The carriage ride was short. For the first time since she knew him, Taront was nervous. He continued to move his legs up and down nervously, causing the wooden planks forming the floor of the carriage to vibrate. So he's human too, eventually, Taryn thought, looking at him.
Her brave knight, sitting in front of her, observed the landscape from a crack of the green curtains, while Grander, at her side, stared at an indefinite point above Taront's head in front of him, his gaze focused and thoughtful.
Due to a jolt the carriage stopped and all four turned their heads towards the wooden door that opened creaking. Taryn breathed deeply again, as her companions preceded her and exited the carriage, one after the other. The vehicle swayed every time one of them descended and the steps creaked dangerously.
As soon as all the men were outside, Taryn moved to the cloth seat and put her hands on the edge of the door, hoisting herself to get out. As soon as she wa
Athelstan Athelstan walked along the corridor leading to the throne room. The sun penetrated through the large windows of the stone corridor. His mother had left him alone with the counselors and his father. After the decision of the various lords to accompany Athelstan, the king finally decided to attend the meeting with the priests. Athelstan did not know if the choice was dictated by pride or necessity, but he was sure that having him around was not a good idea, his father did not seem in a good mood that day. Athelstan walked down the corridor with wide strides, at his side two lords who were part of the council. He did not remember their names, they were accompanied by the guards whom he had ordered not to let anyone into the throne room to prevent any spread of the news that knights of Haefest were there. When he entered the hall he found his father already seated on the stone throne, the crown shimmering under the sun's rays, the circular golden circle was set with blue gems
AthelstanSilence fell in the hall. Athelstan looked at his father as he stared into the emptiness in front of him."The ancient stories say nothing about the Deorghs, they are beings created, perhaps, after Werod's defeat. The little information we have is terrible and portends dark omens for the kingdom of men," began the master beside the king in a somber tone. "Four beings created with a part of Werod himself, capable of bringing him back to life if they ever combine their powers into one, creating a container, a body capable of being used by pure darkness, which will allow him to walk on the earth again. And if that happens, if the four demons succeed in creating their own Bringan, endless darkness will descend upon the world, and no man can be saved.""Do four of them have to be able to do that? Do they need to unify the power of four Deorghs in order to bring Werod back to earth?" The king turned his head towards the master and s
AthelstanThe place where they had dumped all the debris and waste from the accident was outside the walls, beyond the stone bridge leading to the city, in an uninhabited and flat area at the foot of the promontory. Not even the peasants ventured into that place because of all the legends that had been handed down for generations.Inside the promontory, carved into the rock, there was the great Bochus of Locrand. The place where all the ancient tomes of the old sages had been collected, all the books that told the history of the world and how human beings had been created by the goddess Waruld. And everything there was to know about the great war that had been fought thousands of years before them.For centuries, however, Locrand's Bochus had been completely sealed; the king of Locrand, an ancestor of his, had decided not to let anyone in after atrocities were committed inside.Athelstan remembered the tales of the
SumonSumon walked briskly along the corridors of the fortress. Anyone who met her would make a half-bow and get out of her way, noticing her mood. She was headed to her rooms, feeling the fury growing inside her with every step she took and the blood boiling in her veins."Sumon." Nathan behind her called her, trying to keep up.The embroidered skirt of the green dress she wore rubbed the floor, while she took off the earrings she was wearing, holding them in her hands and rattling them together.The sound of her footsteps echoed on the stone floor as she turned the corner of the corridor, entering the space where her chambers were located. From the balconies she could see the sun on the horizon, now almost completely set, while the sky darkened making the air colder.On the left was the door of her room guarded by two guards who as soon as they saw her bowed their heads.She grabbed the handle and pu
SumonNathan raised his head and looked out, his gaze lost in the void."She's dead. She's gone."He closed his eyes, as if in pain, as if Sumon had just slapped him."She's been dead for five years and she's not going back, you have to keep going, you can't stay in the past forever," she said seriously, in a small voice trying to be as delicate as possible. She didn't want to break him, not entirely."It's to look to the future that I sent Doreon away," Nathan sighed."What?" asked Sumon in surprise. "Do you really think I would be with him while you and I try to have an heir? Do you really think I'm that stupid?" the anger returned to hit her violently."You were stupid enough to talk about something like that in an open place where anyone could hear you!"Nathan said through gritted teeth, turning to his and looking at her fiercely."But no one heard us!" he replied furiousl
When she reached the wooden door, she motioned to the guard to stay out of the room and then entered, without deigning to knock on the door: she did not have to ask permission to stay there. She was Nathan's wife and being in those rooms was her duty at the time.The room was lit by candles scattered everywhere, shadows were casting on the wall, moving from time to time when there was a displacement of air. The windows were closed and the curtains pulled so that the moonlight could not penetrate and illuminate the gloomy space.In the room there were only the masters and Nathan. The king was lying in bed, in the middle of the pillows, his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily.The prince was sitting next to him, he had one of his skeletal hands between his, he held it tightly and looked him in the face.The masters were around the table in the middle of the room and did nothing but talk to each other and fidget between bottles containing liquids o
The commander The commander passed between the barracks of the village, walking slowly overtook the structure created specifically for them, for all three commanders, placed in the center of the village. People were standing in line in front of the counters of their home, waiting for the bag with daily food to be handed to them. The guards were preparing what they needed. Some were positioned behind wooden tables and were arranging bags with food in front of them, while other guards were busy maintaining order and checking that no one disobeyed or created chaos. Everyone would be given food, regardless of who arrived first. It wasn't much, it wasn't enough for them, but the man couldn't do anything more. His hands were tied, there was no other way to help his people. He and his cousin, in four years, had already done everything necessary so that the people of Cynemon could rise up and survive until they found a way to take them away from that cursed land. Thanks to the friendship
"And the two of you? Why didn't you accompany her?" he asked the other two warriors. "And get on that infernal trap that she carry with her?" replied Barclay, taking off his dirty tunic and throwing it to the ground. His Cynemon accent was heard when he spoke in the Cynemon language. He passed the rag over his chest, removing the dirt off his back. "Our commander doesn't like to use ordinary transport to reach Mihdel," Lyza replied. Before taking a deep breath and holding his breath, he stuck his head in the bucket of water. "So you let her go alone?" he asked. Lyza pulled out her head. The strands of black hair that had not been gathered along with the tail, stuck to her forehead. "She's not alone, Vhrax is with her," Lyza said again, rising from the ground and running the cloth around her neck. "A dragon is worth more than a thousand soldiers," she continued, approaching him. "And then," Barclay injected, "it was a silent and stealthy mission, not one of those kings of Mihdel