After several hours of walking through the woods from Ethria to Edaryn, I checked the bandage I had applied to the cut under my foot left by the tree creatures. I took a break to pick some fruits that would give me the energy I needed to continue my journey. I might not have known all the corners of the world and had never set foot outside of Ethria, nor even Silyra or Dartveyn, but I knew quite a bit about the wild fruits that could be found in the various Kingdoms.

I had already noticed several Laramea sprouts, small blue fruits that looked like tears and seemed particularly juicy. However, they were among the most toxic fruits in all the Kingdoms combined. They were unfortunately one of the easiest varieties to find, and I was now a witness to that. The ones I was looking for weren’t rare either, but more discreet, as they were wrapped in the leaves of the trees. Only one type of tree produced them, and that was the clue I was looking for as I moved along the small paths.

In my search, I came face to face with an Etheryd, a small deer with shimmering white fur, which was poking its nose into a bunch of Ardenth, fruits that looked like little fiery stars and were known for their spicy properties that brought warmth to those who needed it. I watched the animal with admiration that I didn’t try to hide. Hidden behind a tree, I analyzed its soft coat and small hooked black antlers that stood above its head as it gently licked its pink muzzle.

It was absolutely magnificent. I had never had the chance to see one in real life, only in books… They were shy and easily frightened, rarely showing themselves to humans. In fact, humans were known to hunt them for their hearts, which was so pure it could heal many wounds that nothing else could ever heal. If an Etheryd approached a human, the trust it placed in them was infinite, and it would be willing to give its life for them.

When my hand moved a tree branch, the creature straightened up abruptly and disappeared into the shadows of the woods like a white ghost. A bit disappointed, I sighed and resumed my search, a strange feeling in the back of my neck. I tried to push it away, to ignore it, but unease took over my body and made me look around more closely. Nothing.

With clenched teeth and a twisted stomach, I finally found the tree I was looking for and carefully unwrapped the small berries. Vigortias. They had a dark green skin and a sweet, delicate flesh. It is said that eating this fruit brings a deep connection with the surrounding nature and revitalizes both mind and body. Its sweet taste danced on my tongue, and instantly, I felt my skin tingle and my senses sharpen. Colors seemed more vivid, smells more intense… However, the unease in my neck intensified, and an urgent need to look behind me made me turn my head. My eyes adjusted to the darkness that was beginning to take over the woods, and I thought I saw a dark, blurry specter flying through the trees. I blinked, and it was gone, but I was sure I hadn’t imagined it.

~

The next day, I finally arrived at a small, impoverished village on the outskirts of Edaryn. I had managed to avoid the entrances guarded by the King's men by traversing the woods. With the hood of my leather armor fixed over my head, I avoided drawing attention and took the less crowded paths. However, a young girl spotted me and, with her wide hazel eyes, asked if I was a knight. I seized the opportunity to question her about the village where I had landed, and whether she had seen any other "knights" here, hoping for a clue about the whereabouts of the Black Dragons.

I found myself in Thatchford, a rather gloomy place where smiles were rare and there was no trace of those I sought.

I noticed several homeless villagers, their clothes torn and stained, and their skin devoid of color. The young girl I had encountered was named Thenna. Her bare feet looked frostbitten, and her frail little fingers trembled when I handed her my scarf. Her dirty hair was braided in the same way Lirael often did, and a weight settled on my chest. Yet, Thenna gave me the most beautiful smile, and I did my best to return one that might bring a bit of cheer to this gray day.

After hours traversing the countryside, it became clear to me that the Black Dragons had once again moved, no longer within the realm. I would need to refocus on my initial plan: deciphering the riddle that would lead me to the prisoner. He held the key I sought, though the door it would unlock remained a mystery.

The words echoed incessantly in my mind:

“In a kingdom where silence reigns,

Look for the one who mourns the light of a star,

Under the murmurs of messengers, where power has fled,

In the shadow of his throne,

Forgotten, power waits, alone and without a crown.”

My next destination was the Kingdom of Gethia, neighboring Edaryn. But what awaited me there? It was the sole lead in response to the riddle, yet it offered me no certainty.

I stopped at a tavern not far from the village's edge. It was a quiet place, and the waitress working there greeted me warmly as she slid a beer down the counter.

“The first one's on the house for new faces," she announced cheerfully, leaning her elbows on the counter, chin resting on the backs of her hands fingers adorned with multiple rings. "Doesn't happen every day... What ill wind brings you to Thatchford, miss?”

I studied her for a moment. Her long, thick hair, earthy brown, was skillfully braided into multiple plaits that wound around her head. Main braids were interlaced with linen threads, adding texture and richness. Tiny beads and metal rings were delicately woven into the braids, sparkling in the light. A finer braid pulled back from her forehead kept unruly strands in place, framing her stern and resolute face.

She wore a simple brown linen dress, the fitted bodice accentuating her sturdy frame. A white apron, stained with beer and food remnants, was tied around her waist.

Lines of expression marked her face, evidence of countless smiles and laughter shared with regulars of the tavern. Her stride was brisk, leather boots striking the floor in a familiar rhythm. Her hands deftly juggled orders and coins.

“I am just traveling a bit,” I said simply, then recalled a detail Daenella had often whispered to me. Tavern keepers often know more than they let on, for they are more than just servers... they hear a thousand confessions from anyone who sits at their tables. “Truth be told, I'm a lover of good stories, legends from different realms... I've heard Edaryn has a few. I figure someone like you might know a tale or two.”

I took a sip from the now half-empty tankard of beer and locked eyes with hers, noting the discreet smile curling her lips. With a calculated gesture, she tossed her hair back and planted her hands on her slender hips. Her raspberry-colored lips stretched further. Her vivid green eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Edaryn isn't the most gossipy Kingdom, but... it's true that we harbor one that folks here prefer to forget.”

I leaned in slightly, intrigued. She cupped her hand to her lips as if about to share a secret.

“Many years ago, a tragedy occurred in the Kingdom... Witnesses claimed they saw black riders in Edaryn... chasing something. Someone.”

I furrowed my brow, realizing what she was telling me. She was talking about the Black Dragons, I was sure of it... Their name was unknown to other Kingdoms, as they acted under the control of King Urian and not others. But what were they chasing?

“A boy.”

The prisoner. The one I was searching for. He had been found in Edaryn.

“It's said he was ill. That he wasn't in his right mind... He saw things others couldn't see... People were afraid of him. And one day, he became the monster everyone believed him to be. He allegedly carried out several sacrifices... It started with small animals, then horses, cows... No one could prove it, until the day he attacked a little girl. The black riders came for him, and after several days of searching, they finally took him away. Far away. To a place where he could never harm anyone again.”

“A prison?” I asked, captivated.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “People believed he was a devil's creation, and couldn't be treated like a criminal. His punishment was meant to be endless, a personal hell. Some say he plots revenge... hidden, somewhere, waiting for a chance to escape. In a place where no one can hear him scream, where no one can witness his madness or suffer the consequences of his curse. Others say he's closer... than we think. Watching us from the depths of his mad consciousness... singing to the darkness to set him free.”

A shiver ran through me. Closer? What if the prisoner had never left Edaryn? Perhaps I was wrong... The silence had nothing to do with King Siorlas. I needed to search here, in the Kingdom. But where?

“In a kingdom where silence reigns,

Look for the one who mourns the light of a star,

Under the murmurs of messengers, where power has fled,

In the shadow of his throne,

Forgotten, power waits, alone and without a crown.”

“Any idea where he might be?” I asked.

The tavern keeper opened her mouth to reply, but an old drunk sitting nearby turned towards us, hiccupping, one eye closed from a black eye.

“You must be mad to seek where he is. This legend should remain buried, just like the boy. We'll all be cursed.”

He stood up suddenly, knocking over his beer, and jabbed a crooked finger at me.

“Woe unto you! Woe! You ask too many questions, you'll lead us to ruin, you witch!”

The young woman whistled, and quickly, two men appeared behind the old man, who spat at them before being grabbed by both arms. I watched, trying to maintain my composure and steady my breath. This man had truly lost control over this story... But how true was it?

“Our ruin! Stop her before she frees him! She seeks the Devil, she'll unleash his darkness! We're lost! Lost! She's manifested his curse upon us! We must flee!”

Dragged forcefully towards the exit, the drunkard shouted and stared at me with his open eye, as if trying to pierce my soul, and muttered:

“Escape the cursed shadows of Kieran.”