The city smelled of wet stone and old smoke when Nora woke.
For a moment she thought the night at Pier Thirteen had been a bad dream. But the crescent shimmer beneath her wrist said otherwise. It was faint now, like a bruise hidden under the skin, but she could still feel it.. a quiet pulse that matched her heartbeat.
She pulled her sleeve down and went about her morning routine as if nothing had changed. The kettle hissed. The rain dripped through the leak in the window frame. She kept her blade close at hand, hidden beneath the table.
When she stepped outside, the streets were slick with last night's storm. Word had already spread. Dockhands were muttering about the "lights in the water" and a "thing that screamed like the tide itself." Nobody had seen her at the pier, which was good.
But people noticed things. And they noticed her, too.
At the courier hub, Jalen was already leaning against the counter, arms crossed. He was a few years older than her, all rough edges and sharp eyes.
"You hear about the pier?" he asked as she passed.
"Everyone's heard about the pier," she said, keeping her voice even.
"They say someone saw a man with a sword down there." Jalen tilted his head at her. "Figures it'd be some Riftbound type. Always drawn to trouble."
The word made her stomach tighten, but she forced a shrug. "Sounds like dockside gossip to me."
He grunted, unconvinced, and handed her a bundle of parcels.
By midday, the streets were thick with rumor. A barge had gone missing beyond the harbor wall. A boy in the next district had vanished in the night, leaving only a faint crescent burn on his wrist.
Near the market square, Nora paused when she saw a notice being nailed to the damp boards of the announcement wall. The paper bore the seal of the city watch.
To all citizens:
Be alert for signs of the Riftbound.
Report unusual marks or sudden disappearances.
The rift is not to be approached without sanction.
She stared at the notice a heartbeat too long before moving on. The streets were full of people glancing sideways at their neighbors, pulling sleeves lower over their wrists.
That evening, as the sky darkened into storm clouds again, Nora found herself standing by the sea wall. She didn't remember deciding to go there. The pull wasn't strong, only a faint awareness like a distant echo.
She wasn't alone.
A boy about her age stood near the railing, his hands shoved into the pockets of a torn jacket. His hair was still damp from the rain. He didn't look at her, just at the horizon.
"You feel it too," he said, as if commenting on the weather.
Nora hesitated. "Feel what?"
"The tide. The way it calls." He finally turned his head, and she saw a thin silver crescent gleaming faintly at the base of his throat. "You're one of us now."
Before she could answer, the wind shifted. Across the black water, faint sparks of violet light shimmered and vanished as quickly as they came. The boy's expression didn't change.
"They say it's waking again," he murmured. "And when it fully opens, it won't just take us. It'll bring more of its world here."
He glanced at her once more, an almost knowing look. "See you on the other side."
Then he turned and disappeared into the rain-soaked crowd.
Nora stayed by the wall until the cold seeped into her bones.
The city behind her felt smaller now, as if the streets themselves were waiting for something to break.
She pressed her sleeve over the mark on her wrist. It had started to burn, faintly but insistently, as the violet sparks flared again far out at sea.