The Beginning of the Journey

Before setting off on their journey, Aren and Keiran stopped by a clothing store in the city. The light streaming in through the wide display windows illuminated the neatly arranged clothes on the racks. Aren stood in the middle of the store, glancing around with a hint of impatience in his eyes. He always preferred his own black clothes; simple, functional, and durable. Keiran, on the other hand, moved comfortably among the colorful racks, mumbling to himself as he went.

"My clothes are better quality, sturdier," Aren said, inspecting a gray jacket hanging on a rack. "Why did we come here?"

Without turning around, Keiran tossed a brightly colored shirt over his shoulder. He responded with a slight smile, "All your clothes are always black, Aren. And they all look the same. Sure, they're durable, but they attract too much attention. Especially on a journey where we could get into a conflict at any moment, we need more comfortable and inconspicuous outfits."

Aren raised an eyebrow, glancing skeptically at the shirt in Keiran's hand. "This is supposed to attract less attention?" he asked sarcastically.

Keiran held up the shirt, examining its striped pattern, then casually shrugged and let it fall back down. "While you walk around like a storm cloud in all that black, I'm here enjoying the colors. Besides, style can be a weapon too."

Aren rolled his eyes but knew deep down that this argument was going nowhere. Keiran was like that. His sarcasm and laid-back attitude were always part of his strategy.

After wandering around the store a bit longer, Keiran finally picked out a few different outfits and headed to the checkout. Aren still believed that his own clothes were superior, but reluctantly grabbed a few simpler, less flashy items at Keiran's insistence. Even though he didn't want to abandon his black suit, he knew he had to be prepared for the journey.

When they left the store, it was starting to get dark outside. The air was cool but crisp, with a light breeze blowing through the streets. Aren slung the shopping bag over his shoulder and headed toward the taxi stand. Keiran followed behind with his usual relaxed stride. Once they got into the taxi, the driver turned to them and asked where they were headed.

"To Pier 13," Keiran said, his eyes still fixed on the city lights outside. Aren leaned back in the seat, quietly watching the city pass by. Keiran, as always, maintained his chatter.

"This journey's going to take five hours," Keiran said, turning to Aren. "Which means I have plenty of time to crack jokes."

Aren turned his gaze to Keiran. "If you keep joking for five hours straight, I'll throw you out of this taxi," he said in a dry tone, though the stern look on his face didn't faze Keiran at all.

"Come on, let's have some fun. Life's too short, you know. Look outside—millions of people out there, and they don't even know we exist," Keiran said, throwing a quick nod to the taxi driver. "Right, driver? What's the point of a journey if we don't enjoy ourselves?"

The driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror with a smile. "Exactly, kids. But no one's gonna blame you if you take a nap until we get there."

Keiran chuckled, but when he noticed Aren staring quietly out the window, he just shook his head slightly. Despite the lighthearted banter, there was a balance between them that eased the monotony of the journey. Aren's silence and Keiran's ever-present energy created a rhythm, a kind of harmony that made their dynamic work. No matter how much Keiran joked, Aren could sit there without being bothered.

After a long five-hour journey, the taxi finally arrived at the pier. Though they were tired, they couldn't help but be momentarily captivated by the grandeur of the massive Ship 13 that stood before them. However, before boarding the ship, they first needed to head to the hotel where they would spend the night.