As Jenin watched the events unfold down below, he was startled when a sailor reached the top of the hill and grabbed his arms. Judging by the way the man was hunched over and gasping for breath, he had run all the way up the hill from the docks.

“The old man.” The man said once he had caught his breath. “The lighthouse keeper. He’s still in the lighthouse.”

Jenin looked back over at the lighthouse, and he felt dread set into his stomach. The kraken had reappeared, and was now dangerously close to the lighthouse. Should it make contact, anyone inside or in the near vicinity would be killed instantly.

“Did you see Princess Levisia anywhere?” Jenin asked, his concern growing. “Surely you must have seen her?”

“Yes, I did. I passed her along the way down here. I begged her to just leave the lighthouse keeper, because he turned down even my pleas. But she insisted on- The lighthouse!”

Jenin’s head snapped back around to the lighthouse, and to his horror he saw the kraken’s tentacles flailing about. Within seconds, it made contact with the lighthouse with a mighty crash. The building wobbled from side to side, but remained upright. The kraken let out a screech that caused Jenin to wince and cover his ears. He could only watch as the kraken thrashed out again. This time, however, the lighthouse could not withstand the attack, and began to crumble. The top of the building toppled and crashed into the ground, with a shower of dust soaring into the air.

As the dust settled, the silence was broken by screams from both the hill and down on the pier. Jenin forced his legs to move as he turned to face the terrified crowd behind him. He shouted orders for them to move away, for fear of them rushing towards the pier and straight into danger.

He hoped, for Levisia’s sake, that she was safe.

*

Levisia finally reached the bottom of the lighthouse, and waited a moment for her heart to stop racing. The outside of the lighthouse was a mess, with boxes and crates scattered liberally about the place, along with their contents.

Finding the strength to keep moving, she approached the front door and firmly knocked. When she received no answer, she knocked again, and then another time. Cautious about the kraken returning at any given moment, Levisia took matters into her own hands and entered the lighthouse. In contrast the outside, the interior was immaculate, with not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere. Using a lantern that was hanging on the wall, she started to climb the stairs, calling out for anyone inside to leave.

As she reached the top, there was still no sign of life within the lighthouse. Coming to the conclusion that it was empty, Levisia turned to leave when a loud noise caused her to nearly drop her lantern down to the bottom floor. With her grip firmly on the lantern, she gently knocked on the wooden door and stepped inside.

She was in a bed chamber, sparsely decorated save for some curtains hanging loosely in front of the windows, and a bed pushed up against a wall. Sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep, was an old man.

“Sir!” Levisia rushed in and shook the man away. Clearly not expecting to be woken, the old man lashed out with his limbs. Levisia stepped back to avoid being hit, and held her lantern aloft so that her face was clearly visible in the gloom.

The old man soon calmed down and glared up at Levisia.

“Who are ya’? Never seen ya’ before…” The old man muttered. “What are ya’ doing ‘ere?”

“My name is Princess Levisia White. We need to leave, sir. There’s a kraken on the loose and it might strike this lighthouse at any given moment.”

“Kraken? What the hell do ya’ mean?”

Before Levisia could respond, there was an ear-piercing roar that shook Levisia to her core. She rushed over to the window and threw back the curtains in time to see a tentacle fly by the window.

The sight seemed to spur the old man into action, as he leapt from his bed and grabbed Levisia by the arm. Together, they made their way down the stairs to the ground floor. Levisia was amazed at the speed the old man was running at. He appeared to be the type who would need a walking stick just to move, and there he was, racing down the stairs as if they were nothing. If the old man was not holding onto her arm, she would have been left behind.