The Gate of Flowers rose high above the outskirts of Valdora, its arches twisting in intricate patterns of carved stone, entwined with living petals that swayed in the gentle breeze. The fragrance of jasmine, roses, and rare blooms hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint scent of metal and smoke drifting from distant airships. Beyond the gate lay a land whispered about in floating cities, yet few had ever seen it firsthand — the land of Samantha, Valdora, a name spoken with awe, respect, and a touch of fear.
Mickey slowed his pace, taking in every detail. Creek, his wolf companion, trotted close by, muscles tensed, ears flicking nervously at each sound. The wolf sniffed the air, sensing movement above and below. Mickey's sharp eyes scanned the city visible beyond the gate: narrow cobbled streets, market stalls bursting with goods, smoke rising from small kitchens, and the faint hum of sky cables stretching between platforms.
A subtle tension lingered, a predator's sense that Mickey had learned to trust over years of survival. Something watched from above, hidden in the folds of the city's architecture, but he did not notice it — yet.
Stepping under the arch, the petals rustled and brushed against him, leaving faint streaks of color across his dark clothes. The streets of Valdora stretched before him, alive with movement. Children ran in narrow alleys, chasing stray scraps of metal. Earth Rats darted between stalls, shouting prices and insults alike, their small forms quick and wiry. Merchants juggled goods, some rare and exotic, others mundane. Every sound, every scent painted a picture of the city's rhythm, a rhythm that Mickey could read.
He let Creek move ahead slightly, careful not to pull on the leash too tightly. The wolf's instincts were keen, sensing both the chaos and the order beneath it.
Mickey's eyes caught a large, worn map displayed across a table in the marketplace. Its edges were frayed, colors faded, but it showed the scattered islands, dangerous seas, and the floating cities — a rough but readable sketch of the drowned world beyond. Mickey crouched, tracing the lines with his finger, mentally piecing together trade routes, currents, and possible dangers.
"Interesting, isn't it?" a small Earth Rat rasped from behind the table. His wiry frame leaned forward, a crooked grin on his face.
"It is," Mickey said calmly, keeping his gaze fixed on the map. "Where did you get this?"
"Old trader from the sky city," the Rat replied. "Not perfect, but good enough if you know how to read between the lines."
Mickey nodded slightly, scanning the crowd. The Earth Rat disappeared into the throng, leaving him alone with the map for a brief moment — long enough for the subtle hum of an approaching Sky Dweller airship to reach him.
Before Mickey could make another move, a shadow passed over the table. Three Sky Dwellers descended, nets glinting in the sunlight, targeting Creek immediately. The wolf's hackles raised, ears flattening. Mickey's jaw tightened.
"You want him?" Mickey's voice was low but unwavering. "You'll have to get through me first."
The Sky Dwellers laughed, a cruel sound that echoed over the marketplace. Nets snapped forward. Mickey moved first, his reflexes sharper than the human eye could follow. He rolled to the side, grabbing a loose rope from a nearby stall and yanking it to entangle the lead attacker. Another net flung toward Creek, but Mickey kicked a crate, deflecting it just in time.
Creek leapt, teeth bared, claws digging into the cobblestones, forcing the Sky Dwellers to retreat slightly. Mickey rolled again, using his momentum to strike another assailant with a metal rod he picked up. Each movement was precise, a dance of defense and offense, while Creek moved in perfect coordination beside him.
The marketplace erupted into chaos. Stalls toppled, spilling fruits, spices, and trinkets into the streets. Earth Rats ducked behind counters, shouting and laughing at the scene, calling out warnings to their friends. Airships above hummed, carrying Sky Dwellers who attempted to regain control. But Mickey's movements were a blur — every step, every strike, every block calculated, deadly.
Creek circled, snapping at heels, barking, and lunging at anyone who came too close. The bond between man and wolf solidified with every coordinated move, every split-second reaction. By the time the Sky Dwellers retreated to their airship, panting and frustrated, Creek was breathing heavily but his eyes glowed with respect and loyalty.
"You did well, Creek," Mickey murmured, kneeling and placing a hand on the wolf's head. Creek pressed his muzzle into Mickey's palm, a silent vow of obedience and trust.
Shoppers and traders peeked out from behind counters, whispering about the stranger and the wolf who had just defended themselves so effortlessly. No one spoke of the Lady of Valdora, yet every eye seemed to feel her presence, a subtle reminder of the order governing this city.
Mickey's gaze returned to the map, now slightly wrinkled from his earlier handling. He couldn't buy it — the Sky Dwellers had interrupted him, and he wasn't about to risk another confrontation here. He memorized the details quickly, committing every major land, floating city, and sea to memory. The inaccuracies didn't matter — it was enough to understand the rough layout of the drowned world.
As he wandered deeper into Valdora, Mickey noticed small details that painted the city's character. Earth Rats moved in and out of alleys, carrying messages, goods, and occasionally, scraps of information about floating cities and dangerous zones. Sky Dwellers above negotiated deals, exchanged rare commodities, and scouted for opportunities. Every interaction, every whisper, every glance told a story of power, hierarchy, and survival.
Creek stayed close, alert and attentive. When a stray child tossed a small knife toward him in play, the wolf caught it midair with a snap of his jaws, turning it harmlessly toward a crate. Mickey couldn't help but smirk — intelligence and instinct combined perfectly.
Hours passed as Mickey explored. He observed trades, noted the scarcity of certain goods, listened to rumors of forbidden lands, and saw the patterns in which the Sky Dwellers moved between Valdora and the floating cities. Every piece of information added a fragment to his understanding of this world.
And yet, someone watched him.
From a high platform hidden behind flowering vines, a pair of eyes followed his every step. Shadowed, silent, careful. Mickey didn't notice — but the watcher recorded everything, filing each detail away for the unseen ruler who controlled Valdora.
By the time the sun began to dip, casting long shadows over the cobbled streets, Mickey had gathered what he could without confrontation. Creek trotted faithfully beside him, no longer merely a wolf but a partner in the silent rhythm of survival.
The Gate of Flowers lay far behind, a symbol of passage and change. Valdora's heart beat around them, in the chatter of Earth Rats, the hum of airships, and the unseen gaze of its mysterious ruler.
The Arc of Frozen Wind had begun in earnest.