The sea stretched endlessly before them, a vast expanse of blue-gray waters that seemed to go on forever. The boat moved steadily, carried by the wind, but the atmosphere was thick with tension. Geralt stood at the bow, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ever alert. The silence between him and Kaden was unspoken but heavy. Both men knew they needed answers—and soon.
"How far do you think we've gone from the island?" Kaden asked, breaking the long silence that had settled over the boat.
Geralt glanced over his shoulder. "Far enough for now, but not far enough to be safe. I'd wager we've still got people hunting us."
Kaden nodded. "That ship that came after us... someone sent them. Whoever's after me isn't going to give up easily."
Geralt didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of danger. "We'll stay ahead of them. At least for now."
The sea had calmed since the battle with the sea monster, but something still felt off. The air had an unnatural chill, and the wind seemed to carry an edge of something Kaden couldn't quite place. A sense of unease hung over the boat, as if the world around them was waiting for something to happen.
Kaden turned his gaze toward the horizon, squinting against the sun. He felt it too—that tension, that pull toward something just beyond his senses. "We need to find a safe place. Somewhere to regroup and figure out what's coming next."
Geralt gave a small grunt of agreement. "Any idea where?"
"Not yet," Kaden admitted. "But we're not exactly spoiled for options."
As they sailed on, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the water. The sense of unease grew stronger with each passing hour. It wasn't just the danger of being pursued—it was the feeling that the sea itself was hiding something. Kaden had never seen waters like these before, never felt the weight of the silence pressing down on them as heavily as it did now.
Geralt, ever perceptive, finally broke the silence again. "There's something in these waters. I don't like it."
Kaden turned toward him. "You think we're being followed again?"
"Maybe," Geralt said. "Or maybe there's something worse waiting for us ahead."
As dusk settled over the boat, the sky took on a dull, reddish hue, and the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky. The sea remained calm, but the tension in the air was palpable. It was too quiet. Too still.
Suddenly, a low creaking noise echoed through the silence, coming from somewhere off to the left of the boat. Kaden froze, his hand instinctively going to the wheel.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice low.
Geralt's grip on his sword tightened. "We're not alone."
The sound came again, louder this time—a deep, groaning noise that seemed to come from beneath the surface of the water. The boat rocked gently, as if something large was moving beneath them.
Before Kaden could react, a figure appeared from the mist.
It was sudden—one moment there was nothing, and the next, there was someone standing on the water, their silhouette barely visible in the fading light. Kaden's heart skipped a beat. The figure stood still, unmoving, watching them with an eerie calm.
"Who is that?" Kaden whispered, his voice barely audible.
Geralt stepped forward, his sword raised, but the figure didn't move. Slowly, it began to walk toward them, its feet moving lightly across the surface of the water as if it was solid ground.
Kaden's hand tightened on the wheel, his mind racing. The figure's approach wasn't hostile, but there was something unsettling about the way it moved, the way it seemed to glide over the waves without disturbing them.
"Stay back!" Geralt barked, his voice sharp. "Who are you?"
The figure stopped a few feet from the boat, standing on the surface of the water with unnatural stillness. As the last of the daylight faded, Kaden could make out more of the stranger's features—an old man, his face lined with age, but his eyes sharp and clear. He wore a long cloak that fluttered lightly in the breeze, and his hands were folded in front of him, as if he had all the time in the world.
"You're far from home, aren't you?" the old man said, his voice calm and measured. "And farther still from the answers you seek."
Kaden blinked, taken aback by the man's sudden words. "Who are you?"
The old man tilted his head slightly, studying Kaden with a thoughtful expression. "I could ask the same of you. But I know more about you than you realize."
Kaden exchanged a quick glance with Geralt, who remained on guard, his sword ready. "What do you know about us?"
The old man's gaze shifted to Kaden, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I know you carry a power that is older than you understand. A power that will destroy you, if you don't learn to control it."
Kaden's breath caught in his throat. "What are you talking about?"
"The frost," the old man said simply. "It's inside you, growing, waiting. You've felt it, haven't you? The pull of something ancient, something far beyond your comprehension."
Kaden's heart pounded in his chest. The old man's words hit too close to the truth. "How do you know about my power?"
The old man smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "I've seen many like you over the years. Many who have tried to harness the frost, and many who have failed. But you... you're different. You carry something more."
Kaden took a step back, his mind racing. The old man's words were unsettling, but there was something in them that rang true. Something Kaden had felt deep inside, but had been too afraid to acknowledge.
"Why are you here?" Geralt asked, his voice low and dangerous. "What do you want from us?"
The old man's gaze shifted to Geralt for a moment before returning to Kaden. "I'm not here to take anything from you. I'm here to offer guidance."
Kaden frowned. "Guidance? What kind of guidance?"
"The kind that might save your life," the old man replied. "If you continue on this path without understanding the power you wield, you will destroy yourself—and everything around you."
Kaden clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. "You're speaking in riddles. What do you know about my power? Where does it come from?"
The old man's eyes gleamed in the fading light. "That is a question only you can answer. But if you want to find the truth, you must go to where the frost began."
Kaden blinked, confusion flashing across his face. "Where the frost began? What does that mean?"
The old man smiled faintly again. "You'll know when you find it. The path will reveal itself in time, but only if you're willing to follow it."
Before Kaden could ask more, the old man turned and began to walk away, his figure slowly disappearing into the mist.
"Wait!" Kaden called after him, but the man was already gone, leaving only the stillness of the sea behind.
Kaden stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing with the cryptic words the old man had left behind. Where the frost began. What did that even mean?
Geralt stepped forward, his sword lowered now, though his expression remained cautious. "What do you think?"
Kaden shook his head. "I don't know. But we need to find out. Whatever this power is, it's tied to something bigger than me. If I don't understand it... I don't know what will happen."
Geralt studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Then we go where the frost began."
Kaden's heart raced as he turned back to the wheel, steering the boat into the open waters ahead. The answers were out there, somewhere. But the old man's warning echoed in his mind, leaving an uneasy feeling that wouldn't fade.