The fog had not fully lifted when Elias returned from the dock.
Greyhaven slowly began to come alive.
Yet the life in this city was unlike any other port city he had seen.
No shouts from merchants.
No ships newly arrived.
No workers arguing about fish prices.
Only the sound of footsteps.
And wind.
Elias walked past the main street toward the bakery the innkeeper had mentioned.
The building was small, with narrow windows and a chimney still emitting thin steam.
When he opened the door, the aroma of warm bread greeted him.
It was perhaps the most alive scent he had felt since arriving in Greyhaven.
An old man stood behind a wooden counter, cutting a large loaf with a long knife.
The man looked up.
"You're new."
This time the tone was not merely observation. More like a fact that didn't matter.
Elias nodded.
"One small loaf."
The old man cut a piece of bread and placed it on brown paper.
"Three coins."
Elias paid without bargaining.
As he was about to leave, the shop door suddenly opened hard.
A young woman entered with ragged breath.
"Have any of you seen Bram?!"
Her voice broke the room's tranquility.
The old man behind the counter sighed softly.
"Not this morning."
The woman gripped her hair with trembling hands.
"He didn't come home last night."
No one answered immediately.
Elias observed the room.
There were two other customers eating bread at a corner table.
They only looked down.
No one seemed surprised.
That was the strangest thing.
The woman looked at them one by one.
"You know he usually comes home before night!"
The old man finally spoke.
"Perhaps he drank too much again."
"He doesn't drink!"
The woman almost shouted.
The old man looked at her long.
Then he said something that made the room fall silent again.
"People who walk too close to the docks at night often… don't come back."
The woman froze.
"Don't say that."
The old man did not answer.
Elias finally spoke.
"When was he last seen?"
All eyes in the room turned to him.
The woman looked at Elias with desperate hope.
"Last night… around midnight."
"Where?"
"Near the north dock."
Elias nodded slowly.
The woman clasped her hands.
"You're an outsider. You don't know how this city is now."
"What do you mean?"
The woman opened her mouth, but the old man behind the counter cut her off.
"Enough."
He looked at Elias with sharp eyes for the first time.
"This is not your concern."
Elias did not argue.
But before he left, the woman said softly.
"Several people have disappeared like this."
The room became very quiet.
"How many?" asked Elias.
The woman hesitated.
"Four… maybe five."
The old man slammed the table with his bread knife.
"Enough!"
The woman looked down.
Elias understood the unspoken message.
The people in this city did not want to talk about this.
Not because they didn't know.
But because they had stopped trying to understand.
When Elias left the bakery, the sky had begun to brighten.
Yet the fog at the harbor was still thick.
He walked toward the inn with bread in his hands.
Luca was already sitting at the table when he entered.
The boy looked restless.
"What is it?" asked Elias.
Luca looked at the inn door, making sure no one else was listening.
"I saw it again."
"When?"
"Last night."
Elias sat in a chair.
"Where?"
"Closer."
"How close?"
Luca swallowed.
"On the street near the church."
This was different from before.
Previously, the figure had always been at the dock.
Now it was moving deeper into the city.
"Was it doing anything?"
Luca shook his head.
"It was just standing."
The boy was drawing something on his paper again.
Elias looked at the drawing.
The tall figure was now on a city street.
Small houses drawn around it.
And in front of the figure…
there was a small dot lying on the ground.
"Who is that?" asked Elias.
Luca answered in a voice almost whispering.
"One who didn't come home."
The wind outside the inn suddenly blew harder.
The wooden door rattled.
Elias felt something uncomfortable crawling in his mind.
He had not seen the Lament directly yet.
But he knew one thing.
Creatures like that did not appear suddenly.
They were born from something.
Despair.
Fear.
Hope slowly dying.
Greyhaven had all of that.
And if Elias was not mistaken…
then this city was already on the verge of birthing something far worse than mere monsters.
Outside the inn window, fog moved slowly between the wooden houses.
And far down one narrow city street…
someone stood still for too long.
Not moving.
Not breathing.
Only waiting for the next night.