The small group then crossed the village toward the docks. Judging by the number of huts, there couldn’t have been more than a hundred inhabitants at most. The village was beautiful and so peaceful. At this hour in Potalu, the taverns were packed, and the raucous chatter spilling out of them echoed between the tall buildings. Here, the soft sound of the waves embraced the village's silence, almost as if to lull it to sleep. Even the salty sea air was more pleasant here than at Potalu’s southern port. For a brief moment, Ori even forgot that he hated the smell of fish—until he got closer to the docks, at least.

The docks were surprisingly well-lit for the time of night, and as Harold had said, a small group had gathered there. About fifteen fishermen, dressed in loose trousers and rope shawls, stood at the end of a wooden pier.

They all looked rather troubled, and their discussion seemed heated.

“Dis ain’t right! We can’t jus’ sit back and let this happen!” shouted one of them.
“Y’don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout! I’m tellin’ ya, it’s Ichi tellin’ us to change our ways! It’s a divine sign!” replied another.
“Divine, my arse! Ichi never cared ‘bout us fishin’ for centuries, so why now, eh?”
As the group moved closer to the pier, they spotted a woman in her thirties standing up among the fishermen, holding some ropes in her hands.

“Shut it, you bunch of fools.”
She wasn’t very tall, but the fishermen stepped aside to let her through, clearly listening to her as she spoke. Unlike the others, her manner of speaking was sharper, more assertive. Raising the ropes, she showed them to the group.

“This here? This is sabotage. So it ain’t Ichi or some creature. Someone is targeting our boats. And I’ll find out who it is. Oscar, you’re on first watch tonight. Lima, you’ll take over until morning.”
“A watch?!”
The two fishermen she called out responded in unison, wide-eyed.

“Ugh! I’m surrounded by idiots…” she groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

At that moment, Ozan cautiously stepped forward, clearly terrified of the woman.

“Uh… uh… hi, Auntie,” he stammered. “Maybe we can help…”
The woman turned toward the group, visibly annoyed. She took a deep breath, as if preparing to yell, but stopped herself. Her face, initially filled with anger and exasperation, softened with sadness and disappointment as she looked at Ozan.

“So, you’re back already? Go see your uncle. I’ll handle this and join you later.”
“But we could hel—”
“What did I just say?!” she interrupted sharply.

Ozan hunched his shoulders and turned back toward the village.

“Let’s go grab a bite,” he muttered.

Ori stepped closer to him. “Are you sure?”
“She hates repeating herself,” Ozan replied. “There’s no point arguing when she’s like that.”

Nochi placed a large, reassuring hand on Ozan’s shoulder.

“Well, it works out, eh? We’re all starvin’ anyway, so let’s go eat, yeah?”
He turned to the group, who nodded in agreement, and they headed toward a large hut in the heart of the village.

Inside, a hearth warmed the room, and a pleasant aroma wafted from a pot hanging above the fire. A man in his thirties, with deep green eyes, was stoking the flames. When he saw the group enter, he froze and smiled warmly.

“Well, look who it is! Glad t’see ya.”
“Hi, Uncle… One outta two… Guess that’s somethin’,” Ozan muttered.

“You saw your aunt?”
Ozan nodded silently as he ushered his companions inside. His uncle gave him a knowing smile.

“Ah, ya know how she is. But I’m sure she’s glad you’re safe. Name’s Firens, by the way. Come warm up, food’ll be ready soon.”
“Thank you so much, sir,” said Flore politely. “It’s very kind of you to welcome us.”

“Aw, lass! No need for all that politeness here. We’re simple folk, we Magus. We take in everyone, we share… long as you respect Ichi and his principles, everythin’s fine.”
“That’s your god, right?” Ori asked, intrigued. “What are his principles?”

“Well, uh… kinda long t’explain,” Ozan interjected. “But basically, it’s all ‘bout respectin’ nature.”
“That’s why we’re not so fond o’ Barus, y’see,” Firens added, nodding toward Kuwa. “But if yer Ozan’s friends, you must be good folk.”
“What a warm welcome…” Kuwa muttered.

“Oh, quit yer whinin’, ya rustbucket,” Nochi interrupted with a grin. “We’re gettin’ food, aren’t we?”
“Enough, you two!” Ylva stepped between them.

“Don’t worry,” Kuwa grumbled. “I won’t start anything on an empty stomach. But tell me, Uncle, what’s in the pot?”

“Fish stew. I was waitin’ for Sora, but go ahead and dig in. She should be here soon, anyway.”
“She was sortin’ out issues at the docks,” Ozan said as he sat by the fire, followed by the rest of the group. “What’s goin’ on with the boats, anyway?”

“They’re disappearin’. Dunno how, but four are gone already. Folks are startin’ to worry. Without the boats, we can’t fish, and without fish, we can’t eat.”

“I see,” Kuwa said thoughtfully. “And you have no idea who might be behind this? Bandits, perhaps? A rivalry within the village—or even with another village?”

“No Magus would do this. It’s against our principles. Some think our god, Ichi, is behind it. But that don’t make sense to me. The elders say we haven’t had signs from him in centuries. Besides, he always acts through the ultimate Magus, so we’d know if it were him.”

At that moment, the door slammed open, revealing Ozan’s aunt, Sora, looking utterly exhausted. She shut the door behind her and slumped into a chair by the fire.

“I’m back… And so are you, huh? Too ashamed to go back to your father, is that it? I thought you were off on some GRAND adventure, wouldn’t be back anytime soon. That you didn’t need help, that you’d show us all how strong you are…”

Ozan avoided her gaze, visibly uncomfortable.

“I’m not back!” he exclaimed, his tone defensive. “There was an incident in Potalu, and we need to get to Isse, so… I thought we could borrow a boat.”

Ylva chimed in, “But it was clearly a mistake. You have no ships for us, and we’re in a hurry, so we’ll just spend the night here and leave tomorrow.”

“Wait, Ylva,” Ozan interjected. “We could help them. They’re my family, after all.”

“Let the adults talk,” Sora cut him off sharply. “We don’t need your help. We’re managing just fine. Stay as long as you want, but you’ll have to use your own supplies. The village can’t feed you.”

“But Sora,” Firens started, “we’ve got enough reserves, we can easily—”

“Firens!” she interrupted. “No boats mean no fishing. No fishing means no reserves. And if we dip into our reserves recklessly, we won’t make it through the winter. My job is to ensure every villager here survives. And they—” she pointed at the group—“are not villagers.”

With that, she grabbed a bowl of soup and left the room. Firens turned to the group with an apologetic look.

“I’ll go talk to her. You lot, eat up.”

“No, Uncle!” Ozan stood abruptly. “Let me talk to Aunt Sora.”

“Are you sure?” Ylva asked. “She doesn’t seem to hold you in high regard.”

“She seems like a strong woman,” Flore added admiringly. “Maybe you should speak to her, Ylva.”

“It would be a waste of time,” Ylva replied. “We need to get to Isse quickly, even if it means traveling to the next coastal town to find a boat.”

Ozan moved toward the door Sora had exited through. “The fastest way to get a boat is to convince her we can help—and solve the problem. That way, she’ll owe us.” He mumbled under his breath, “And I’ll prove it to her…” Then he stepped outside.

“Bold kid, takin’ her on like that,” Nochi remarked, already helping himself to a bowl of stew.

“You gotta understand…” Firens sighed as he sat down heavily. “She was an adventurer once too. But her comrades died. So when the boy came here to train for his travels, it didn’t sit well with her.”

“That’s understandable,” Flore said gently. “She’s worried about him.”

“And she’s got every reason to be,” Firens replied. “He was born in a village of plant Magus only.”

“So what?” Kuwa asked.

“Well, normally when both parents share the same attribute, the child does too. But not him. Not only did Ozan discover his powers way later than other kids, but they weren’t ‘the right kind.’ No one in his village could train him. So his parents sent him here to learn.”

“I see,” Kuwa said, frowning. “So he grew up being told he was strange and didn’t belong. Typical. So much for respecting the natural order.” Steam began to escape from Kuwa’s mechanical arm. “I’m going for a walk,” he muttered, visibly agitated.

“I really worry about him,” Firens continued. “His aunt might be tough on him, but she’s not wrong. Adventure is dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, Firens,” Flore said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’s got us with him.” She glanced at Ylva and Nochi, who was now sprawled on his back, fast asleep. “And your nephew is strong too. You’ll see.”

Ori, who had been silent until now, added, “At least he has powers. That’s more than some people can say.”

At that moment, the door opened, and Sora’s voice rang out.

“Do whatever you want, but stay out of my way!” she snapped, slamming the door behind a trembling Ozan.

“Well, at least we’ve got permission to investigate,” he muttered, shrugging. “I guess that—”

BOOM!

An explosion echoed through the village.

“That’s the General!” Ylva exclaimed, leaping to her feet.
“Let’s go!” Ori shouted.

The group rushed out of the cabin.