The morning sun painted the sky in soft hues of pink and gold, the light catching on the rippling surface of the sea. A cool breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed as Eleanor stepped outside, her eyes immediately drawn to Kael. He stood near the edge of the dock, his movements methodical as he prepared a small, sturdy boat. His ashen skin seemed to blend with the muted morning light, and his blood-red eyes focused intently on his task.

  She hesitated for a moment, watching him secure thick ropes to the side of the boat and adjust the position of three long, vicious-looking harpoons. Each harpoon was sleek and polished, with barbed tips that glinted menacingly in the sunlight.

  Eleanor approached him, her steps light but deliberate. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice curious but carrying a hint of concern.

  Kael didn’t look up as he continued his preparations. “I’m getting ready to head out,” he replied evenly. “See if I can get the Cecaelia to show itself.”

  Eleanor frowned, stepping closer to the edge of the dock. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

  Finally, Kael paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Cecaelia, like Mermaids, have telepathic abilities,” he explained. “They can communicate through thoughts. If I’m close enough, I might be able to provoke it into responding.”

  Eleanor’s gaze shifted to the harpoons resting in the boat, their sharp edges gleaming ominously. She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “And what are those for?”

  Kael straightened, turning to face her fully. His expression was calm but unreadable, his voice steady as he answered. “In case the Cecaelia doesn’t want to talk.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. “You’re expecting it to attack, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged, his tone practical and unbothered. “If it’s already killed, it may not care to parley. I’m not taking chances.”

  For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves lapping gently against the dock and the soft creak of the boat shifting with the tide. Eleanor frowned but said nothing, her eyes lingering on Kael as he turned back to his preparations.

  As Kael continued his preparations, Eleanor’s eyes wandered to the weapons resting nearby. The long sword and short sword lay side by side, their polished blades catching the light of the morning sun. Curious, she stepped closer and gestured toward them.

  “You carry those with you everywhere,” she said, her voice inquisitive. “What’s the story behind them?”

  Kael glanced over his shoulder, then followed her gaze to the swords. He straightened, picking up the shorter blade first. Its plain but functional design gleamed with a faint sheen.

  “This,” he began, holding it up for her to see, “is a standard steel short sword. Good for close combat, especially when space is tight. It’s reliable, sharp, and easy to maintain—nothing fancy, but it does the job.”

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  Eleanor nodded, her eyes now shifting to the longer weapon lying next to it. The longsword was different, with an almost ethereal quality to its dark, shimmering blade. She could feel something faintly ominous about it, as if the weapon itself carried a presence.

  “And that one?” she asked, pointing to the longsword.

  Kael reached for it, lifting it carefully as though the blade was more than just a tool. He turned it slightly, allowing the light to dance across its surface, revealing intricate runes etched along the fuller.

  “This is made of Magnite,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of respect and practicality. “It’s no ordinary metal. Some creatures—supernatural ones—are resistant to standard steel. That’s where metals like silver, iron, and gold come into play. They’re naturally harmful to certain monsters, but each one only works on specific types. Silver for werewolves, iron for fae, gold for some cursed entities.”

  Eleanor tilted her head, her curiosity deepening. “So, you’d need a different sword for each kind of monster?”

  Kael gave a small, humorless chuckle. “Exactly. And carrying a dozen swords made of different metals isn’t exactly practical. That’s why Magnite is so valuable.”

  She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing the cool air just above the blade. “What’s so special about it?”

  He glanced at her, then back to the sword, his clawed fingers tracing the runes. “Magnite is a supernatural metal. It doesn’t occur naturally; it’s created through arcane magic. Mages skilled in the most advanced forms of the craft combine raw materials with powerful enchantments to forge it. The result is a metal that affects all supernatural creatures, no matter their nature.”

  Eleanor’s eyes widened. “All of them?”

  Kael nodded. “Every last one. Vampires, werewolves, ghouls, spirits—Magnite cuts through them all. Its edges last far longer than standard steel, and the blades themselves are nearly indestructible. Perfect for someone in my line of work.”

  She frowned slightly, her gaze flicking between him and the sword. “If it’s so useful, why don’t more hunters carry it?”

  Kael’s expression hardened slightly. “Because it’s rare. Very rare. You’d need a mage with decades of experience in arcane magic to create the metal. And once you have it, you need a blacksmith trained in forging Magnite—something even rarer than the metal itself. Few have the skill, and fewer still can afford it. Magnite weapons cost a small fortune.”

  Eleanor looked at him, her green eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “And yet you have one.”

  Kael met her gaze, his crimson eyes steady. “It wasn’t easy to get,” he said simply, a shadow passing over his face. “Let’s just say it came at a high price.”

  For a moment, silence hung between them, the weight of his words settling in. Eleanor studied him, realizing there was more to his story than he let on, but she chose not to press further.

  “It’s an impressive weapon,” she said softly.

  Kael nodded, returning the sword to its place beside the short sword. “It needs to be. The creatures I hunt don’t make things easy.”

  Eleanor stepped closer to Kael, her arms crossed as she watched him secure the last harpoon onto the small boat. "So," she said with a calm but determined tone, "when do we head out?"

  Kael paused mid-motion, turning his head to look at her with narrowed, blood-red eyes. "We?" he echoed, his voice a low rumble of confusion and irritation.

  “Yes, we,” Eleanor said firmly, her chin lifting defiantly.

  Kael straightened, towering over her as he frowned. “No. That’s out of the question. You’re staying here on the island where it’s safe.”

  Eleanor didn’t flinch, her green eyes holding steady as she squared her shoulders. “Either I go with you, or I take my own boat. Either way, I’m going.”

  Kael’s frown deepened, and he let out a low, guttural growl, his sharp claws flexing as his hands curled into fists. “You are insufferable,” he muttered, his frustration palpable.

  “Call me whatever you like,” she said with a shrug, “but I’m not staying behind while you head out there alone. That thing is attacking my people, and I’m not just going to sit here and wait for news.”

  Kael turned away, running a clawed hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with. It’s dangerous, and you’ll only get in the way.”

  Eleanor took a step closer, her tone softening but losing none of its resolve. “I’m not as helpless as you think, Kael. I know these waters better than anyone, and if this thing is out there, I might be able to help. Whether you like it or not.”

  Kael spun back to face her, his crimson eyes flashing with frustration. “You’re reckless, stubborn, and—” He stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing heavily. “You’re annoying.”

  Eleanor smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Maybe. But I’m also coming with you.”

  Kael muttered something under his breath that Eleanor couldn’t quite make out, but she caught the word “women” followed by a string of curses. After a tense moment, he threw his hands up in defeat.

  “Fine,” he growled, his voice dripping with exasperation. “But don’t blame me if you regret it.”

  Eleanor smiled, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t.”