The putrid stench of rotting fish and saltwater bile clung to the back of Lion's throat as he gripped the railing of the Blackfin, his stomach churning. The smuggler's ship was a patchwork monstrosity—its hull scarred with haphazard repairs, its sails stained with suspicious brown splotches that reeked of old blood.
"Done puking? Get to work!" Calvin kicked an empty barrel toward him, his voice a gravelly snarl. "Unless you fancy being shark bait when the crew gets restless."
Wiping his mouth, Lion staggered toward the stern where Selene stood conversing with the captain—a hulking brute with a golden-toothed grin and one milky eye. Her fingers traced a faint, flickering sigil in the air between them. The captain's remaining eye widened, his gold teeth clicking together sharply.
"...'Firekiss' Selene?" His tone shifted abruptly, laced with something between awe and fear. "Thought you died three years—"
"Shut it, Old Shark." She extinguished the flame with a snap of her fingers. "Dragon Isle. Before the eclipse."
The captain rubbed his tattooed wrists. "The waters there are crawling with the Conclave's phantom ships now, not to mention the dragonkin patrols—"
Selene unhooked a pouch from her belt, spilling three pulsating crimson gems onto the deck. They hummed unnaturally as they rolled, leaving faint, glowing trails. The captain's breath hitched.
"Bloodmarrow crystals..." He reached greedily—only for Selene to slam her boot down, crushing his fingers beneath the heel.
"A ship," she hissed, "and ward-charms strong enough to fool a dragon's nose."
The captain's grin returned, gold flashing under the sickly moonlight. "Done. But there's a... complication." He pointed toward the smudge of darkness on the horizon—a port city carved into the cliffs, its skyline choked with blood-red haze. The lighthouse burned with eerie green flames, and the wreckage of ships bobbed in the harbor, their smoke twisting into screaming faces.
"They slaughtered Bloodport?" Calvin's grip tightened on his greatsword, his lone eye flickering with rare unease. "Hearteaters only hunt mages."
The captain leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Word is, this one's different. Likes her meat fresh and beating." His gaze slid to Lion. "Especially the... exotic varieties."
The Blackfin slipped into port under cover of dusk. The docks were unnaturally silent, the only sound the hollow thunk of waves against rotting wood. The air stank of rust—no, Lion realized with a chill—dried blood.
"Split up." Selene pressed a flame-charm into Lion's palm. "I'll secure the wards. Calvin, find a shipwright to reinforce the hull." She hesitated. "You—gather supplies. Quietly."
Alone in the corpse-littered streets, Lion's shadow-vision revealed horrors in vivid detail: arterial sprays across storefronts, severed fingers arranged in mocking patterns, piles of bodies outside the tavern—all with identical, gaping chest cavities where their hearts had been neatly extracted.
The general store's door hung ajar. Lion's boot sank into something wet—a intricate blood-marring the floorboards, seven still-twitching hearts arranged at its center.
"Ah. Finally."
The voice came from above. Lion looked up to see a small figure perched on the rafters like a grotesque songbird. She dropped soundlessly, her bare feet splashing in gore. A girl—swamped in an oversized black robe, her face hidden save for a smile that split her face ear-to-ear, revealing rows of needle-like teeth.
"I've tasted twenty-three hearts tonight," she cooed, voice dripping with saccharine malice. "But none as... delectable as yours." She inhaled deeply, shuddering with pleasure. "Shadow royalty. Exquisite."
Lion's shadows coiled defensively—only to recoil as the girl flicked her wrist, dispersing them like cobwebs in a gale.
"Don't fret, little prince. You're not today's meal." She circled him, her steps unnaturally light. "Marlene, the Conclave's Lead Connoisseur~ Sent to assess the 'Flamekiss's' progress." Her ice-cold nose brushed his jugular. "But no one mentioned dessert..."
Lion's dagger flashed—and passed through empty air. Marlene materialized behind him, her claw-like fingers tracing his spine. "Didn't Selene tell you?" Her breath was oddly minty, like poisoned candy. "Hearteaters feast on fear." Her tongue darted out, licking a fang. "And yours... reeks of Dragon Isle."
The back wall exploded.
Selene's blackfire erupted through the debris like a striking serpent. Marlene giggled, her robe billowing like bat wings as she vaulted upward. "Firekiss! You've grown spicier~"
Silent, Selene wove a cage of flames—but Marlene's body liquefied, oozing between the bars to vanish into the floorboards. Her final whisper clung to the air:
"When the moon bleeds, the dragons will come for your souls... especially yours, princeling~"
On the floor, the seven hearts burst simultaneously, their blood mist forming words that hung like a curse:
[ALL VESSELS SHATTER]