Chapter 48

Hello everyone,

This chapter was originally supposed to be published on Wednesday, but imagine my surprise when I realized it didn't appear. I must have made a mistake when setting the timer to publish it at a specific time.

Anyway, since the last chapter of the week was initially planned for today, I'll publish this one on Sunday instead. Starting next week, we'll return to the usual schedule: one chapter on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with occasional weekend releases.

I hope you enjoy the chapter, and have a great day!

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I stood stunned by the unexpected revelation.

"The Song of Autumn's Twilight?" I said, surprised. "No book ever mentions its existence."

The woman nodded with a cryptic smile. "Indeed. That song was abandoned, silenced by those who feared its resurgence. Over time, and with growing ignorance, it transformed in the collective imagination into what you call 'the Curse of the Black Sun.'"

I brought a hand to my chin, contemplating this unsettling truth. My gaze returned to her, filled with suspicion. "Do you have any proof to back up your claims? Your sudden appearance is mysterious enough as it is. Surely, you understand why I'd have trouble believing this is mere coincidence."

Her smile widened as she gestured for me to follow. We moved closer to the water, where she performed a graceful motion with her hand. The moon's reflection on the shimmering surface shifted suddenly. In its place, a scene unfolded: an epic battle in an ancient village, its houses engulfed in flames, with structures betraying an era long past.

She continued manipulating the water as she spoke softly. "This is Toussaint as it once was. This kingdom was the cradle of the greatest knights this world has ever known. But among them, there was one just one who was my champion."

I noticed a change in her aura. Where she had once displayed unshakable confidence, a fragility now surfaced. "He saved Toussaint, and with it, the rest of the world," she added, her voice almost a whisper.

The woman looked at me and said, "I believe 'he' has already shown you the truth about this world, hasn't he?"

I was stunned that she knew of him, but I nodded. She turned her gaze back to the lake, lost in thought. "Eldarion was the first to bear my sword. But he was not my champion. Before he was a knight, he was a king a king loved and feared. But my one true champion was his successor."

She made another gesture, and a man clad in silver armor appeared in the reflection, riding a horse. He wielded a sword adorned with shimmering runes, indecipherable, as he galloped toward a menacing shadow. I squinted, easily recognizing the creatures he was fighting.

"Higher Vampires… Alp, Garkain, Fleder, Ekimmara, Nosferat, Katakan," I murmured, listing the monsters that swarmed by the hundreds.

She nodded slowly. "The world had regained a semblance of peace. Tensions between races lingered, but the monsters, while dangerous, were kept at bay. Yet, a shadow from the past emerged. A being that should have vanished with the old world: Thúrlas, prince of the first elves."

A figure took shape in the water a man with hair as black as the night, eyes red as blood, and threatening fangs. His face was the embodiment of a nightmare. But another image caught my attention: a woman with black hair who resembled Sylvanna.

Before I could speak, she interrupted me. "Yes, that is indeed an ancestor of Sylvanna. Guinevere. She fought alongside my champion against Thúrlas."

I nodded slowly, piecing together the puzzle. "Thúrlas… I thought he perished during the Great War."

She let out a sigh. "He should have. But the world no longer had the means to stop him. The old gods had departed, replaced by one powerless deity. The champions of old were gone, their heirs scattered across other worlds. Yet one man stood against him a human, filled with courage and compassion for all races. A man so charismatic he could have brought kings to their knees."

Her eyes softened as she added, almost tenderly, "My one and only true love, Arthur, champion of the Lady of the Lake and King of Toussaint."

I straightened, shocked. "You… you are the Lady of the Lake?"

She fixed me with a sorrowful smile. "Indeed, I am the Lady of the Lake."

I ran a hand over my forehead, trying to calm the storm of information swirling in my mind. "So, if I understand correctly, Arthur fought Thúrlas and defeated him. But at what cost? Why does Guinevere look so much like Sylvanna? And this song…"

She made another motion, and a new scene appeared. Guinevere, wounded, carried Arthur's body to the lake. "Guinevere possessed the Song of Autumn's Twilight a melody capable of withering the vital forces of vampires, accelerating their decay. This power could also summon a gentle yet deadly light for monsters. A perfect harmony of magic and might."

She paused, gazing at the image of Guinevere. "Arthur died from his wounds. His army, annihilated. The humans he had sworn to protect betrayed him, taking Toussaint for themselves. Guinevere, the sole survivor, was hunted down. She carried Arthur's body and Aerondight here, where she succumbed to her injuries."

The Lady of the Lake clenched her fists. "When I emerged from the water, I saw the pursuers desecrating the bodies, spitting on their memory."

"For the first time, I took up Aerondight and raised the sword against humans. In a surge of rage, I struck them down, breaking the vow I had sworn to the old gods. By intervening in the world of men, I cursed myself, condemned to never again make contact with anyone except for the rare souls with extraordinary destinies."

"Sylvanna was cursed at birth due to this absurd notion of a so-called curse when, in truth, it was the opposite. Even though I was cursed, I could still listen through any body of water. I learned that the humans who betrayed Arthur had made a pact with Thúrlas. They erased Arthur and Guinevere from history, along with their power. Those very traitors became the current rulers of Toussaint."

Shocked, I stammered, "You mean…"

She nodded before continuing. "Indeed. The current ducal family of Toussaint, the Launfals, and especially its current ruler, Anna Henrietta, are descended from those who destroyed the legacy of Arthur and Guinevere. They created the legend of the curse under Thúrlas's influence, who feared their power. All of this was fueled by the greed of corrupt leaders."

She moved toward the lake. Once in its center, she stopped and spoke to me: "I am sharing this truth with you because Sylvanna was never cursed. She possesses a true gift. I reveal this for Guinevere. For Arthur. Hear me well, Aquila: save Toussaint. Protect what Arthur and Guinevere loved. Despite the bitterness and hatred I hold, I cannot bring myself to betray Arthur's convictions or deny his dreams."

She slowly retreated into the water. Just before disappearing, her voice echoed softly. "Aquila, you resemble Arthur more than you know."

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In the depths of the lake, the water shimmered with a silvery light, illuminated by the reflection of stars. Around the Lady of the Lake, the currents seemed to dance, carrying ancient whispers like fragments of forgotten memories. She watched Aiden's silhouette, motionless, lost in thought

She gave a faint smile, one filled with a strange mix of tenderness and gravity. But when he turned away to return to the camp, she closed her eyes and averted her gaze, letting the waters regain their calm.

As she surrendered to her thoughts, two strong arms wrapped around her. A familiar warmth enveloped her, momentarily lifting the weight of the ages. She turned slowly and met Arthur's gentle smile.

"Come now, let him be. Aquila will manage," he murmured in a soothing voice.

She looked at him, wrestling with a blend of trust and unease. Finally, she broke the silence:

"But Arthur… why did you refuse to let me give him Aerondight? Even if he's still missing a few virtues, he's more worthy than any knight alive today."

Arthur turned his eyes toward the spot where Aiden had stood moments before. A glimmer of wisdom and mystery shone in his gaze.

"Not yet, my love. His time will come. Don't worry. After all, Aquila isn't just a soul strengthened by the champions of humans and elves, destined to carry their powers. He's not merely a body shaped by the gods to hold their hope…"

He paused, staring into the void with a haunting intensity.

"… He is, to you, to me, and to Guinevere, our…"

Arthur abruptly stopped speaking. His expression darkened as a shiver rippled through the surrounding waters, as though an unseen force had disturbed the lake's delicate balance. The Lady of the Lake placed a hand on his arm, but he didn't move.

"What did you see, Arthur?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Arthur took her hand in his, a sad smile touching his lips.

"Nothing that can change what must be. Trust him. The rest is up to him."