Whispers of Change

The fire crackles, sending up occasional sparks into the cool night air. The scent of salt lingers on the breeze, mingling with the distant aroma of fish being grilled somewhere near the docks.

The conversation has slowed, but the weight of it still lingers between us.

Elias leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes flicking between the faces around the fire. "Alright," he says, voice thoughtful. "So we know where we are now. Sort of. And we know what's around us. But…"

He tilts his head slightly. "What about Velia? What's happening here?"

Joran hums, tossing another stick into the fire. "Depends on what you mean by 'happening.'"

"Trouble," Elias clarifies.

That catches Seraphine's attention.

She exhales, rolling her shoulders. "There's always trouble. But if you're talking recent trouble, then yeah. There's been some… concerns."

I frown. "What kind of concerns?"

Seraphine exchanges a glance with Isolde before answering. "We've had more sightings of creatures near the roads. Usually, it's nothing too serious—wolves, wild boars, the occasional aggressive deer. But lately… something's changed."

I straighten slightly. "Changed how?"

Seraphine's expression darkens. "More sightings of Imps."

Elias frowns. "Imps?"

Joran sighs. "Nasty little things. Not quite monsters, not quite human. But enough of a problem when they start gathering in numbers."

I blink. "Are they intelligent?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'intelligent,'" Isolde says, rubbing the back of her neck. "They're not mindless beasts. They use weapons—crudely made spears, clubs, slingshots. Sometimes they even have crude armour. They can organize when they want to. And that's the problem."

Elias and I exchange a glance.

"Imps have always been in the forests east of here," Seraphine continues. "But lately, there have been more of them. More attacks on trade wagons. More sightings closer to Velia's outskirts."

Joran grunts. "It's bad for business, that's for damn sure."

I fold my arms. "Is there a reason for it? Something driving them closer?"

Seraphine exhales, shaking her head. "We don't know. Could be food scarcity. Could be someone—or something—riling them up."

Elias hums, thoughtful. "And how serious is this problem? Are they attacking people directly?"

Seraphine hesitates. Then—

"Not yet," she admits. "But we're watching closely. If it gets worse… well, that's why I'm here."

Her gaze lingers on me for a moment.

A silent offer.

A hint of something more.

I file it away.

Because for now, there is more to learn.

——

Elias tilts his head. "And what about trade? If things are getting more dangerous, are the merchants still running routes?"

Joran grins, but there's a sharpness to it. "Trade never stops, my friend. It just adapts."

I glance at him. "Meaning?"

"Meaning routes shift. Prices rise. Risk increases, but so do opportunities," Joran explains. "You just have to know where to look."

Elias hums. "And where should we be looking?"

Joran leans back, tapping a finger against his knee. "Alright, listen close. Velia isn't just some random fishing village—it's a key trade stop for merchants moving goods between the coast and the inland provinces. That means several important trade points nearby."

He raises a finger. "First, there's Western Guard Camp—east of here, along the road toward Heidel. It's a military outpost, but plenty of traders stop there before heading further inland. Good for general supplies and basic trade."

Another finger. "Then there's the Coastal Cave just south of us. Smugglers used to run operations there, but now? Some traders still use it as an unofficial storage site. Risky, but sometimes worth it if you need a no-questions-asked kind of deal."

A third finger. "And then, of course, there's Bartali Farm to the north—a major supplier of grain, vegetables, and livestock. If you're looking to get into food trading, that's the place to start."

Elias nods slowly. "So those are our best options if we want to make money?"

"Legally?" Joran smirks. "Yes."

Elias raises an eyebrow. "And illegally?"

Joran winks. "Depends on how much you like gambling with the law."

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Elias looks far too interested.

——

"So," Isolde muses, watching us carefully. "What's next for you two? Going to stick around in Velia?"

Elias exhales, rolling his shoulders. "Haven't decided yet."

I hum in agreement. "We needed information first."

Seraphine nods. "Well, now you have it. But be careful where you step. Velia's peaceful for now, but that doesn't mean it'll stay that way."

Joran stretches, standing. "And if you ever want to get into the trade business, you know where to find me."

Elias smirks. "You just want a cut of our profits."

Joran laughs, slapping Elias on the back. "Damn right I do."

Isolde shakes her head. "Alright, enough talk. The night's getting late."

Elias and I stand as well, the weight of everything we've learned settling in our minds.

As we part ways, heading back toward our temporary shelter, Elias lets out a low whistle.

"Well," he muses. "That was a lot."

I exhale. "A lot to think about."

He grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And a lot of ways to make money."

I roll my eyes. "Of course that's what you focus on."

"Hey, we can't just live off air, can we?"

I huff but don't argue.

Because for once—he's right.

We have choices now.

Paths to take.

And soon—we will have to decide.