Chapter 31: Fragments of Forgotten Lives

As they made their way through the dilapidated streets of Amaris, Calen explained the grim reputation of the Rainshadow Isles. “This place isn’t much more than a cesspit,” he said grimly. “It survives on the scraps Aeris tosses overboard and the merchants forced to stop here. Smuggling, stolen goods, illegal medicines, drugs—hell, even human trafficking. If it’s black-market filth, you’ll find it here.”

Livra shuddered but said nothing, her hands gripping her cloak tightly. Balthar merely grunted, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings like a hawk.

“But all of it,” Calen continued, “happens in the shadows. You don’t just stumble into it. You have to know where to look.” He paused, glancing at Livra. “And luckily for us, I do.”

They continued their trek until they reached the outskirts of the town. There, half-hidden by overgrown foliage, stood the ruins of an ancient temple. Its once-grand pillars had crumbled into jagged stumps, and the walls were little more than fragments of stone, covered in moss and etched with faded symbols from a forgotten religion.

The air felt heavier here, as if the place carried the weight of its forsaken past. At the temple’s entrance, two burly men stood on guard, their rough-hewn faces shadowed by the flickering torchlight.

“Stop right there,” one of the guards barked as the group approached. He gripped a crude wooden club in his hand, his eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar faces. “What’s your business here?”

Calen stepped forward, his voice firm despite the nervous knot tightening in his stomach. “Tell your boss—your rat-bastard of a boss, Hagar Scrowe—that Calen Ardyn is here to pay him a visit.”

The guards exchanged a glance, their expressions hardening. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, boy,” the second guard sneered. “Hagar doesn’t deal with outsiders, and you’d best turn around before we teach you what happens to nosy strangers.”

The first guard stepped forward, brandishing his club. “We said get lost!”

Balthar stepped forward in turn, his massive frame casting a menacing shadow over the guards. His hand rested on the hilt of his knife, the blade glinting faintly in the torchlight. “I’d rethink that if I were you,” he growled in a voice so low and cold it seemed to echo through the ruins.

The tension crackled like a drawn bowstring. The guards hesitated, but they weren’t about to back down. One raised his club higher, clearly ready to strike.

“Enough,” came a raspy voice from the shadows behind them.

The guards froze and turned toward the sound. From within the ruins, a figure emerged, flanked by two more men. Hagar Scrowe was a wiry man with greasy black hair and a face like a rat’s—narrow, sharp, and constantly twitching. His eyes glinted with a cunning malice that made Livra instinctively step closer to Calen.

“Well, well,” Hagar drawled, his voice like oil dripping from a rusty spigot. “Calen Ardyn. Didn’t expect to see you sniffing around my turf. Thought you were too soft for this kind of business since you part to Aeris long time ago.”

Calen forced a confident smirk. “Maybe. But even soft people like me have coin, and I think you’re the kind of man who’d sell his own shadow for the right price.”

Hagar grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “You hear right. What do you want, boy? Do you perhaps want to stow away on some commercial ship or capsule to enter Aeris again like you did 6 years ago? ”

“Information,” Calen said bluntly. “We’re looking for someone—or rather, something. A girl named Ava Lysan. Supposed to be dead, but rumor says she isn’t.”

The mention of Ava Lysan’s name wiped the grin from Hagar’s face. His eyes darted toward the ruins behind him, then back to Calen, suspicious. “Lysan? Why the hell are you asking about that ghost?”

“That’s our business,” Balthar rumbled, stepping forward. “Yours is to tell us what you know. If you don’t…” He trailed off, his knife flashing in the torchlight.

Hagar let out a nervous laugh. “Easy, easy! No need for threats. But asking about Lysans, especially that little cripple, is bad news. You’re poking a nest of hornets, my friends. Maybe you should turn around before you get stung.”

Calen stepped closer, his tone icy. “We didn’t come all this way to turn back now. You know something, Scrowe. Spill it.”

Hagar hesitated, his twitchy eyes scanning the group. Finally, he gestured for them to follow. “Fine. You want to know what I know? Come inside. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The group followed him into the ruins, descending a series of stone steps into the temple’s hidden depths. The air grew colder as they went, the faint sound of dripping water echoing around them. At the bottom, the passage opened into a sprawling cavern, dimly lit by flickering lanterns.

The space was alive with illicit activity. Men and women haggled over crates of stolen goods, powders, and vials. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning herbs and the metallic tang of blood.

Hagar Scrowe leaned against the moldy stone wall of the ancient temple, crossing his wiry arms with a sneer. “Before we get too cozy, there’s one thing we need to settle first,” he said, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and malice. “How exactly do you plan to pay for this little chat?”

Balthar stepped forward, his expression cold and unyielding. He pulled out his communicator and flicked it on, letting the glow of the screen illuminate a bank account balance that shimmered with more zeroes than anyone in the room had likely ever seen. “Money won’t be an issue,” he said curtly. “You name your price, and if the information is worth it, you’ll get paid.”

Hagar let out a disdainful laugh, shaking his head. “Ah, mercenaries. Always flashing your coin around like it’s the answer to everything. You really think money’s all I want?” He leaned in closer, his rat-like face splitting into a grin. “Sometimes there are things better than money, things you can’t buy. You know what I mean, don’t you, boy?” His eyes shifted to Calen, narrowing as he searched his face.

Calen’s jaw clenched, his voice sharp as steel. “Yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about, you piece of trash. Irradiated Levicita. I know who you sell to, and I know where you get it. You want some? Fine. I can get it. But only if you stop wasting our time and tell us what you know.”

For a moment, the tension between them was so thick it could have been cut with a blade. Then, Hagar’s face split into a satisfied smirk. “Well, well. Looks like you’ve got some bite in you after all. Alright, we’ve got a deal.”

Hagar gestured for them to sit at the rickety table nearby. He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“The truth is, I don’t know where that little cripple from the Lysan family ended up, or even if she’s still alive. But I’ve heard whispers—rumors, really. After the explosion in the mines, when her old man’s experiments went belly-up, there were sightings of her being taken to an orphanage. Not just any orphanage, though.”

Livra frowned. “Where?”

“Ever hear of the floating stones on Aeris’s outskirts?” Hagar asked, raising a brow.

Calen nodded. “Yeah. Used to be housing developments, back before the LCC expanded into the lower zones and rendered the whole area useless. They’ve been abandoned for years now—just rocks drifting around Aeris, falling apart.”

“Exactly,” Hagar said. “But back then, there was an orphanage on one of those stones. People say the girl might have ended up there. The thing is, that place always struck me as odd. Over the years, I ran some smuggling operations for them—illegal meds, rare stuff that costs a fortune. Way out of the budget of a normal orphanage. And it wasn’t just once or twice, either. Regular shipments, always under the radar.”

“What kind of meds?” Balthar asked, his voice edged with suspicion.

“Experimental drugs. Gene stabilizers. Radiation suppressants. Things you’d only need if you were dealing with someone seriously messed up. It made me wonder…” Hagar’s voice trailed off, and he looked at the group meaningfully.

Livra’s eyes widened. “If she was alive, she’d have needed that kind of treatment,” she whispered.

“Exactly,” Hagar said. “I don’t know if she’s still there—hell, I don’t even know if the place is still operating. But if you’re looking for the Lysan girl, that orphanage is your best bet. Just one problem.”

“And what’s that?” Calen asked.

“The floating stones are unstable now,” Hagar said with a shrug. “Collapsed infrastructure, rogue gravity shifts. Even if you find the right one, getting in and out alive isn’t a guarantee. But hey…” He grinned, his teeth yellowed in the dim light. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

"Also." He paused, his eyes darting nervously to the shadows. “There’s been…sightings. Not of her, exactly, but of her work. Strange shipments coming in from the Outer Continent. Machines. Chemicals. Things no one should be messing with. All these transports of dangerous materials have been increasing in recent years.”

“And where are these shipments going?” Calen pressed.

"Where? To Aeris of course my boy. But to places you don't even know they exist." Said the rat man.

Calen stood, his expression grim but resolute. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Pleasure doing business,” Hagar said, leaning back with a chuckle.

The group left the black market behind, their minds racing as they prepared for their next move. As they stepped back into the crumbling temple ruins, Livra broke the silence.

“If the orphanage is abandoned, there’s no telling what’s waiting for us there,” she said, her voice laced with unease.

“We don’t have a choice,” Calen replied. “If there’s even a chance Ava Lysan is alive—or that we’ll find clues about her there—we have to take it.”