The sea wind always arrived before the sun in Greyhaven.
It brought the smell of salt, wet wood, and something else. A scent difficult to describe. Like a house that had been left empty for too long.
Elias stood on the cobblestone road leading to the city harbor.
Thin snow covered the street. Not thick enough to hide old tracks, but enough to make the city look pale.
Greyhaven had once been a bustling city.
This harbor used to be filled with trading ships. People came from everywhere, bringing cloth, metal, stories, and their own troubles.
Now only three ships remained tied to the dock.
One of them already tilted because the ropes holding it had begun to rot.
No one repaired it.
Elias walked slowly through the main street.
Most shops were closed.
Some windows were boarded up with wooden planks. Others were simply left open with cracked glass.
On a bench near the harbor, an old man sat staring at the sea.
He did not move when Elias passed.
There was nothing strange about that. Many people in this city often sat for long periods without purpose.
As if they were waiting for something.
Or someone.
Elias had seen cities like this before.
Not just one or two.
In the last two years he had walked from city to city, carrying a small book that was always in his bag.
He was not a soldier.
Not a hero.
He was only an evangelist too stubborn to stop walking.
Yet even Elias could not ignore one thing that was the same in every city he visited.
The same thing he saw in Greyhaven now.
These people were not merely poor.
They were tired of hoping.
He stopped in front of a small building with a wooden sign that almost hung from its hinges.
The writing on the sign was barely readable.
"The Sailor's Inn."
Elias pushed the door.
A small bell above the door rang weakly.
Inside, the room was half-dark. A small fire burned in the fireplace, but not strong enough to warm the entire room.
Only three people were inside.
A woman behind the counter.
A large man sitting with an empty cup in his hands.
And a young boy drawing something on a wooden table.
The woman looked at Elias.
"You're not from here."
Her voice was flat. Not suspicious. Just tired.
Elias shook his head slightly.
"No."
The woman did not ask further.
She only pointed to the wooden stairs in the corner of the room.
"Room for two coins."
Elias took out two coins from his pocket and placed them on the table.
As he did so, the boy at the table looked at him.
The boy was perhaps ten years old.
His eyes were different from the others in this city.
There was still something there.
Curiosity.
"Are you a preacher?" the boy asked.
Elias smiled slightly.
"Sometimes."
The boy turned his drawing paper and showed it.
The drawing was simple.
The Greyhaven harbor.
But there was something strange.
At the end of the dock, the boy had drawn a tall black figure standing near the water.
Elias felt something uncomfortable in his chest.
"Why did you draw that?"
The boy shrugged.
"I see it often."
The room became slightly quieter.
The large man in the corner stopped moving his cup.
The woman behind the counter looked at the boy sharply.
"Don't speak foolishness."
The boy looked down.
Elias said nothing.
But in his mind, one word emerged slowly.
Lament.
He had heard stories about that creature from several other cities.
Creatures that appeared in places where human hope began to die.
Yet most stories sounded like rumors.
Shadows in the mist.
Sounds in the night.
No one was ever certain.
Elias took the drawing paper and looked at it more closely.
The black figure stood at the end of the dock.
Too tall for an ordinary human.
Too thin for a living creature.
Elias returned the paper to the boy.
"What is your name?"
"Luca."
Elias nodded.
"Thank you for showing me."
The boy looked slightly happy.
Like someone who was finally believed.
Elias took his bag and walked toward the stairs.
As he reached the first step, the large man in the corner finally spoke.
"You had best not stay long in this city."
Elias turned.
The man was not looking at him.
He was still staring at his empty cup.
"Why?"
The man was silent for a long time before answering.
"Because the people here have stopped hoping."
The small fire in the fireplace crackled softly.
No one spoke again.
Outside, the sea wind blew stronger.
And far at the end of the Greyhaven harbor…
something stood silently in the midst of the falling snow.
Waiting.