Rider's Storm

Cedric stepped off his long boat onto the rickety dock. Not a single person rushed to receive his docking fee, in fact the docks were empty, not a single living creature amongst the nets, traps, ships. The normally busy docks of Skye were devoid of its congestion of mythical people. His left eyebrow lifted as he scanned past the docks to the village. He loosened his arms and turned his body slightly, stiffening his stance. He raised his head slightly, sniffing the musky salt air. 

Antonio jumped onto the side of the ship, crouching. His tiny eyes scanned while he perked  his large ears up to listen. His long tail instinctively wrapped around the railing beneath him as he leaned forward. “Massssskter,” Antonio started, “There no one, knotting.” The imp shook his bulbous head frustration scrunching his features. Cedric turned to his friend and asked, “Would  you scout ahead and stay to the shadows no need alerting anything that may be masking itself?” Stretching his wings with a nod the imp vanished into thin air.

Cedric eased forward along the dock, his weight shifting the dock beneath him roughly. Reaching the end of the dock he knelt to the ground. The path way before him lay scattered with prints of all origins. They should have been scattered in every direction instead there were layers upon layers of prints headed in two directions. Away from the dock and away from the village.  Some of the prints looked as though they had been dragged or scuffled. Sighing he stood and looked about the docks. The dense fog that surrounded Skye acted as a deterrent and protector to those that lived on it. This kept the island safely hidden and its magic raw. Now standing in Skye everything was crystal clear. The ships and boats were scattered, some drifting in the pier, others rocking on the docks. Each one in shambles. A sigh of simi understanding left his peace’s lips. He pulled his bowler cap from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. His breath audible against the soft caress of waves on the shore line. 

Antonio reappeared on the railing, happily crouched with his tail wrapping along it. In his hand he held a yellow parchment. Raising the Imp walked along the rail. His voice went deep and dandy like as he read from the parchment.

“War has come and evaded us all,

Victory in the realm of Skye,

Celebrations are in order

Rich  wine and food we shall provide,

Through the woods in high, 

The Summer Court Dines

And wishes to see fine guests to dine.”

Reaching the edge of the ship's railing he leaned forward and held it out to a rapidly approaching Cedric. Cedric took the yellowed paper and scanned the document. The smell of old books reaching his nose. “The light bringers are celebrating a huge victory battle and invited everyone to celebrate with them,” he brought the power to his nose inhaling deeply, “Been a few years back, not a reason for the rush out of town.”

Antonio eyes his friend. A look of curiosity and concern on his scrunched face. “All the tracks in town go one way. Out,” his normal raspy voice said. “Yes, out and away from the harbor,”  Cedric said, gently folding the scrap of paper and placing it into the small bag that hung on the side of his hip, “All the tracks are rushed. Some are trip marks and some look to be dragged,” pointing towards the harbor, “see there the Mers aren’t ones to leave a ship adrift. There were no Kelps collecting the docking roll and aiding in coming off ship. Everyone including the waterkins left in a hurry.” 

Eyeing the harbor one more time he signaled with two fingers to Antonio, “Come, let’s get a drink,” he told him. Antonio jumped down from the railing. The curious look on his face deepened into a frown. Before he could speak his concerns Cedric informed him, “Though the town and harbor are empty the taverns tend to be the main attractions. It is a near guarantee to tell us of what happened here, even if insight is minimal.” Antonio walked just behind Cedric watching the space around then as they walked towards the village ahead. A feeling of uneasy familiarity creeping into his bones.