Kena stood at the edge of Elmwick, her muddy boots sinking into the soft, wet ground.
The town was alive with noise and color. People laughed and shouted all around her, their voices blending with the low hum of glowing lanterns that floated high above the streets.
The houses sparkled with warm light, their windows bright against the evening sky.
The air carried the sweet smell of fresh bread and blooming flowers, teasing Kena's nose.
Her stomach growled loudly again, even though she had eaten some wild berries not long ago.
She pressed her hand to her belly, trying to quiet it, and turned her head to look at Hope.
"So, what now?" she asked, her voice rough from the cold air. "We just walk in there and start asking about the guy in this photo?"
Hope gave a small nod, his cloak shifting as he moved. "Yes. Someone in this town might know who he is. Just stay close to me."
Kena let out a short, sharp laugh. "Like I'd wander off in this crazy place," she said, rolling her eyes.
She reached into her damp pocket and pulled out the soggy photo she'd been carrying.
Her fingers gripped it tightly, keeping it safe. The man in the picture had sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to stare right through her.
She didn't know who he was, but she had to find him. No matter what it took, she would track him down.
Together, they stepped forward into the heart of Elmwick.
The streets were narrow and winding, paved with smooth, shiny stones that caught the glow of the lanterns overhead.
People moved all around them, brushing past in a hurry. Some looked like regular humans, with plain faces and simple clothes.
But others were different—strange in ways Kena couldn't quite believe.
A woman with bright green wings fluttered by, her feathers shimmering as she carried a basket full of glowing, golden fruit.
A man with a long, whip-like tail walked past, flicking it behind him as if it were nothing. Kena's eyes widened, her head spinning as she tried to take it all in.
"This is nuts," she said, her voice low. "Are they all cursed like me? Is that why they're so weird?"
"No," Hope replied calmly, walking beside her. "They're not cursed. They were born here. This place, Velmoria, is their home."
Kena frowned, kicking a small stone with her boot. "Lucky them," she muttered under her breath.
She didn't want this strange land to be her home. She missed her old life—her small bedroom with the creaky bed, her quiet town with its familiar streets, her normal days.
Sure, she hadn't been nice to people back there. She'd snapped at her neighbors and ignored her friends. But it was still home, and she wanted it back.
They kept moving deeper into Elmwick. The crowd grew thicker, pressing in from all sides.
Kena stuck close to Hope, her shoulder brushing against the rough fabric of his cloak.
She didn't like being so near him, but she liked the idea of getting lost in this chaos even less.
A little kid with pointy ears darted past, chasing after a ball that floated on its own, bobbing just out of reach.
Kena jumped to the side to avoid him, her boots slipping on the slick stones. "Watch it, brat," she grumbled, shooting him a glare.
Hope turned his head slightly, glancing at her from under his hood. "You don't like people," he said. It wasn't a question, just a plain fact.
Kena shrugged, her arms crossing over her chest. "People are annoying. They talk too much, or they get in my way. Like you do, sometimes."
He didn't say anything back, but she caught the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, like he was smiling under that mask of his.
Kena narrowed her eyes at him. "What's so funny?" she snapped.
"Nothing," Hope said, his voice steady. "Come on." He turned and kept walking, leading her toward a big building up ahead.
A crooked wooden sign hung over the door, with the word "Tavern" scratched into it.
The noise from inside spilled out onto the street—loud laughter, the clink of glasses, and the twang of music.
As they got closer, the heavy door swung open on its own, letting out a wave of warm air that smelled like roasted meat and fresh bread.
Kena's mouth watered instantly. "Food," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Can we eat? I'm starving."
Hope nodded again. "We'll eat and ask some questions," he said simply.
He stepped through the doorway, and Kena hurried after him, her boots thudding against the wooden floor.
The tavern was bursting with life. Long wooden tables stretched across the wide room, packed with people eating and drinking.
Some had horns curling from their heads, others had scales glinting on their skin, but they all seemed happy, their voices loud and cheerful.
In one corner, a woman with bright blue hair played a flute, the notes dancing through the air like they had a life of their own.
Kena stared at her for a moment, then shook her head hard. She didn't have time to gawk at every weird thing in this place.
Hope found an empty spot at one of the tables and sat down, his cloak pooling around him.
Kena dropped onto the bench next to him, her wet clothes sticking to the wood. She shifted uncomfortably, but didn't complain.
A big man with a thick, bushy beard walked over to them, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "What'll you have?" he asked, his voice deep and gruff.
"Food," Kena said quickly. "Anything hot."
"Two bowls of stew," Hope added, his tone calm. "And some bread."
The man gave a short nod and shuffled off toward the back. Kena leaned back against the table, her stomach growling so loud she was sure Hope could hear it.
"This better be good," she said, crossing her arms again.
"It will be," Hope replied, sounding sure of himself.
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a single coin, setting it down on the table.
It was gold and shiny, with a strange symbol carved into it that Kena didn't recognize.
She reached out to grab it, curious, but Hope slid it out of her reach with a quick flick of his hand.
"Not yours," he said firmly.
"Fine," she huffed, slumping back.
She dug the photo out of her pocket instead and laid it flat on the table in front of her. The man's sharp eyes stared up at her again.
"So, how do we find him?" she asked, tapping the picture with her finger.
Hope glanced down at it. "We ask around. Someone here might know who he is."
Just then, the bearded man came back, carrying two steaming bowls of stew and a crusty loaf of bread.
The rich smell of meat and spices filled the air, and the bread was still warm from the oven.
Kena grabbed a spoon and started eating right away, not even waiting for it to cool.
The stew was thick and hearty, bursting with flavor—bits of tender meat, soft potatoes, and a warm, spicy broth that heated her from the inside.
She shoveled it into her mouth, not caring that some of it dripped onto her chin. It was the best thing she'd ever tasted, hands down.
Hope ate more slowly, his spoon moving carefully as he watched the room.
He didn't seem to mind the noise or the crowd, his eyes scanning every face. When they both finished, he waved the bearded man back over.
"We're looking for someone," Hope said, pointing at the photo on the table. "Do you know him?"
The man leaned down, squinting at the picture with his bushy eyebrows furrowed.
"Looks familiar," he said after a moment. "Might be one of the Veldrics. They're a big deal around here—royals, you know."
"Royals?" Kena said, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth. A drop of stew plopped back into her bowl. "Like a prince or something?"
"Maybe," the man said with a shrug. "They live in the Golden City, way off from Elmwick. It's a tough place to get to, that's for sure."
Kena groaned, letting her spoon clatter into the empty bowl. "Great. More walking. Just what I wanted."
Hope thanked the man with a nod and stood up, brushing off his cloak.
"We'll head there tomorrow," he said, looking down at Kena. "For now, we rest tonight."
"Rest where?" she asked, pushing herself up from the bench. Her legs felt heavy, and her wet clothes dragged at her.
"There's an inn upstairs," Hope said. "I've got enough for a room."
Kena nodded, too tired to argue. The stew had filled her stomach, but her whole body ached from the long day—the cold river, the sticky mud, the endless walking.
"Okay," she said, her voice softer than usual. "But don't think this means I like you or anything."
Hope's eyes crinkled again, that same almost-smile. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said lightly.
They climbed a creaky old staircase at the back of the tavern, the wood groaning under their feet.
It led to a small, plain room with two narrow beds pushed against the walls.
Kena didn't even look around—she just flopped onto the closest bed, her muddy boots still on.
The mattress was lumpy, but she didn't care. Hope sat down on the other bed, his cloak settling around him.
He didn't take off his mask, and Kena watched him for a second, wondering why he kept his face hidden.
But her eyelids grew heavy, drooping with every breath. She clutched the photo tight in her hand, the edges digging into her palm.
Soon, sleep pulled her under, deep and dreamless.
Outside, the floating lanterns bobbed in the night air, casting their soft glow over Elmwick.
The town hummed with life, its strange secrets whispering through the streets. Kena didn't understand this place—not yet—but it held answers she needed.
For now, though, she slept, the photo her only tether to the world she'd left behind.
The next morning came too fast. Kena woke to the sound of voices drifting up from the tavern below—laughter and chatter that grated on her nerves.
She sat up slowly, her body stiff and sore. The room was dim, with only a sliver of light sneaking through a cracked window.
Hope was already awake, sitting on his bed, his mask still in place. He looked at her as she rubbed her eyes.
"Ready?" he asked.
Kena groaned again, louder this time. "No," she said, but she swung her legs off the bed anyway.
Her boots left muddy smears on the blanket, and she didn't bother to clean them. "Let's just get this over with."
Hope stood, pulling his cloak tighter around him. "The Golden City isn't close," he said. "It'll take time."
"Fantastic," Kena muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
She shoved the photo back into her pocket and followed him out of the room, her steps heavy on the rickety stairs.
Back in the tavern, the crowd was thinner, but the air still smelled of food and smoke.
Kena's stomach growled again, even after the stew from last night. She ignored it and stuck close to Hope as they stepped outside.
The streets of Elmwick were just as busy as before, filled with winged women, tailed men, and kids with floating toys.
Kena kept her head down, dodging the chaos as they made their way out of town.
The road ahead stretched long and wide, disappearing into the distance. Somewhere out there was the Golden City—and maybe the man with the sharp eyes.
Kena didn't know what she'd say when she found him, but she'd figure it out. For now, she walked, her boots kicking up dust, Hope's quiet steps beside her.
The lanterns of Elmwick faded behind them, and Velmoria opened up ahead, wild and unknown.