The bird landed on the capital's walls. Elentari, sitting and reading on her phone, turned it off and stood up.
Corvian opened his eyes abruptly, sprang to his feet, and hurried down.
Elentari turned toward him and saw him dismount from the bird, bend forward, and vomit onto the walkway, bracing himself against the battlement.
Corvian, his face pale, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth.
He burned it in the palm of his hand, then began to breathe irregularly, close to collapsing.
Elentari took her bag, pulled out a bottle of water, and handed it to him.
Corvian accepted it, murmuring in a low, hoarse voice, "Thank you," and drank slowly.
Elentari watched him drink and asked, "What's gotten into you?" Footsteps interrupted her attention.
She turned and saw soldiers in arcane exosuits, armor enhanced by magic that increased the strength of those who wore it.
They stopped in front of the two; the squad leader stepped forward, lowered his helmet, placed a hand over his left chest, and said in a firm, measured voice:
"It is an honor to have you back in the capital, Countess Elentari."
Elentari gave a brief upward nod to the squad leader, then turned to Corvian, still pale and leaning against the battlement.
Carefully she asked him, "Do you want to come to the assembly?"
Corvian stopped leaning on the battlement, straightened up, and, turning toward her, said, "I'll send you the information on your phone. I have things to do."
Taking out his phone and unlocking it, he noticed a notification from an unknown number.
He turned the screen toward her and asked, "Is this your number?" She nodded.
"They gave me your number so I could contact you, but you never replied."
He shared the information he had written in his notes, then put the phone away and headed toward the connecting stairs.
Elentari glanced at the message, then put it away and headed toward the bird.
She stroked it as soon as she reached it and said, "I'll be gone for the assembly. Eat here calmly."
Then she returned to the squad leader and the soldiers and said, "Let's go." She began walking ahead of them, while the others followed.
Corvian descended calmly, his face still pale, but his breathing was steadying. He looked back and saw no one.
He fixed his gaze forward again and, rubbing his temple, sighed.
Shortly afterward, he reached the city beneath the walls. Although the surroundings were lively, his vision began to blur and his breathing became irregular again.
Detached from reality, he walked relying solely on instinct.
He did not notice a car out of control, speeding straight toward him.
The people around him, seeing the vehicle rushing toward the pedestrians, panicked and fled, trying to get away from the site of the imminent accident.
A hand grabbed Corvian's shoulder and pulled him back, moving him out of imminent danger. The car crashed into a building and exploded.
After the touch on his shoulder and the explosion, Corvian became more aware, and his vision grew clearer.
His breathing, which moments before had been irregular, steadied slightly, while tension took over. The flames before him were reflected in his eyes.
Had he remained there, even if he would not have died, he could have suffered injuries that would have made wielding his sword more difficult.
The person behind him passed by and continued on. Corvian turned, making sure it was indeed the one who had saved him, then approached her with quick steps.
He wanted to catch up to thank her, but the distance between them did not seem to shrink, even as he quickened his pace.
He understood then: the person ahead of him was the cause. He stopped and said, "Thank you."
The figure neither replied nor stopped to give him any sign. Corvian then resumed walking slowly toward his original destination.
As soon as his attention returned to his initial objective, he clenched his teeth and rubbed his temples; his breathing became irregular again.
In a low voice he said, "I need to hurry," and slightly increased his pace.
Shortly afterward he arrived at a church of light-colored stone, with simple Gothic arches.
The stained-glass windows were panels of reinforced glass engraved with glowing runes, serving both as illumination and as a magical barrier.
Corvian walked toward the door, entered, and sat on one of the pews. He closed his eyes and began to recite: "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."
After reciting the prayer, he sighed with relief. He opened his eyes and took the Bible that was beneath the pew, beginning to read the Book of Daniel, focusing on the written words.
A few rows of pews ahead of Corvian, a woman was kneeling at the kneeler.
Her eyes were closed and her hands clasped; in a low voice she prayed: "My Lord, I ask you to have mercy on your daughter. My mother and my brother continue to insist that I find a companion, but I wish for your will to guide me. If it is your will, my Lord, I hope to meet the right person here, in your house. Amen."
When she opened her eyes after the prayer, the grayish violet of her irises lit up under the soft lighting of the church.
She stood up, and her dark brown hair, crossed by violet reflections, swayed slightly. She left the pew and walked down the aisle.
In one of the pews behind her, someone was sitting. It was a working day; the sun had risen only recently and, for someone, arriving at that hour was rare.
What caught her attention, however, was the familiarity of the person seated there: a boy detached from reality, almost involved in an accident.
She gave him only a brief glance and continued toward the exit.
Once outside, she saw a car parked a bit far from the church. Reaching the car, she sat in the passenger seat.
While fastening her seatbelt, she said to the boy next to her, "You didn't need to come pick me up."
The boy had black hair, cut short and always neat, and dark gray eyes. Even while seated, his posture remained composed and solid.
He started the car and replied, "Mother asked me to come pick you up. Besides, I have time before going to work."
After that exchange, they said nothing else. The car stopped shortly after in front of the Thorneval residence.
The boy turned toward her and asked, "Will you attend today's assembly, Acherine?"
Acherine unfastened her seatbelt and, in a cold voice, replied, "It is a mandatory event for the high nobility, Alaric."
Then she got out of the car, closing the door behind her.
Getting out of the car, Alaric clicked his tongue slightly. "Tch. Exceptions exist, even among high-ranking nobles. Like one of the four dukes, who shows up rarely."
Acherine said nothing and kept walking.
The Thorneval residence stood imposing, with elegant and modern lines, a well-kept façade, and large dark glass windows.
In front of it, a tidy garden with precise hedges and light stone paths completed the image of luxury and authority.
As soon as they entered the villa, a middle-aged woman hugged Acherine the moment she saw her.
Gently stroking her hair, she said, "Good morning, dear."
Acherine did not return her mother's hug and said, "Mother, I do not need Alaric to come pick me up. The church is close to the residence."
Acherine stiffened her shoulders slightly, a brief movement, almost imperceptible.
The hug loosened, and her mother found herself one step back, her hands sliding away and lowering. Space remained between them, as if it had always been there.
The woman hesitated for a moment, her hands still suspended in midair, then slowly lowered them, as if she herself had decided to take a step back.
Looking at both of them, she smiled and said, "Come with me, I wanted to talk to you about something."
Acherine and Alaric followed her in silence.