The Port

The journey to the coast took three days. The dense forest thinned, replaced by windswept grasslands that smelled of salt.

For the first time, Aki could see the horizon. It did nothing to calm the storm inside him.

Shika, perched on his shoulder, was a warm, curious presence.

“Aki? Are you a myth beast, too? "

Aki kept his eyes on the path.

“No.”

“But the swords. You make them from your skin. That’s not normal. "

“I don’t know,” he said, his tone flat. He didn’t like thinking about it.

The power felt less like a gift and more like a curse.

“It started after my grandfather died.”

“Your presence… it brings a warmth to me, " Shika said with a comforting feel. “It’s how I learned I could talk. And how I learned to change. "

“That form,” Aki said,

He stopped walking. “The big one. What was it?”

“I only use that to defend, " she said proudly. “It is my true self. But I like being small. It’s easier to ride on your shoulder. "

He grunted, a sound that was almost a laugh, and continued walking. The fragile peace wouldn’t last.

On the fourth day, they saw it: the capital harbor of Aqua mire. It was no prosperous port. It was a wretched hive, a collection of rotting piers and leaning buildings clinging to the coast like barnacles.

The reek of fish, cheap ale, and unwashed bodies hung heavy in the air. The sounds were of drunken shouts and the endless, hungry cry of gulls. And everywhere, plastered on walls, were wanted posters. His face stared back at him.

WANTED ALIVE:

FOR MURDER OF THE KING’S GUARD

6000 KETOS

“Shit. Get down,” he muttered.

Shika scurried into the collar of his tunic. Aki pulled his hood low and walked into the port. The people here were different. Not scared villagers. Not professional soldiers. These were bottom-feeders—cutthroats and pirates who would kill a man for a handful of ketos. Six thousand was a king’s ransom. He was a walking sack of gold in a city of thieves.

“Aki, I don’t like it here,” Shi whispered in his mind. “Their thoughts are… cruel. And hungry. "

“Stay hidden. And stay quiet.”

He needed information. And food. A stall vendor with a greasy apron and a smile that didn’t reach his shifty eyes waved him over.

“You there, traveler! You look hungry!” the vendor boomed, his voice too friendly. “First meal in Aqua mire is on the house! A welcome gift!” Aki approached, his hand resting near his side.

“Aki! " Shika’s thought was a sharp warning. “This man’s thoughts are greasy. He thinks of silver keto. He knows who you are! "

“I know.”

“Thank you,” Aki said to the vendor. “Kindness is rare.”

The man’s smile widened. He turned to grab a piece of grilled fish, and, as his back was turned, he deftly sprinkled a pinch of grey powder onto it.

A sedative.

“Enjoy,” the vendor said, his eyes glinting.

Aki took the fish. He looked the man dead in the eye, then deliberately dropped it onto the filthy ground.

The vendor’s smile vanished. “What—”

“I don’t like fish,” Aki said coldly.

He turned and walked down a narrow, refuse-strewn alley. He knew they would follow.

“It was better to get it over with.”

He heard their footsteps a moment later.

Four of them. Heavy, confident steps. They blocked the alley’s entrance, silhouettes against the bright, grimy street. A massive brute with a scarred face and a rusty cutlass stepped forward. He held up a crumpled wanted poster.

“Six thousand keto,” the thug rumbled.

“That’s a lot of money. You’re going to make us very happy, boy.” Aki didn’t turn around.

“Let me pass.”

The thug laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “I don’t think so. There’s four of us. One of you. Be smart.”

Aki slowly turned.

“I’ll give you options,” he said, his voice a deadly whisper. “Walk away, or die.”

The thug’s face twisted in a furious snarl. “You arrogant little bastard! Get him!”

They charged.

The first came with a wild swing of an axe. Aki sidestepped and drove the heel of his palm into the man’s nose. A wet crunch echoed in the alley. The man screamed, staggering back, blood pouring from his ruined face.

A second thug lunged with a dagger. Aki caught his wrist, twisted it until the man shrieked and dropped the blade, then slammed his head into the nearby brick wall. A dull, sickening thud. The man slumped to the ground.

Two down. In five seconds.

The remaining two, the leader and one other, stopped dead.

“What the fuck are you?” the leader growled.

Aki’s hand began to smile. “I’m the motherfucker who’s about to end you.” He said with excitement. His hand morphed into the brutal head of a battleaxe. The two remaining thugs stared at the impossible weapon, their bravado gone, replaced by raw fear.

“Magic…” the second thug whispered. “He’s a magic freak! A monster…”

“Shut up and fight!” the leader roared, though he didn’t move.

Aki took a slow step forward.

“You made two mistakes,” he said, his voice a low monotone. “First, thinking you could take me.”

He took another step.

“Second,” he continued, “thinking I’d let you live.”

The second thug broke. He screamed, turned, and ran. He didn’t make it two steps.

Aki’s axe hand swung. The weapon flew, a spinning wheel of grey death. It embedded itself in the fleeing man’s spine. He let out a strangled cry and collapsed, twitching.

“Silence.” Aki said with terrifying tone

Only the leader was left, trembling.

“Please,” the thug leader begged, his voice cracking. “Mercy…”

Aki walked over to the man with the shattered nose, who was moaning on the ground. He put a foot on the man’s arm. Then he stomped.

A loud, wet CRACK echoed through the alley. The man’s scream was high-pitched and animalistic.

Aki looked back at the leader, his eyes empty. “What were you saying?”

The leader sobbed and dropped his cutlass. He fell to his knees. “Don’t kill me! Please!”

Aki walked over. “I need to get to the Doctor’s island.”

The thug looked up, confused. “The… the cursed island? No one goes there! It’s suicide!”

“You know a way,” Aki stated.

“No… I swear…”

Aki raised his foot and placed it on the man’s knee. He slowly applied pressure.

“Okay! Okay, fuck!” he screamed. “I don’t know the way! But… there is someone who can get you there!”

Aki eased the pressure. “Who?”

“He’s an old sea dog! A captain! The only bastard mad enough to sail the Aqua mire Strait!”

“Where is he?” Aki demanded.

The thug was crying now. “He… He’s always at the old bathhouse! By the eastern pier! His name is Kiro!”

Aki stared down at him. He had his information. He reached down, his hand clamping around the thug’s throat. The man’s eyes went wide.

“Thank you,” Aki said.

A final, sickening crunch. He let the body fall and walked out of the alley, leaving the carnage behind without a second glance.