Limitless Seas

Ethan stayed on the docks long after Jade and the old man walked away. The sounds of workers loading crates and shouting orders faded into the background as he sat there, staring at the water. His body still ached from the fight with Darius, but that wasn't what bothered him.

The plan was simple, maybe too simple. A few wrong moves, and they were dead or worse—captured. He sighed, rubbing his face. He had no choice. If he wanted to get stronger, he had to take risks. Staying on this island wasn't an option.

He pushed off the crate and started walking. If he was going to do this, he needed to be ready.

---

The marketplace was packed, but Ethan moved through it like a ghost. Merchants called out deals, children weaved between stalls, and pickpockets worked the crowd. He ignored it all.

His sword was barely decent. It had served him well enough against Darius, but if something went wrong tomorrow night, he needed something better.

A blacksmith's stall caught his eye. Rows of swords, axes, and daggers gleamed under the fading sunlight. He stepped closer, pretending to browse.

"Looking for something specific?"

Ethan turned. The blacksmith, a burly man with burn scars on his arms, watched him with knowing eyes.

"Just looking," Ethan said.

The blacksmith scoffed. "You don't have the coin for these."

Ethan ignored the insult. "Know anywhere I can get a decent weapon for cheap?"

The blacksmith smirked. "Cheap usually means stolen."

Ethan kept his face neutral. "I just need something that won't break in a fight."

The blacksmith studied him for a moment, then jerked his head toward an alley. "Check behind the butcher's shop. You might find what you're looking for."

Ethan didn't ask questions. He nodded and walked off.

---

Behind the butcher's shop, he found a small outdoor stand selling old weapons. The seller, a wiry man with shifty eyes, leaned against a stack of crates, watching him closely.

Ethan scanned the pile of rusted swords, broken daggers, and dented axes. Most were useless, but then he spotted a cutlass buried beneath the junk. The blade was dull, but the balance felt right in his grip.

"That one's ten silver," the seller said, eyeing him.

Ethan didn't have ten silver.

"Five," Ethan countered.

The seller snorted. "Seven, and that's me being nice."

Ethan sighed and handed over his last coins. He'd worry about food later.

He tested the cutlass, giving it a few swings. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. He strapped it to his side and moved on.

---

Weapons weren't enough—he needed an escape route.

The docks were large, filled with crates, small alleys, and hidden paths. If the job went bad, running blindly wasn't an option. Ethan spent the next hour mapping out possible escape routes in his head.

He noted which alleys were dead ends, which crates were sturdy enough to climb, and which streets led away from the docks. The more he memorized, the better.

By the time he was done, the sky had turned a deep orange. The sun was setting, and the air had grown cooler. It was time to regroup.

---

Ethan made his way back to the meeting spot. The old man and Jade were already waiting.

The old man raised a brow. "Took your time."

Ethan ignored him. "I've got a weapon and an escape plan."

Jade smirked. "And I've got a few surprises of my own."

The old man grinned. "Then we're ready."

Ethan exhaled. The job was tomorrow night.

No turning back now.