chapitre 18

Chapter 18

Elion rode at the head of the procession, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon that stretched out before him. The road to the southern border was winding, meandering through thick forests and rocky hills. Ten knights followed in silence, their light armor producing a slight rattling with each movement of their mounts. Veyla rode just behind Elion, her bow at hand, her gaze peering into the shadows of the surrounding forest.

The wind was cold, loaded with the humidity of the mountains. The trees, twisted by the weight of the years, cast disturbing shadows along the way. Elion felt the tension in the air, a sense of diffuse threat that had not left him since they left the castle.

"We're almost there," said Veyla, pointing to a steep hill in the distance. "The black river is right behind this ridge."

Elion nodded and pulled lightly on the reins of his horse, slowing him down as they approached the summit. The knights automatically deployed in formation, ready to face any attack.

As they crossed the ridge, the spectacle that presented itself to them made Elion shudder.

At the foot of the hill, the bed of the Black River was littered with corpses. The mutilated bodies of the Knights of Sky and Volgras were scattered on muddy ground. The blood had permeated the earth, forming dark puddles along the shore. Some armor was torn, as if gigantic claws or fangs had crushed it.

"By the gods..." whispered Veyla.

Elion dismounted from his horse in a flexible motion and slowly advanced among the corpses. He knelt beside a body, removing his glove to examine the wound. The cut was sharp, deep, but the edges of the wound bore traces of black burn.

"Black magic," he whispered.

Veyla knelt beside him, his dark expression.

"Do you think they're creatures?"

Elion put a finger on the edge of the wound, feeling the residual magic shudder under his skin.

"Not just creatures. Someone directs them."

He stood up, his eyes dark.

"Gather the bodies," he ordered the knights. "We'll take them back to Sky."

The knights immediately complied, their expressions tense as they lifted the mutilated bodies.

Veyla approached Elion, her eyes grave.

"If Volgras learns that black magic is involved, they will blame Sky."

Elion nodded slowly.

"That's exactly what our enemy wants."

"Who could orchestrate such an attack?"

Elion clenched his fists.

"There are several suspects. But few people master black magic at this level."

"The neighboring kingdom of Drassil?" suggested Veyla.

Elion shook his head.

Drassil has no interest in provoking an open war between Sky and Volgras. They would benefit more from seeing us weaken each other."

Veyla crossed her arms.

"So who?"

Elion looked at the Black River, his mind coldly analyzing the situation.

"If black magic is at stake..." He paused, his gaze darkened. "It could be the Demon Empire."

Veyla pale.

"But the Demon Empire was destroyed centuries ago..."

"Destroyed? Or just asleep?"

A quiver ran through the knight column as Elion's words rose in the icy air.

"We have to go back to Sky immediately," said Elion, getting back on his saddle.

They resumed the road to the castle at a steady pace. Elion felt impatience and fear in the ranks of his knights, but his expression remained impassive.

When they walked through Sky's gates at nightfall, Rowen waited for them on the steps of the palace, her face stretched out.

"Majesty! What happened?"

Elion got off the horse and motioned to Rowen to follow him into the council chamber.

- "An attack by a creature with black magic."

Rowen turned pale.

"Black magic?"

"Yes."

Rowen wiped her forehead with a trembling gesture.

"The king of Volgras demands an answer. He wants to know if Sky is behind this attack."

"Prepare a delegation," said Elion. "We will meet the king of Volgras in person."

"Majesty, is it prudent?"

Elion approached Rowen, his ice look piercing the chancellor.

Volgras is on the brink of war. We must act quickly before they make an irreparable mistake."

Rowen nodded.

"All right, majesty. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"What about the threat?"

Elion stopped in front of the great map of the kingdom hanging on the wall. His finger slowly traced the path between Sky and the Black River.

"I want scouts to patrol the southern border all the time. Any trace of creature or magical activity must be reported to me immediately."

Rowen bowed deeply.

"At your orders, majesty."

Veyla approached Elion after Rowen's departure.

"Are you really going to meet the king of Volgras?"

"Yes."

"He might try to stop you."

"He won't get a chance."

Veyla smiled slightly.

"Do you have a plan?"

Elion turned to the map, his dark look.

"Always."

In the shadow of the palace, a hooded figure watched the scene from an alcove. An icy breeze roamed the room, briefly extinguishing the flames of the torches.

"It's progressing fast... too fast," whispered the figure.

Then she disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind a scent of ashes and sulfur.