Chapter 21: Silverweynn part 2

[ ] = Doruuk thoughts

A sharp knock on the door interrupts the silence of my room. I instinctively grab the blanket and wrap myself completely, hiding every inch of my skin.

"Enter," I say with a firm voice.

A servant enters, slightly bowing his head in respect. His eyes avoid meeting mine, as if fearing what he might see.

"Sir, the Great Lord requests that you prepare yourself properly," he announces in a formal tone.

"I will do so shortly," I reply, studying his every movement.

"The Great Lord wishes to know which clothes you prefer to wear."

[I could ask for luxurious and comfortable attire, it would be logical in a dwelling like this.]

[But I will not yield to temptations.]

I slightly raise my chin and respond decisively: "Tell the Great Lord that I desire the clothes I was wearing previously. He will understand what I am referring to."

The servant nods. "Certainly, sir. I will bring your garments as soon as possible."

When the door closes, I remain motionless for a few moments, assessing the situation. Every sound, every shadow could hide danger. Distrust is a companion that has never abandoned me.

The servant returns shortly after with a bundle of neatly folded clothes. I observe them carefully: identical to those I had before, but made with superior quality materials. Fine fabrics that maintain the modest appearance of the original. An intelligent choice by the master of the house.

"Thank you," I say simply, taking the garments.

After the servant withdraws, I head to the bathroom. Hot water flows over my skin, washing away layers of dried blood and accumulated dirt. The blood forms reddish spirals that disappear down the drain, carrying with them memories of recent events.

[A fresh shower, after such a long time, is truly relaxing and pleasant. But I cannot lower my guard, not even here.]

I close my eyes for an instant, allowing myself this brief moment of weakness. The water washes away tension, but not suspicion. In a world like this, survival depends on constant vigilance.

Once finished with the shower, I methodically dry myself and don the new clothes. The fabric flows over my skin like a caress, a luxury I had forgotten. Yet, my face remains impassive. Comfort is another weakness I cannot afford.

I return to the room and sit on the edge of the bed, immersing myself in my thoughts, analyzing every possible escape route, every potential threat. The vigilant mind never allows itself complete rest.

Another knock at the door brings me back to reality.

"Sir, the Great Lord requests your presence in the main hall," announces the servant's voice.

"I'll come immediately," I respond, rising with a fluid movement.

I grab my blanket and wrap myself completely, leaving only my eyes visible. The protection it offers goes beyond the physical; it hides my identity, my past, my intentions. This way, I remain an enigma, impossible to decipher.

The servant guides me through the corridors of the villa. Our footsteps resonate on the marble tiles, creating an eerie rhythm in the imposing silence. The walls are adorned with tapestries and paintings that tell stories of past glory, of battles won and lost. I observe every detail, memorizing the layout of the rooms, the positions of the guards, the possible exit routes.

The villa is vast, a labyrinth of opulence and power. We cross halls and corridors, descending elegant staircases until we reach the main hall. The journey seems endless, giving me time to mentally prepare for the possible situations I might face.

When we finally arrive, the vision before me is that of a long banquet table, around which numerous individuals are seated. I immediately recognize the familiar traits suggesting kinship with Lillia and Frenya. Aristocratic faces, rigid postures, eyes that hide secrets.

My entrance causes an immediate interruption of conversations. All those present turn toward me, curious and suspicious gazes attempting to penetrate my protective veil. I can feel the silent questions floating in the tense air.

Solmir, the master of the house, stands up. His imposing figure dominates the hall, emanating a natural authority that demands immediate respect.

"I ask for everyone's attention," he announces in a deep voice that reverberates through the hall. "The man you see before you is the one who allowed our daughters, Lillia and Frenya, to survive. He has requested to keep his identity hidden, not desiring fame or recognition. But his actions speak louder than his appearance."

I carefully observe the reactions of those present as Solmir continues his speech.

"My daughter has narrated to me in detail the events that occurred in the portal: how she met him, his actions, his behavior, the calm maintained in extreme situations. I must admit that he was extraordinary. Every strategy he devised worked to perfection, and thanks to him, both survived, while all others present perished. They were the only ones to survive an event that should have overwhelmed them! I therefore invite you to applaud in his honor."

Applause spreads through the hall, but my experienced eyes notice the discrepancy between gestures and expressions. Hands clap mechanically, but gazes remain cold, calculating. The appearance of gratitude hides suspicion and, perhaps, envy. It doesn't surprise me; true human nature always emerges in small inconsistencies.

"Please, be seated," Solmir invites me with a gesture of his hand. "Make yourself comfortable and help yourself freely. If you desire something particular, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," I respond in a neutral tone, taking a seat at the end of the table, a position that allows me to observe all those present without turning my head excessively.

The banquet begins, but while others indulge in the pleasures of the table, I maintain my vigilant attention. Every movement is registered: the way they hold their utensils, the furtive glances exchanged between diners, the whispers they believe imperceptible. Nothing escapes my analysis.

Everyone pretends to be calm, but I can perceive the tension permeating the atmosphere. It's in the rigid shoulders, in the too-wide smiles, in the way fingers grip goblets. The air is charged with repressed emotions, unformulated questions, unexpressed suspicions.

I eat slowly, cautiously tasting each dish, always careful never to completely lower my guard. The food is exquisite, prepared by expert hands, but even this could be a weapon in the wrong hands.

As the meal draws to a close, I rise with a fluid movement, ready to withdraw. Solmir calls to me with a firm voice:

"Sir, I ask you to join me later. There are matters we must discuss privately."

"As you wish," I respond with a nod.

I return to my room, aware of the gazes that follow me. The sensation of being watched is not new; it's a constant in my existence.

Just after returning to my room, the door opens without warning. Frenya enters with the ease of someone who feels at home.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing? Entering without asking permission isn't polite," I say, keeping my voice calm but firm.

Frenya raises an eyebrow, amused by my reaction. "I don't think I need to ask permission to enter my own home."

[You call this villa home? Interesting how quickly one becomes accustomed to privilege.]

"Isn't it rather Lillia's house?" I respond, carefully observing her reaction.

"You're right, technically," she admits with a smile. "But my father and Lillia's have been friends for a long time. They fought together, shared adventures, faced dangers. I've never felt like a stranger here."

I look straight into her eyes, without hiding my skepticism. "Feelings and words lose value in moments of true difficulty. It's easy to feel at home when doors are open."

Frenya crosses her arms, visibly annoyed. "Why must you always speak as if the world were about to collapse? That depressed philosopher tone doesn't suit you."

"I simply state reality, without embellishments or illusions," I respond, scrutinizing her. "By the way, where is Lillia? Shouldn't you be with her?"

"She's with her father. And no, I don't have to be attached to her every moment."

"Then, what's the reason for your visit?" I ask directly.

She takes a step closer, eyes shining with curiosity. "I want to know why you cover yourself that way. You seem afraid that someone might actually see you."

"I have my reasons." My answer is dry, definitive.

"What reasons? You move as if you were terrified of being recognized."

I stare at her through the thin opening of my covering. "I don't wish to be noticed."

"Why?"

"Because too much fame can transform into a mortal danger."

Frenya shakes her head, confused. "I don't understand your way of thinking."

Without adding anything else, she extracts a folded paper from her robe and hands it to me. "Take this."

I take it, maintaining a safe distance. "What is it?"

"It's your payment, higher than the agreement established in the portal. Consider it a bonus for the exceptional success of the enterprise. These are considerable funds."

"How much exactly?" I ask, without opening the paper.

"You'll discover it by going to the Guild. Present them with this document and they will give you the sum."

She heads toward the door, but before exiting, she turns one last time. Her eyes soften, showing for an instant genuine vulnerability.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "Thanks to you, I managed to obtain my first Luminousa."

I look at her intently, seeing beyond her mask of confidence. "It was written in your destiny. I merely accelerated the inevitable."

A fleeting smile crosses her face before she closes the door behind her, leaving me once again alone with my thoughts.

Midnight finds me immersed in light sleep, that of someone who knows that every noise could signify danger. A gentle touch on the door awakens me instantly. My senses activate even before consciousness fully returns.

Solmir enters silently, a finger placed on his lips indicating the need for silence.

"Follow me," he whispers. "In silence."

I rise without asking questions. Curiosity is a luxury that can wait; immediate obedience is often the key to survival.

We move like shadows through deserted corridors. The villa, so lively during the day, is now wrapped in an unsettling silence. I notice the absence of guards and servants, usually present even during nighttime hours. An anomaly worthy of attention.

We cross the main hall, now illuminated only by the pale moonlight filtering through the tall windows. We exit to the outside, where the night air carries with it the smell of damp earth and nocturnal flowers. The garden is a labyrinth of hedges and statues, but Solmir moves with the confidence of someone who knows every stone.

We head toward a small wooden structure, almost invisible in the darkness. A simple gardener's cabin, too modest to attract attention in such a sumptuous property.

[Where is he taking me? Why so much mystery for a simple shed?]

I follow him in silence, keeping my guard up. My hand remains close to the dagger hidden among the folds of my clothes, ready to react at the slightest sign of danger.

We arrive in front of the cabin. Solmir opens the door with a fluid movement, revealing a simple and disorderly interior. Gardening tools hang on the walls, bags of soil stacked in a corner, empty pots arranged on dusty shelves.

"Why have you brought me here?" I finally ask, my voice barely a whisper in the darkness.

Solmir turns to me, his eyes shining with unexpected intensity. "Wait and you will see."

He approaches the tools, methodically moving rakes and shears. I observe him carefully as he moves with precision, as if following an invisible path. His lips move in a whisper I cannot decipher, ancient words that slide into the night air.

Then, with a deliberate gesture, he presses his thumb at the center of the room, at an apparently random point on the earthen floor.

[What is he doing? Is this madness or is there a design I cannot see?]

I wait, every muscle tense, ready to react. For five interminable seconds, nothing happens.

Then, as if in response to an invisible call, a brilliant light begins to form on the floor, slowly tracing the contours of a perfect square. The intensity increases until it becomes blinding, forcing me to narrow my eyes.

When the light dims, in place of the simple packed earth floor appears a door, carved in what looks like ancient stone, covered with symbols I do not recognize.

My eyes widen in amazement, unable to hide my surprise.

"What is this?" I ask, my voice betraying a shiver of wonder that I rarely allow myself to show.

Solmir straightens up, looking at me with an enigmatic expression. "This is one of the places known only to a few elect. Only I can access what lies beneath."

"If it is so important and secret, why show it to me? I am but a stranger in your eyes."

A subtle smile appears on the man's face. "I cannot bear the weight of unsettled debts. You saved my daughter, and this is my way of repaying you."

[He is a man of principles. He respects rules, even unwritten ones.]

A fleeting smile crosses my face, as if I had already predicted this response. "Well then, let us proceed."

I approach the mysterious door, aware that I am about to cross a threshold that could forever change the course of my destiny.

Chapter-End.