The first light of dawn spilled across the hills, painting the road in soft gold.
Hooves thudded against the dirt as the riders pushed forward, their cloaks fluttering in the morning wind. The scent of pine and damp earth lingered in the air.
Kael rode at the front, squinting into the rising sun. Then he lifted his arm and pointed ahead.
“There!” he called, a grin breaking through his tired expression. “I can see the city walls — we’re almost there!”
Behind him, Lucien raised his head, his eyes narrowing toward the distant silhouette of Blackbarrow — its dark stone walls rising like a fortress against the glowing horizon.
Rook let out a low whistle. “Can’t believe we actually made it without getting ambushed.”
Leila chuckled softly. “Don’t jinx it. We’re not there yet.”
A few of the city guards laughed under their breath.
Lucien said nothing, though the faint smile tugging at his lips showed he’d heard them. His thoughts were already ahead — on the city, the next move, and the challenges that awaited him once he returned to the capital.
The road widened as they approached the outlying farmlands. Morning mist clung to the furrows of plowed soil, and smoke curled from distant chimneys.
A few farmers paused their work to watch the riders pass — wary eyes following the armed convoy.
Kael slowed his pace and glanced at Lucien. “We should reach the gate in half an hour. Think the local garrison will recognize us?”
Lucien smirked and pulled out a golden emblem engraved with twin lions. “They’ll recognize this.”
Rook’s eyes widened. “Is that made of gold?”
That earned him a snort from Leila. “What, never seen a golden emblem before?”
Kael allowed himself a brief chuckle, but his hand never strayed far from his sword hilt.
The air ahead felt heavier — as though the city itself was holding its breath.
By the time they reached the outer walls of Blackbarrow, the morning sun had already burned away the mist.
The road had grown busier — merchants leading wagons of grain and salted fish, travelers with packs slung over their shoulders, and farmers herding carts full of turnips and hay.
The air buzzed with voices and the creak of wooden wheels. The line to enter the city stretched far down the road.
Kael slowed his horse, scanning the long queue. “Looks like half the countryside’s trying to get in,” he muttered.
Rook tugged at his reins, grimacing. “Great. Just what we need — a morning traffic jam.”
Lucien said nothing. He sat tall in the saddle, cloak fluttering lightly in the wind.
Dimitri and the city guards adjusted their formation without a word, forming a natural corridor through the crowd.
Heads turned as they passed.
A group of children stopped playing in the dust, staring wide-eyed at the riders.
Merchants lowered their voices, and a farmer tugged his mule out of the way.
Before they reached the front of the line, the guards at the gate had already noticed them.
Two of them straightened immediately, hands moving to their weapons.
“Hold there!” one barked. “State your—”
Lucien raised a gloved hand, silencing him.
He reached into his cloak and drew out the golden emblem engraved with twin lions. The sunlight glinted sharply off its polished surface.
“By order of His Majesty,” he said evenly, his voice calm yet commanding. “Let us through.”
The guard froze mid-breath. His eyes widened, darting from Lucien to Kael and back again.
The other guard swallowed hard and motioned to the sentries above the wall.
A tense murmur rippled through the crowd.
“Did he say His Majesty?” someone whispered.
“Is he of royal blood?” another muttered.
Rook shifted in his saddle, lowering his voice. “Well, so much for keeping a low profile.”
Leila sighed. “We were never good at that anyway.”
Kael leaned toward Lucien. “Eyes on us from every angle,” he murmured. “You sure about walking in like this?”
Lucien’s gaze stayed fixed ahead, unreadable. “If they already know I’m alive,” he said softly, “then it doesn’t matter who’s watching.”
The guards glanced at each other, then moved aside slowly, widening the path.
The group rode forward under the dark archway, the crowd parting on either side.
As they crossed into the city’s shadow, they immediately felt it — the air within Blackbarrow was different from Mermaid’s Cove.
It was heavier. Quieter. Colder.
The cobbled streets were slick from the morning dew, and the sound of hooves echoed sharply against the stone walls.
Windows along the narrow streets creaked open as townsfolk peered out, curiosity mixing with unease.
Banners fluttered weakly overhead — the crest of Blackbarrow, a black stag against silver, faded and frayed at the edges.
Kael’s voice was low. “I don’t like it. Something feels off.”
Cassian scanned the rooftops. “There are a lot of closed windows for a busy morning.”
Lucien kept his gaze forward. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s head straight for the skyport.”
They pressed on through the main avenue, the uneasy stillness following them like a shadow.
Up ahead, a bell tolled once — deep and resonant, echoing across the streets.
Birds scattered from the rooftops.
Grey frowned. “That’s not a market bell.”
Leila’s hand drifted toward her dagger. “Then what is it?”
Before anyone could answer, a column of armored riders turned onto the avenue from the opposite end — banners bearing the stag of Blackbarrow fluttering behind them.
At their lead rode a man in dark plate, his helm crowned with silver antlers.
He reined his horse to a halt, voice carrying over the cobblestones.156Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlNWuz3jEPz
“Hold! Who enters Blackbarrow bearing the royal crest?”
Lucien slowed his mount, eyes locking on the commander. “I am Lucien Aurelius Virelion,” he said clearly. “I demand an audience with the mayor.”
A hush fell over the street.
The commander stared for a moment — then, to the astonishment of everyone watching, swung down from his horse and dropped to one knee.
“Your Highness…” he murmured, his voice trembling. “Forgive us. We did not know it was you.”
Lucien’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened around the reins.
He dismounted slowly, boots striking the stone with quiet finality.
“Rise, Commander. I don’t have time to waste,” he said. “Send word to the mayor — ask him to meet me at the skyport.”
The commander didn’t rise. Instead, he tilted his head upward, hesitation flickering in his eyes.
“Your Highness… are you planning to take the airship?”
Lucien turned sharply, his gaze cold. “Yes, Commander. Do we have a problem?”
The commander’s gaze darted briefly toward the northern spires beyond the rooftops. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but strained.
“Your Highness,” he said, “the skyport’s been sealed.”
Lucien’s brow furrowed. “Sealed?”
The commander nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. No vessels are departing or landing. Orders came from the mayor’s office one week ago — all airships have been grounded until further notice.”
A flicker of tension crossed Kael’s face. “That’s convenient,” he muttered.
Leila shifted in her saddle, eyes narrowing. “What happened?”
The commander straightened slowly, keeping his tone careful. “Rumors, mostly. Some say there were contrabands in the cargo bays… others whisper of a fire. But the truth is—”
He hesitated, glancing at the watching crowd. “No one knows for certain. The mayor’s been keeping the details quiet.”
Lucien’s expression darkened. “Where is he now?”
“He should be in the watchtower near the port, Your Highness.”
Lucien swung himself back into the saddle. “Then we’ll meet him there.”
The commander blinked. “Shall I send word ahead?”
“No need.” Lucien’s voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.
The Blackbarrow guards scrambled to clear the way as the convoy advanced once more, hooves striking the cobbles in measured rhythm.
Rook leaned toward Kael, muttering under his breath. “I’m getting the feeling this city doesn’t want us here.”
Kael’s eyes swept the upper windows. “You’re not wrong. Look at those shutters — someone’s watching.”
Leila nodded subtly. “And it’s not just curiosity.”
As they neared the heart of the city, the smell of smoke and hot metal thickened in the air.
The clang of distant machinery echoed through the streets, blending with the occasional bark of an order from unseen patrols.
Then, through the thinning fog, the skyport came into view — a massive iron structure perched over the city’s northern edge, its mooring towers wrapped in steam and cables.
But no engines roared. No crew shouted.
The airships, usually a proud sight above the skyline, sat grounded in eerie silence — their balloons half-deflated, ropes swaying idly in the wind.
Lucien slowed his horse, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
He sighed. “Looks like we’re not getting into the sky anytime soon.”
156Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdzyjI0cAZH
and then Add to home screen.