Chapter 25: Castelnero

On the final night at sea, the crew decided to celebrate.

It wasn't a grand affair just a gathering on the deck, barrels of beers opened, laughter ringing out over the waves. The sailors sang, shared stories, and drank as if tomorrow didn't exist.

Juhtmed, however, didn't share in the revelry.

Neither did Lian.

While the others clinked their mugs and danced across the deck, Juhtmed sat on the outskirts of the gathering, watching. The energy was infectious, but he couldn't bring himself to join in.

"You look like someone at a funeral," Jaska noted, flopping down beside him with a grin.

Juhtmed exhaled through his nose. "I just feel tired."

Jaska chuckled. "You'll miss this when it's over."

Juhtmed wasn't sure about that. He had spent enough time swaying on this cursed boat to last him a lifetime. But as he watched the sailors—people who had spent their lives braving the sea, laughing as if it were their closest friend—he wondered if there was something he was missing.

Lian sat a few feet away, arms crossed, equally silent.

She caught him looking and shrugged. "Drunk men are loud. Nothing worth joining."

Juhtmed nodded in agreement.

Tomorrow, they would reach land.

Tomorrow, this journey would end.

And another would begin.

Morning came with the scent of salt and a horizon unlike any they had seen before.

Land.

The Island loomed ahead, a sprawling port far larger than Juhtmed had expected. From a distance, he could already see the tall ships moored along the harbor—sleek, elegant vessels marked with noble insignias. The docks were alive with movement, even this early in the morning. Sailors, merchants, and laborers bustled about, shouting orders and loading cargo.

The ship pulled into the harbor, the crew working swiftly to dock. Juhtmed stood at the railing, watching the organized chaos of the port below. The reality of it settled in—soon, he would be off this ship for good.

And he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Once the ship was secured, Juhtmed turned to face the crew.

He hadn't known them long. Hadn't even spoken to some of them beyond brief exchanges.

And yet…

It felt strange to leave.

Jaska was the first to step forward, grinning as always. "Well, prince, looks like this is where we part ways."

Juhtmed scoffed. "I already told you to not call me like that"

Jaska smirked. "And yet, you do have the attitude of one."

Juhtmed rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. "Try not to get yourself thrown overboard the next time you annoy someone."

Jaska laughed. "I can't promises."

Lian gave the crew a small nod before stepping onto the dock. Juhtmed followed, his boots hitting solid ground for the first time in days. The dock beneath him didn't move. It didn't sway.

It was real.

And yet, as he looked around, he realized just how vast everything was.

The harbor stretched farther than he had thought, dozens of piers extending into the water, lined with ships both grand and rugged. Sailors and deckhands were on the moved. The air was thick with the light scent of salt.

Lian adjusted the bag on her shoulder. "I'll find us a carriage your highness."

Before Juhtmed could respond, she was gone, disappearing into the moving crowds.

Leaving him standing alone on the dock.

Juhtmed stood alone on the dock, watching the constant movement around him. It was unlike anything he had seen before—loud, alive. Dockworkers hauled crates, merchants argued over prices, and sailors shouted to one another from the ships. The salty air mixed with the scent damp wood, and the occasional waft of something sweet from a nearby stall.

Lian returned a few minutes later, weaving effortlessly through the bustling crowd. "I have found a carriage, your highness" she announced. "It'll take us to the city."

Juhtmed nodded and followed her. The carriage was a sturdy, well-worn vehicle drawn by two dark-coated horses. The coachman, a gruff-looking older man with a thick beard, gave them a curt nod before gesturing for them to climb inside.

As they settled into the cushioned seats, the carriage jolted forward, wheels rattling against the wooden planks of the dock before rolling onto the dirt path leading inland.

Juhtmed let out a slow breath, leaning back against the seat. "So, what now?"

Lian crossed her arms. "We have a day before we need to be at the academy. That gives us time to see the city."

"A day, huh?" Juhtmed glanced out the small window. "Might as well make use of it."

The coachman spoke without turning around. "You'll like Castelnero. It's not like the other cities."

The ride continued in silence after that, the occasional bump in the road jolting them slightly. Juhtmed watched as the port town gave way to open roads, then to the towering walls of their destination.

Castelnero.

The gates loomed ahead, guarded by armored sentries who barely spared their carriage a glance. As they passed through, the city unfolded before them.

The scent of saltwater still lingered in the air, but it was soon overtaken by something richer—the aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats. Narrow cobblestone streets twisted and turned, lined with colorful buildings that bore the marks of different cultures. Some had sloped roofs with intricate carvings, others displayed grand archways and tiled mosaics.

The streets were alive. Merchants shouted their wares, smiths hammered steel, children wove through the crowd in play. Every corner held something different—musicians strumming lively tunes, street performers juggling knives, kid in deep discussion beneath the shade of a balcony.

A true melting pot.

As the carriage slowed, Juhtmed stepped out, taking in the sheer energy of the city.

For the first time since leaving the ship, he felt something close to excitement.

Juhtmed eyes scanning the crowd. Castelnero was a city unlike any he had seen before. It had a raw energy, an unpolished charm that made it feel truly alive. The streets pulsed with activity—merchants shouting their wares, children darting between carts, and the occasional group of nobles walking with an air of detached elegance.

Lian stepped up beside him. "Welcome to Castelnero."

He huffed. "It's… bigger than I expected."

She smirked. "Overwhelmed already?"

"Just taking it in," he muttered, though he wouldn't admit that the sheer scale of it was slightly dizzying. The academy they were supposed to reach tomorrow was important, but for now, they had a full day to explore.

The coachman gave them a nod before flicking the reins, guiding his horses back onto the road. Juhtmed watched the carriage roll away before turning his attention to Lian.

"What's the plan?" he asked.

Lian scanned the streets, thoughtful. "We'll need an inn first. Can't spend the night outside."

"Fair enough."

They began walking, weaving through the thick crowd. Every turn brought something new—stalls selling exotic spices, craftsmen working on fine leather, and even a corner where a group of people were gathered around a storyteller, hanging onto his every word.

Juhtmed noticed the variety of faces around them. Some bore the sharp features of northern merchants, others had the tan kissed skin of desert traders. He even caught glimpses of armored knights, their cloaks embroidered with symbols he didn't recognize. Castelnero truly was a place where different culture collided.

They found an inn after a short walk—The Silver Drake. A sturdy building with a painted wooden sign swinging above the entrance. Inside, the scent of roasted meat and ale filled the air, and the murmur of conversation hummed beneath it. A few people glanced their way as they stepped in, but no one paid them much mind.

Lian approached the innkeeper, a broad-shouldered woman with graying hair tied back in a loose bun. "We need a room for the night."

The woman gave them a once-over. "Coin first."

Lian pulled a small pouch from her belt and handed over a few silver pieces. The woman nodded, sliding a key across the counter. "Second floor. Third door on the left."

Juhtmed took the key, and they headed upstairs. Their room was simple but clean—a sturdy bed, a small table, and a narrow window that overlooked the bustling streets below.

Lian dropped her bag onto the floor. "Alright. Now we can see the city properly."

Juhtmed leaned against the window, watching the people below. "Where do we start?"

Lian smirked. "We've got one day. It will be good to know the area."

Juhtmed stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders as he stepped away from the window. "Fine."

They left the inn and stepped back into the bustling streets. The midday sun, was casting golden light over the city, illuminating the worn cobblestones and the colorful banners strung between buildings.

Lian led the way, moving with the ease of someone who belonged anywhere. Juhtmed, on the other hand, found himself constantly glancing around, taking in the city's many details. The variety of people, the scents of unfamiliar foods, the strange symbols carved into stone doorways—all of it made Castelnero feel almost otherworldly.

They passed by a row of market stalls where vendors called out to passersby. One of them, an older man with a thick mustache, waved them over. His stall was filled with delicate glass bottles, each containing a swirling liquid of different colors.

"I can see that your new to the city." he asked, eyeing them with a knowing look.

"Were just passing through," Lian answered.

"Then you must take something for the road!" The man grabbed a bottle filled with deep blue liquid and held it up. "This is 'Siren's Whisper.' A rare drink from the southern isles! One sip, and you'll swear you can hear the ocean calling your name!"

Juhtmed raised a brow. "Sounds like poison."

The man let out a hearty laugh. "That depends on how much you drink!"

Lian smirked, tossing the man a single coin. "We'll take one."

Juhtmed shot her a look. "Really?"

She shrugged. "Might as well try something local."

They continued on their way, winding their way through the winding streets of the town. At one point, they passed a blacksmith's forge, where sparks flew as a burly man hammered away at a glowing piece of steel. Further on, a group of children ran past them, laughing as they weaved in and out of the pedestrians.

Eventually, they reached a large open square. At its centre stood an imposing stone monument, a statue of three warriors in armor, their swords pointed downwards, as if they were keeping silent vigil. The base of the statue was covered with worn engravings, words in a language Juhtmed couldn't read.

Lian studied it for a moment. "This city has a long history of war."

Juhtmed folded his arms. "Most places do."

She glanced at him. "Perhaps. But Castelnero is different. It wasn't built by one kingdom—it was fought over by three, each claiming it as their own before the peace was reached. That's why it feels so… mixed."

Juhtmed looked around again, this time seeing the city through a different lens. The varied architecture, the blended cultures—it wasn't just trade that had shaped this place. It was conflict.

Before he could say anything, a commotion broke out on the far side of the plaza. A group of people had gathered in a loose circle, their voices raised in excitement.

Lian tilted her head. "Want to see what that's about?"

Juhtmed sighed. "You're not going to let this day be quiet, are you?"

She grinned. "Not a chance."

They pushed their way through the crowd, stepping into the unknown once more.