. Its eyes glowed faintly yellow, narrow like a snake's.
"There's no way this thing can walk on water," Eren snarled.
The carriage came to a slow stop. A gate swung up before it, from the lake's shoreline. It was high and white, carved with runes that glowed like moonlight. Holy knights stood at attention in gold-and-silver armor, shields firmly planted beside them. Their swords gleamed even in the fading light.
One knight appeared as they drew up to their carriage. He was taller than average, his skin pale compared to the orange flame of his hair. His countenance was calm but watchful.
"How many are in your group?" the knight asked, his tone brief but not unkind.
"Three," the bearer said.
"There is a gate fee," the knight declared, holding out his hand.
Grumbling not at all, the carrier reached into his pouch and spilled a small heap of silver coins into the knight's palm. The coins clinked, catching the light. The knight nodded once, stepped aside, and allowed them to continue.
As they passed, Eren couldn't help but gaze at the knight's shiny armor. It reflected like a mirror, unblemished and new. The sword on his hip was long and straight, its edge unadorned, its hilt wrapped in white leather.
"I'll be like you one day," Eren panted to himself, staring at the knight.
The knight's head moved minimally, as if he'd caught it. A small smile spread across his face.
"Looking forward to it," he said.
Eren's heart flew high. He shoved himself back into his chair, so big a smile his mother raised an eyebrow in astonishment.
Outside the gate, the road led them onto a shining circle incised into the stone floor. The runes along its edge flared as the beast set one foot upon it.
Eren sensed the air shift. All around him warped, bending like ripples in a pond. For an instant, his stomach had been ripped up into his throat. Light surrounded everything—
Suddenly, in the split second, they were on the central island proper.
Eren's jaw dropped. "That was. wow!" His whole body tingled. "First time teleporting!
His father chuckled. "You'll get used to it. The capital has circles everywhere."
The carriage clattered off the glowing platform and rolled into the city streets. The air here was different—cleaner, almost humming with unseen energy. The buildings rose tall, their walls carved from pale stone and etched with faint runes. Banners snapped from balconies, each embroidered with symbols Eren didn't recognize.
"Can we ride?" his mother asked the carrier eventually. "For a day only. We'll pay more."
The carrier shrugged, tugging on the reins. "Provided I get paid, I've no complaints. I'll be at the eastern stables tomorrow morning."
"Excellent," said his father, proffering a small pouch of coins.
As they turned deeper into the city, Eren leaned again to the window. He barely paid attention as his parents argued about where to stay the night. His gaze was drawn forward—
Because a commotion was breaking out in the street.
Two men stood at the center of the crowd converging. One was huge, broad-shouldered and towering, clad in thick plate that glowed like bronze. The other was shorter, still heavy-bodied but clearly younger, his armor less complex, battered from use.
The larger man growled, shaking a shattered glass vial. "Do you have any idea what you've done? That was an Ijon leaf recharger elixir! Worth more than your miserable life!"
The smaller man threw up his hands in protest. "It wasn't my fault! Who buys so much and puts it into something so fragile? You shouldn't have brought it here!"
"You smashed it!" snapped the larger man. "You pay for it!"
The crowd growled. Some head-shook, others laughed at the ordeal. Eren's eyebrows furrowed. What a ridiculous excuse is that? Blaming someone else for being careful just because you destroyed their thing?
Before the argument could escalate, a third figure stepped between them. He wore no heavy armor—just a simple leather vest over his tunic—but the sword at his hip spoke of skill. His presence silenced the air at once.
"That's enough," the swordsman said, his voice calm but firm. He glanced at the larger man. "You'll get your compensation. But not here. This is the heart of the city."
He looked at the shorter man. "Uzard. Pay him back. And be more careful next time."
The shorter man—presumably Uzard—slumped his shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. "Okay. See you at the bar tonight. I'll even buy you a drink."
The big man huffed but released the broken vial. "You'd better."
The swordsman nodded, his face satisfied, and stepped aside. The crowd dispersed, grumbling their disappointment at the premature ending of the fight.
Eren leaned back in his seat, his fists clenched. What a lame excuse… He blames the other person at first for spending too much, then he just caves all of a sudden because someone bigger comes along?
The carriage lurched on, leaving the fight behind.
And in between the ensuing silence, Eren's mind couldn't release.
One day, I won't be looking out the window from where I am. One day, I'll be the one standing in the way. Like Baen. Like that samurai. Someone that people can't ignore.
The city loomed before him, towering spires glowing in the dusk, as if daring him to make those words true.