No sooner had they reached the alley than the first cries echoed through the harbor: “There they are!” “Go after them!” “Come on, everyone!” Eva looked over her shoulder and saw that the pirates had taken up the chase without hesitation. Lennar ran a few steps behind her—not because he couldn’t keep up, but because he was covering her back. He’s well trained, Eva thought appreciatively. They jumped like hares, diving into the empty alleys between the warehouses, slipping under collapsed archways and taking every shortcut they could find. But the hurried footsteps behind them sounded closer and closer, more and more threatening. As they turned sharply to the right at the wall of a building, one of the curved daggers whizzed past their heads. “Just one word from you, Grand Master,” Lennar gasped behind her, “and I’ll stop them!” “No, keep running!” Eva shouted, completely forgetting to use the correct form of address.
After running past countless brick buildings, all that lay ahead of them was the high wall and the stone gate leading out to the large fields. The paved path ended abruptly. Beyond it lay the country road—hard-packed earth, marked by the deep ruts of countless horse-drawn carts. Beyond the gate, a vast expanse lay before them: scorched earth, covered in ash, crisscrossed with black scars where the fire had engulfed entire fields. Eva and Lennar rushed out without hesitation and let themselves be swallowed up by the golden sea of wheat.
Behind them, the pirates‘ shouts merged into a rough, angry cacophony. Metal clanged, panting and coughing could be heard, and somewhere someone was blindly hacking through the corn like a reaper. The air burned in Eva’s lungs, tasting of soot and burnt straw. “This way!” Lennar gasped, turning to avoid a bare patch where the ground was exposed. Then there was a whistling sound from the left. Shortly after, a second one, further to the right. They were surrounded. Eva ducked down, pressing herself deep between the stalks. Through a narrow gap, she saw two pirates running past—crouching, knives drawn, little more than shadows between gold and gray. Then one of them stopped abruptly. “Flattened stalks,” he said quietly. “They’re close.” One of the men turned and slowly approached them. Eva gave Lennar a quick hand signal, and he silently disappeared sideways between the stems. The pirate listened, sniffed, and finally walked back.
A gust of wind swept across the field, causing the ears of wheat to tremble. Lennar grabbed Eva’s arm, and they hunched over as they ran on. Her pulse pounded against her skull. The smell of ash and smoke hung heavy in the air. Then a slender figure appeared between the stalks—it was the young pirate with the daggers. The monocle now dangled from a chain around her neck. She moved like a wildcat: controlled, silent, every gesture precise. Just a breath away, and Eva would have touched her. Then someone behind them called out, “Fresh tracks! Vaska, over here!” The pirate turned immediately and disappeared into the rustling ears of corn. “Keep going,” Eva whispered.
They crawled, climbed over charred bushes, stumbled through muddy paths where the firefighters’ water had softened the ground. The smell of wet soot filled the air. Then—men’s voices. A rustling, much too close.
The plants parted before them like a golden gate. Behind it lay a burnt area, black, silent, with knee-high stubble. “We have to get across,” whispered Eva, “and as quickly as possible.” Lennar nodded and started to run—but suddenly two figures shot out from behind the cover of the corn. One was the bald man in the fur-trimmed coat. A feverish redness lay on his cheeks, sweat glistening on his forehead. His chest rose and fell violently, but his gray eyes flashed like those of a buzzard fixated on a field hamster. He jumped at Lennar before Eva could react.
The young man raised the Ventus staff. The pirate grabbed his arm. Both fell into the ears at the edge of the charred clearing. “Sjöberg!” Eva cried, but a movement on her left made her freeze. The young pirate with the braids stood there, a dagger in each hand. “Stay where you are,” she said quietly. Eva backed away—a single breath—and the pirate lunged forward. The curved dagger glinted like a fang in the light.
Boom. With a single, brutal blow, the Ventus staff discharged. A blast of wind raced across the fields, flattening the ears of grain, ash and dust swirled up, burning in the light. For a heartbeat, everything stood still – the bald pirate was thrown up into the air, hovering briefly like a dark silhouette against the sky before crashing back to earth with a dull thud.
The young pirate stared across. A moment of consternation – enough. Eva was already upon her. They wrestled, daggers flew, stalks snapped, then both fell to the ground. Eva pinned her down, knee on her chest, blade at her throat. “Who are you?” she growled. “Which clan do you belong to? What are you doing on Goldendale?” The pirate coughed, spat. “Clan?” She hissed the word like something bitter. “We don’t belong to any clan. Families die. Flags burn. Names dissolve in the wind.” Eva pressed harder. “Answer me.” The other woman’s voice was very calm. “What do we want? Order.” She squirmed slightly, turning her face away from the knife. “The Griffin will restore it—the order that your masters have long since betrayed.”
Eva wanted to press further, but then the pirate’s eyes widened. A strange grin crept across her smeared face. “Oh… it’s you.” Eva froze. “What do you mean?” “The Grand Master.” The grin widened. “How wonderful. Really—we’re lucky.” Eva pressed her knee harder into her stomach. “What order? What do you mean?” “You’re here. They’ll be pleased.” Her voice softened, almost whispering. “We’ll find you. Wait for our message.”
Before Eva could react, the body beneath her tensed—then the pirate threw her aside with a jerk, like a doll she no longer wanted to play with. Eva rolled away, jumped up, knife drawn. But around her there was only rustling, a shadow disappearing into the grain. Then nothing.
The pirate was gone.