In the distant landscape, a procession wound its way through the misty valley, the rattle of carriage wheels and the soft thud of horses' hooves echoing through the chilly air. The horses' breath misted as they traversed the snow-covered terrain, accompanied by riders, servants, and luggage carts. At the center of the procession, a magnificent ornate carriage stood out, its intricately carved wooden frame and velvet curtains a testament to its occupant's wealth and status.
Within the carriage, a man sat beside the window frame, gazing out at the winter wonderland. His silver hair cascaded down his back like a river of moonlight, and his eyes shone with a soft, ethereal glow, as if the stars themselves had imbued his gaze with their silvery light. His eyelashes, indecently long and thick for a man, framed his eyes with a subtle allure, even beneath the mask that partially concealed his face. Yet, it was his visage that betrayed his true nature – a face so breathtakingly beautiful that one might easily mistake him for an angel, unaware that he was, in truth, a sorcerer.
The carriage's interior was warm and luxurious, lined with plush velvet and soft candlelight, which danced across his features, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. His mask, adorned with intricate silver filigree, seemed to gleam in harmony with his hair, adding an air of mystery to his already enigmatic presence. As he gazed out the window, his eyes seemed to hold a deep longing, leaving one to ponder the secrets hidden beneath his masked visage.
The misty valley stretched out before them, a vast expanse of snow-covered hills and forests, shrouded in a mystical silence. The sound of carriage wheels and horses' hooves echoed through the stillness, a rhythmic accompaniment to the sorcerer's contemplative gaze.
Beside him, to his left, sat Ember, his kin. To his right sat Morgan, a figure whose relationship with the sorcerer was shrouded in ambiguity – neither friend nor foe, but rather a tolerated companion, bound by ties that neither seemed to cherish nor despise. The sorcerer's heart, long rumored to be as cold as the winter landscape they traversed, seemed to render him impervious to the warmth of friendship.
Ember's gaze was fixed intently on the sorcerer, as if searching for a glimmer of emotion behind his mask, while Morgan's eyes seemed to bore into the scenery, his thoughts a mystery even to those who knew him best. The sorcerer's dead heart, a metaphor for his emotional numbness, seemed to cast a pall over the carriage's luxurious interior, rendering even the warm candlelight cold and distant.
As the carriage rolled on, the silence between the three men grew thicker, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of the horses' hooves and the soft rustle of velvet curtains.
Morgan broke the silence, his voice laced with frustration. "Why did we even have to ride in a carriage? We could have easily flown on broomsticks and saved time. We could have packed all the luggage in a carpetbag and avoided the tedious journey by road." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wincing as he added, "I've been sitting for too long, and my back is sore. I'm starting to feel like I'm stuck in this carriage forever." Ember's gaze remained fixed on the sorcerer, but his eyes flickered with interest at Morgan's suggestion.
"Besides," Morgan continued, "if we'd flown in on broomsticks under the cover of night, we would have arrived before anyone even knew we were coming. The Lycan would have had no choice but to receive us, and we could have settled matters quickly." The sorcerer's expression remained enigmatic, but a hint of amusement danced in his eyes.
"You know as well as I do, Morgan, that the Lycan's territory is not exactly welcoming to witches. If we'd flown in uninvited, it would have been seen as a provocation, and I don't want Kiel to see me as his enemy," the sorcerer said, his voice talking on a dry tone. "And I'm sure the Lycan would have been... delighted to open the gates for us, only to prepare for battle. And I don't want that. We ask for permission before entering his land."
Morgan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Permission? When did you start asking for permission, don't you always get to do things your way." The sorcerer's mask glinted in the candlelight, his eyes narrowing slightly as he replied, "When it comes to Kiel, I we always ask for permission. I can always have my way with others, but with Kiel, we never do that. I won't do what would make him hate me. Other people may hate me as much as they want, but if Kiel does, it would break my heart.
Morgan sneered in a beautifully bad way and said, "I can't believe the world of permission is coming from the person who made humans purchase some mountain land in darkwood, deceiving the Lycan into thinking it was a human who purchased the land. I wonder how he would feel when he discovers that it's a witch who owns the land, and not just any ordinary one – a powerful one, to be precise." The sorcerer's gaze didn't waver, but a flicker of emotion seemed to dance in his eyes, hinting at a deeper complexity beneath his enigmatic surface.
Morgan's sneer deepened, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And did you just say it would break your heart? Why would it break your heart when you don't have one, as far as I remember? your heart as been frozen since when you were born, and you've been talking and acting weird since we started this journey. If I didn't know better, I'd think you're a fake person – like someone's possessed your body – if it weren't for the fact that the power coming from you is real. But is not like someone would dare take over your body.
The sorcerer's gaze didn't waver, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and warning. "You should get used to it, Morgan," he said, his voice low and even. "If you're going to be dealing with Kiel, you'll be seeing more of this kind of... emotional vulnerability from me. Let's just say that Kiel has a way of getting under my skin.
Morgan raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Emotional vulnerability? You? I would have believed it if I hadn't seen how dangerous and heartless you are with my own eyes." The sorcerer's mask seemed to gleam , his eyes flashing with a hint of irritation.
The sorcerer's reply was measured, his voice controlled. "You'd do well to remember that there's more to me than meets the eye, Morgan. And when it comes to Kiel, I'd advise you to tread carefully. He's not someone to be trifled with, and
Neither am I when it comes to him," the sorcerer said, his voice low and even And why did you follow me in the first place when I didn't even ask you to tag along" the sorcerer asked Morgan, his tone laced with a hint of annoyance.
Morgan shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "Who said I was following you? I'm here because of Ember."
"Ember, why are you not saying anything?" Morgan asked, his gaze turning to the silent figure.
Ember's gaze flickered between the two, his expression unreadable. "What do you expect me to say?" he asked finally, his voice laced with a hint of irony. "I'm happy for the change of scenery."
Morgan's eyes widened in incredulity. "Did you just say happy? Isn't it crazy that he's abandoned his people, his duty, and everything – leaving his throne and duty in charge of Revanna? You know the full responsibility he put on the girl." Morgan's tone was biting, his words dripping with disdain.
The sorcerer's eyes flashing with a hint of irritation. "And here I thought you thought differently," Morgan continued, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But you're just birds of the same feather.
"Who told you that I dumped all the responsibility on her" the sorcerer asked, his voice was calm, yet laced with a hint of irritation. "I'll always be there when they need me, and it's not like she's the only one – Grandmother was there too."
Morgan's expression turned skeptical. "Really Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've abandoned your duties and left her to deal with the consequences."
The sorcerer's mask seemed to gleam in the candlelight, his eyes flashing with a hint of warning. Ember's gaze flickered between Morgan and the sorcerer, his expression turn tense.
If you irritate me further, I'll send you flying out the window," the sorcerer threatened, his voice dropping to a menacing tone.
Morgan's eyes flashed with defiance, but he seemed to think better of pushing the sorcerer further. The air was thick with tension as the sorcerer's words hung in the air,as a clear warning.
The carriage came to a sudden halt, sending its occupants stumbling into each other. "What the hell just happened?" Ember exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.
Lilith, one of the sorcerer's familiars, stood at the side of the carriage, her gaze fixed on something outside. "Some people are blocking our way," she reported.
"What kind of people?" the sorcerer asked, his voice was laced with authority.
They're elves," Lilith replied, her voice steady. "And they're saying they won't allow us to pass through their land."
In the fading light the sorcerer's gaze became even more intense, his eyes narrowing . "How... inconvenient," he murmured.