The forest seemed to thicken with every step.
The trees, immense and gnarled, formed a natural canopy that barely let the daylight filter through. Isolde walked behind Léana, her heart sinking, her fingers clenching on the fabric of her jacket.
—Are you sure it's here…? she asked hesitantly.
Léana didn't even turn around.
A calm smile—almost amused—twitched his lips.
- Absolutely. You wanted a solution, right? So trust me.
Isolde swallowed.
Then the castle appeared.
Massive. Dark.
Its blackened stones seemed to absorb light, as if the place refused to be seen. Slit gargoyles adorned the balconies, their gazes frozen in an expression of eternal menace. Greenish torches burned without smoke, giving the whole thing an… unhealthy appearance.
"It's… gloomy," Isolde murmured.
In front of the entrance, motionless figures stood straight.
Guards dressed in long black cloaks, hoods pulled down, faces completely hidden. Isolde felt a chill go down her spine.
— Léana… I don't feel it. Maybe we should—
— Too late to back down.
The large door opened slowly with a deep creak.
Inside, the air was colder.
The walls were decorated with ancient tapestries depicting battles, broken crowns, kneeling figures. Everything exuded domination and secrecy.
They arrived in a large throne room.
A man sat there, perfectly still.
Brown hair streaked with silver locks, piercing golden gaze, sovereign posture. He did not wear a crown, but his aura was enough to impose silence.
Léana bowed slightly.
— Lord, I present to you Isolde. The one I told you about.
The man's gaze fell on Isolde.
She had the impression that he saw beyond her skin... to her deepest desires.
— Come closer, Isolde.
She hesitated, then moved forward.
"I was told you could… help me," she said, lifting her chin.
But tell me… are you really capable of solving my problem?
A slow, calculated smile appeared on the man's face.
— Forgive my rudeness.
I am Fishlegs.
And I am the man who can grant all desires... even those that we never dare say out loud.
He stood up, slowly descending the steps of the throne.
—Love, revenge, power… everything has a price.
But if you're willing to pay it… then yes, Isolde. I can help you.
Isolde's heart raced.
She felt a strange warmth invade her chest.
- …All right.
Fishlegs' smile widens, enigmatic.