76

76
Victor Wold.
They approached... looked at me attentively, waiting for me to advance, that they attack them. But I would not do that.
I saw Princess Elowen’s eyes glow as if they were on fire. She looked at me, curious and at the same time suspicious. She was powerful, much more than I imagined, and now she looked at me as if I was the villain here, the danger to her sister.
I tried to stay calm... because I knew that my life was for three.
I started walking slowly, short steps to them.
Had to act carefully.
I wanted them to trust me, but I had to take it one step at a time.
I learned early that a boy like me, born in this world, had to think before acting. Any mistake would cost me my life.
I saw Aeloria sitting there, surrounded by a circle of black magic, her eyes swollen and red from crying, but... she widened her eyes when she saw me... a short smile appeared.
"You... shouldn’t be here," she said, her voice weak but sincere.
I stopped walking and said.
'I could not go... knowing that I was here,'' I confessed.
“I was afraid something would happen.”
One of the warriors stared at me with his weapon raised. I recognized that look. I had seen it many times before... in my father, in the clan soldiers, and in everyone who had learned to hate what was different.
But it wasn't to them that I wanted to speak; it was to Elowen.
The princess approached, steady, sword in hand, eyes flashing. She studied me as if trying to pull the truth straight from my soul.
“Who are you, boy?” she asked, her voice heavy with suspicion.
I took a deep breath. It was time.
“I was trained as a warrior from the age of six. My father always believed that the world would be better without magical beings. He taught me how to hunt fairies, how to identify the scent of a wizard, and how to recognize the pulse of spells in the air. And I... I learned because I had no choice. But...”
My voice faltered for a moment, but I quickly recovered.
“But I never agreed with him or any of them. I was always taught that anything that wasn't human deserved to be wiped out. That elves, wolves, druids... all of you... were monsters. But when I saw Aeloria, wounded, trapped, alone... I knew it was all a lie.”
Elowen didn't answer, but her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword.
I continued.
“I did what I could... I gave her water when no one else would, I gathered herbs in secret, and I cleaned her wounds, afraid of being discovered.”
“He's telling the truth,” Aeloria said suddenly, her voice trembling. “He was the one who helped me. Even though he was afraid, even though he was hiding from the others... he said he didn't want to live like his father told him to anymore.”
Elowen continued to stare at me, her silence piercing me more than any scream.
“Why should we trust you?” she asked at last, her blade now inches from my face. “What if you're deceiving me and my sister?” she said firmly.
I raised my face, not looking away. I couldn't show fear. Because the truth, however fragile it seemed, was all I had.
“Because I'm just a child trying to fix the world that adults destroyed,” I said firmly. “I just wanted us all to be able to live in peace. That's why I did what I did, even though I know I may die for it.”
The words came out stronger than I expected, but they were true, and I looked directly at Elowen.
And for a moment, I saw her eyes waver; the sword dropped a few inches.
She took a long, deep breath; her eyes went to Aeloria and then back to me.
“If you're going to help us,” she said, now in a more measured tone, “then tell us how we end this magic? How do we free Aeloria without hurting her?”
I swallowed hard.
I looked at Aeloria; she was trembling, enveloped in that black curse. Her eyes pleaded, even if her mouth did not speak. The spell that bound her was dark and ancient. I recognized it. I had seen wizards cursed with it in clan rituals; it was a spell of exchange.
“This kind of magic cannot be broken by force,” I explained. “Not with weapons, nor with direct spells. It is a binding magic. To free her, someone must exchange something of equal value...”
“Exchange something?” Elowen frowned.
“Yes. A fair exchange. Whoever wants to free her... must offer themselves in her place.”
A silence fell.
“Are you saying someone needs to be imprisoned in her place?” Render asked, glancing at Elowen.
“Not exactly,” I confirmed. “This magic was made to punish, not to kill. But it feeds on essence, on power, you understand?”
Elowen remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. Her gaze wandered between Aeloria, the dark magic, and us.
“Is there no other way?” she asked, but I already knew she knew the answer.
I shook my head slowly.
“Not the way it was done. Only if it is undone by the one who cast it. But... he is dead.”