Of Flame, Sand, and Gold

The city of Aru’Shenu always had this strange scent… like it was remembering something; dust, sun-warmed stone, and the sharp bite of cumin and secrets. It wasn’t a place for clean slates. Not anymore.

Kaelen moved through its side streets like someone who knew how to vanish. Not a thief. Not a killer. 

More of... a man who understood how to be unseen when it mattered. 

He adjusted the strap across his shoulder and glanced up at the river that sliced the city like an old wound. 

The water shimmered lazily and brown, dragging reflections of crooked rooftops and faded banners. It wasn’t beautiful. But it was familiar. He liked that. 

Familiarity was safe. Except today didn’t feel safe. The hairs on the back of his neck rose; not from wind, but from that quiet, invisible shift that happens when someone is watching you too long.

He kept walking. Didn’t change his pace. Didn’t glance around like a fool. Just… listened.

There. 

A footstep too close. 

A breath too measured. And then—BAM.

A shoulder slammed into his, hard enough to spin him sideways. His foot caught the edge of the stone walkway, and suddenly the world tilted. Gravity grabbed him by the chest.

The river didn’t even wait.

SPLASH. a fist to the ribs. His body went under, the water curling around him like a smug predator. 

It wasn’t deep, but the current pulled with the stubbornness of a drunk ox. 

Kaelen surfaced coughing, sputtering, soaked to the bone. His arms flailed, not because he couldn’t swim but because he couldn’t believe it.

Seriously? He clawed toward the edge, fingers slipping on slick stone. 

A shadow loomed above him. A tall figure crouched at the riverbank, golden skin catching the afternoon light, and a grin sharp enough to cut rope.

“Need a hand?” the man asked, extending one. His tone was smooth; too smooth… like someone offering you wine after stealing your wallet.

Kaelen narrowed his eyes. “You knocked me in.”

The man’s face didn’t flinch. “What? Me? Never. Must’ve been a ghost.”

Kaelen stared. 

“A ghost. With shoulders.” 

“Very aggressive ghost,” the stranger said, chuckling. 

“My name’s Sahen, by the way. City law enforcer. You’re welcome.”

Kaelen ignored the hand and pulled himself up, dripping and irritated. His cloak clung to him like a regret.

Sahen didn’t move. He just studied him; not like someone looking at a stranger but like someone trying to remember something forgotten.

“You’re not from here,” he finally said.

Kaelen rolled his eyes. “I’ve lived in this city for fifteen years.”

“You’re not from here,” Sahen repeated, tapping his temple.

Kaelen didn’t reply. The two stared at each other. Something crackled in the space between them. Not hatred; not yet. 

But the seed of something heavy and dangerous.

“Tell you what,” Sahen said, turning away with that same damn smile. “You meet me tomorrow. Downstream. I’ll teach you how to stay on your feet near rivers.”

“I didn’t fall—”

“Details,” Sahen called back, already walking away.

Kaelen stood there, soaked, humiliated, and half tempted to throw a boot after him. Instead, he just muttered, “Asshole,” and kept walking.

He didn’t know it then — but that shove was the beginning. Not out of a grudge. Not of a rivalry. 

A reckoning.

The water remembered.

And soon, so would he.

Kaelen’s boots hit the cobblestone streets with a steady rhythm, though inside, everything felt fractured; as if he was walking in a world that wasn’t entirely his. 

The city of Aru’Shenu, with its sun-washed alleys and street vendors hawking spices and cloth, should’ve felt like home. But the scent of roasting meats only reminded him of things he couldn’t remember — faces he should have recognized, names that slipped through his mind like water.

He took a turn down a narrow side street, half-watching the shadows, half-waiting for something he couldn’t name.

Today was supposed to be simple. A last errand before he could vanish for a while. A bit of peace. A bit of silence.

Instead, he was playing the part of errand-runner to a woman who’d apparently mistaken him for someone else.

Not that he minded the work, necessarily. It was easy. But easy had never really been the goal, had it?

Still, Kaelen wasn't the kind of man who questioned what he didn’t understand. He was just a man who did the job, collected the coin, and moved on.

It wasn’t until he turned the corner and saw the woman waiting by the spice carts that the real confusion started.

She was young — far younger than the “mature” woman the note had described. But there she was, standing with a worn-out, tired expression as if her whole life had been waiting for a moment just like this.

Her eyes were narrow and calculating, but there was something underneath — something that spoke of desperation. Of fear.

"Ma'am Saltana?" Kaelen asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice was rough from the water still catching in his throat, like he was trying to speak through the layers of confusion. “You’re... the mature woman?”

Saltana’s lips twitched into a bitter smile. “Does that bother you?” she asked, her tone sharp. A woman who had seen too many things too quickly, Kaelen could tell.

“No, not at all,” Kaelen replied with a lazy shrug. “I just wasn’t expecting… this.”

She eyed him up and down. "Let’s just say I’ve had a very interesting life.” She folded her arms and leaned back against the cart, watching the bustle of the street with half-disinterest. “So, you're my knight in shining armor? You’re going to help me disappear?"

Kaelen ran a hand through his wet hair. His mind still felt cloudy; the river, the strange encounter, the pull in his gut he couldn’t explain.

“Disappear? From what? A wedding?”

She rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply. “Well, you might as well know. You’re not just picking up a princess with a flat tire. I need you to kidnap me."

Kaelen blinked. “What?”

“Yes. Kidnap me. From my own wedding.”

The absurdity of it hit him before the sense did. He stared at her, eyes narrowing. "You’re joking."

“Nope.” She smiled coolly, a dangerous kind of calm in her voice. "I've made all the arrangements. Now, you just need to make sure the rest of the plan works."

Kaelen took a slow breath, trying to digest this new level of weirdness. This wasn’t just a strange errand. This was something else entirely.

“And you’re just… offering me money for this? No questions asked?”

Saltana let out a small laugh. “Of course not. There’s always a price.”

“What’s yours?”

She looked at him like he should’ve already known. “I’m not getting married, Kaelen. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I just need someone with the right skill set to make it all look convincing.”

Kaelen raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that instead of running away, you want me to ‘kidnap’ you so your family doesn’t notice?”

“Exactly,” Saltana said. “Simple. Just… play along. We get you in, we get me out, and then I disappear.”

Kaelen exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The strange quiet between them hung heavy. This wasn’t just a job anymore. There was something more under the surface; something he couldn’t quite see.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Kaelen asked. “The one you’re trying to avoid?”

Her eyes flashed, something fierce and cold flaring up behind the layers of composure. “Someone who never wanted me. Someone who thinks I’m a tool.”

Kaelen let the silence stretch. He had a choice. A simple one, really. Refuse and walk away. Or…

“Alright. I’ll do it. But no guarantees I’m not going to regret it halfway through.”

Saltana didn’t smile. She just nodded, like she knew exactly what that meant.

“Good. We leave tonight, right before the ceremony. Just keep it quiet.”

As Kaelen turned to leave, her low volumed voice stopped him.

“You’ll regret this. Not because of me,” she added, her tone colder now, “but because of what you’ll find out when it’s all over.”

Kaelen looked over his shoulder, catching the strange warning in her words. He wasn’t sure what she meant, but his gut told him there was more to this than he was being told.

Still, he didn’t ask. He never did.