Chapter 5 - Betrayal at Oakhaven
The port town of Oakhaven was usually a chaotic, bustling hub of merchants, sailors, and mercenaries. But as Elara arrived under the cover of a thick coastal fog, she found the town choked by a dark military occupation.
Black-sailed warships bearing Regent Seraphina’s crest sat anchored in the harbor, their massive ballistas trained on the town's wooden docks. Armored guards patrolled every street corner, enforcing an absolute curfew. Anyone caught outside after sunset was immediately thrown into iron cages hung along the piers.
Elara pulled her deep wool hood low over her face as she slipped through the alleyways, heading toward the shadowy tavern known as The Drowned Anchor—a notorious hideout for smugglers and rogue sea captains.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of cheap ale, pipe smoke, and sweat. Elara approached the bar, placing three pure gold coins—stolen from a imperial patrol scout she had incapacitated earlier—onto the stained wood.
"I need passage to the Isle of Mist," Elara said in a low tone to the scarred bartender. "And I need to know if a woman traveling with a seven-year-old girl passed through here."
The bartender swept the gold into his apron, his eyes narrowing slyly. "Lots of women and kids pass through, stranger. But if you’re looking for the ones being hunted by Captain Malakor's men... they were brought into the harbor fort two hours ago."
Elara’s breath hitched. "Captured?"
"Aye. The child blew her cover when she accidentally burned a guard's arm with some sort of gold magic," the bartender whispered, leaning closer. "Malakor's keeping them in the sea-dungeon until the high tide. Then he sets sail back to the capital to deliver the little princess to the Regent."
Suddenly, the heavy wooden doors of the tavern were kicked off their hinges with a deafening crash.
A tall man in ornate black plate armor stepped into the room, flanked by twenty heavily armed imperial guards. It was Captain Malakor himself, his single visible eye gleaming with dark malice.
"Well, well," Malakor boomed, sweeping his gaze across the terrified patrons. "The bird flies right into the cage. Did you really think a tavern barkeep wouldn't sell you out for double the price, your Majesty?"
The bartender sneered, stepping back behind a steel door as guards flooded into the room, drawing their weapons.
May you like
Elara slowly pulled off her hood, her face cold and unreadable. "You have my daughter, Malakor."
"I have the heir to a fallen dynasty," Malakor corrected, pulling a massive dark steel broadsword from his back. "And soon, I will have your corpse."
