Regulus ran.
Dirt became cobblestones became forest loam beneath his pounding feet. Cities rose and crumbled at his periphery. Corpses piled in his wake—elves with burned throats, dwarves clutching shattered axes, humans cut to pieces.
The air reeked of iron and something older, darker.
He dared not look back. Not again. But the pressure never faded—that terrible, weightless sense of being seen by something vast. When he finally stumbled, his body betraying him, he made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder.
A single eye stared back from the darkness.
Pupilless. Hungry.
The world shattered around it.
-----
Regulus bolted upright, his lungs screaming as if he'd truly run for miles. Cold sweat plastered his shirt to his back.
Beside him, Nyx stirred—not with her usual violence, but with a drowsy murmur. Her hand found his wrist in the dark, her fingers uncharacteristically gentle.
"A nightmare, little moth?" Her voice was thick with sleep, the words slipping out before her usual masks could reassemble.
Regulus swallowed. "Yeah. Sorry for disturbing you, Lady Nyx."
"I see..." Her grip loosened as sleep reclaimed her, the moment lost to dawn's slow approach. The room swaying with the waves
Regulus exhaled, his breath still ragged. The ship's timbers creaked around them like a living thing.
"This is gonna be a long voyage, isn't it?" he muttered to the dark, the words thick with self-derision.
His hands rose to clutch his face, fingers pressing into his temples as if he could physically push the dream's remnants from his skull. "What was that...?"
The question hung unanswered. Nyx's breathing had deepened again beside him, her shadow curled protectively around both their bedrolls—though whether to comfort or claim, even she might not know.
Somewhere above deck, the stranger's locket clicked shut with a sound like a tooth breaking.
-----
The morning sun glittered off the waves as Nyx leaned against the ship's railing, her shadow stretching lazily across the deck. "Well, unlike our grueling land voyage," she said, flicking a crumb of stolen pastry into the sea, "we only need to endure half the time to reach Babelonia."
Regulus squinted at the horizon. "What should we do, then?"
Nyx perked up. "Gambling."
"No."
"Come on, my little king," she purred, her shadow slithering around his shoulders like a conspirator. "We could win big."
Regulus batted the shadow away. "I don't want us making enemies in a place we can't escape from."
Nyx slumped dramatically against the railing. "Fair point." She sighed. "But those games you taught me are so boring."
Regulus rubbed his temples—still aching faintly from the nightmare. "How about we invite other passengers to play? The more, the merrier, right?"
Nyx's eyes lit up. "Oho! We could even place bets—"
"I said no gambling, Lady Nyx." He shot her a look. "We'll earn far more in Babelonia than whatever chump change we'd scrape together here."
Nyx's shadow mimed strangling him behind his back. "Spoilsport," she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
Nearby, a cloaked figure turned their head slightly—listening.
The cloaked figure stepped forward, her boots silent on the sun-bleached deck. "Forgive the intrusion," she said, her voice like honeyed wine, "but I couldn't help overhearing your conversation." Her gloved fingers tugged at her hood. "What games were you referring to? Are they... unique to your homeland?"
The hood fell back.
Regulus' breath caught.
She was striking—not in Nyx's dangerous, otherworldly way, but with a warmth that seemed to glow from within. Chestnut hair framed a face dusted with freckles, her smile as bright as the sea-spray. For a delirious moment, Regulus wondered if this was it—his first normal, lovely—
Thwack. Nyx kicked his ankle.
He blinked. Nyx was smirking at him, her eyes alight with wicked amusement. Her lips formed a silent, exaggerated word: "Waaaaaifuuuu~"
Regulus' ears burned.
The stranger tilted her head, oblivious. "Well?"
Regulus blinked the daze from his eyes. "Sorry, but who are you?"
The woman laughed—a sound like wind chimes—and swept into a practiced curtsy. "Lady Cordelia of the Rosewind Mercantile Guild." Her gloved hand gestured to the embroidered rose crest on her traveling cloak. "Though out here, just Cordelia will do."
Nyx leaned against the railing, examining her nails. "How quaint," she drawled. "A merchant who specializes in... what was it again? Oversized cloaks and eavesdropping?"
Cordelia's smile remained polished. "Rare imports, actually. Which is why I'm curious about these games you mentioned."
Regulus opened his mouth to respond when Nyx's shadow suddenly yanked him backward by his collar.
"Careful, little moth," Nyx murmured, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "This one's guild crest is freshly stitched. Almost like someone's playing dress-up."
Cordelia's fingers twitched—just once—before she folded her hands demurely. "An observant companion you have."
"Oh, you have no idea," Nyx said, grinning.
"Anyway, sure you can join," Regulus said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I was thinking we should have four players for this game."
Nyx's eyes gleamed with sudden interest. "Oh? And who's our lucky fourth?"
As if summoned, a hulking figure emerged from below deck—a bear of a man with a patch over one eye and a belt full of carving knives. The ship's cook, if the flour dusting his sleeves was any indication.
"Oi," he grunted. "Heard there'd be cards."
Regulus opened his mouth to respond when Cordelia clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Though..." She tilted her head at Nyx. "I do hope your companion plays fair."
"Moi?" Nyx gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "I'm devastated you'd imply otherwise."
The cook snorted. "Deal me in, lass. I've peeled potatoes more deceitful than this lot."
Regulus cleared his throat. "Actually, this isn't a card game." He reached into his pack and pulled out a blank parchment, laying it across the barrel-top. The cook's eyebrow—the one not hidden under his patch—rose skeptically.
Nyx leaned in, her arms curling around Regulus' shoulders like an overly possessive scarf. "Oh? What are we playing then, little moth?"
Regulus ignored her, focusing instead on the parchment. He took a steadying breath, then whispered the chant under his breath:
"As stars above, so ink now waking..."
The words slithered from his lips, barely audible, but the effect was immediate. Silver ink bloomed across the parchment, lines etching themselves into a grid, properties forming in neat squares, tiny illustrations of houses and hotels springing to life. The words "MONOPOLY" carved themselves boldly across the top.
The cook's remaining eye widened. Cordelia's breath hitched—just for a fraction of a second—before her merchant's smile snapped back into place.
Nyx, however, burst out laughing. "This is your grand plan? A real estate game?" She snatched up the freshly manifested thimble token, turning it over in her fingers. "How droll."
Regulus smirked. "You won't be laughing when I bankrupt you."
The cook scratched his chin. "So... can you explain what just happened, young man?"
"Sure," Regulus said, already doling out fake money. "I used magic to make a game out of mind. And I will teach you all about capitalism my good sir."
Cordelia's gloved fingers traced the edge of the board, her gaze lingering on the ink that still shimmered faintly. "Fascinating," she murmured.
Nyx's hand swept across the board, a tiny flag on Park Place that read: "Stolen by Shadow Queen."
Regulus sighed. This was going to be a long voyage.