El tintero de Caballero

  The Wyrmbreaker’s Dawn by Z.D. Caballero September 23, 2025 © 2025 Regalport’s harbor always sounded like a lie to Jax. People said the sea calmed a person, that the tide rocked honest men to sleep and told truth to those who listened. Jax had listened, once. He’d heard only hustle: the scrape of hull against pier, the clack of dice in back rooms, the hush of deals greased by coin and fear. Tonight the harbor sang that old song—ropes creaking, gulls quarreling, drunks wheezing their last laugh—while the fog rolled in from the dark like a rumor nobody wanted to repeat. He leaned on a tar-slick piling and turned one of his faces to the night: weathered sailor, eyes too tired to judge. The guise fit him like a comfortable lie. He watched the Tharashk prospecting barge moored along Dock Six, its lanterns caged in brass and its guards pretending not to be bored. The barge’s crates wore House sigils like medals. Dragonshards. Enough sparkle to make worse men bolder. “Any...