Chapter 56 : Sadness

  A few moments later, several flashes of light appear around me. Elvaria, Alfira, and Valentin materialize at my side: the whole Novus Obris team is here, ready for battle.

  We walk through the sunlit streets of Flahoa, heading towards the local guild. Our steps draw everyone's eyes, but none of us pay any attention to it anymore. It’s always the same murmurs of fascination, envy, fear. For us, it has almost become a ritual.

  We arrive at the guild’s door and step into the imposing hall. As usual, conversations hush, and eyes turn towards us. By now, these reactions slide right off us. We’re here for a reason, and that’s all that matters.

  Elvie heads to the dark wooden counter, one arm casually resting on it, a confident smile on her lips.

  “Tell me, do you know where the Village of the Eclipse is?” she asks directly.

  The receptionist startles slightly, visibly impressed. “Y-You’re… Novus Obris!”—he’s almost too busy staring at us to listen.

  “Do you know where the Village of the Eclipse is or not?” I say, leaning in and raising my voice a little to bring the man back to reality.

  “Ah… uh… it’s a remote place in Voltruite. The locals are… let’s say, a bit strange. Are you sure you want to go there?”

  “Aley asked you a question, Mr. Receptionist!” snaps Alfira, visibly irritated.

  Under our insistent gazes, the man sighs and finally speaks, more softly this time.

  “I’m at least obliged to tell you about the legend surrounding the place. They say that, once upon a time, certain prominent figures of the Holy War spent a… night together there, shall we say. Since then, the place has been imbued with a strange energy. Those whose hearts are pure supposedly experience unforgettable adventures, visions that could bless their journey…”

  “Interesting…” murmurs Valentin, looking pensive, his gaze drifting off to memories of our previous adventures.

  “Another mysterious place tied to a legend of lost love or ancient powers…” I sigh with a smirk. “It’s like we’re magnets for these kinds of places.”

  “So, is there a quest to be done there?” asks Elvie, making sure nothing is left out.

  “A quest? For what? It’s an odd place, yes, but by no means dangerous. Do you think the people of Voltruite have nothing better to do than fight?” retorts the receptionist, visibly annoyed.

  “Oh no, don’t get us wrong, sir! Iveralmn seeks to maintain excellent relations with Voltruite,” exclaims Alfira with all the diplomacy in the world.

  “Could you provide us with a map to guide us to this village?” Elvie asks, her eyes glinting with interest.

  The receptionist nods slightly before disappearing for a moment and returning with a large map. He carefully unfolds it, revealing an old map with sepia tones, yellowed by the years.

  “It should lead you to the Village of the Eclipse. It’ll take you a few days on foot. Good luck.”

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  I step forward and take the map. Touching it, I feel a slight shiver. The map is old, worn, but filled with a poignant nostalgia, as if it has already seen many hands, roads, faces.

  I let my gaze wander around the guild. Everything here seems tinged with a melancholy hue. The adventurers surrounding us are no longer young; their marked faces tell of years of past adventures.

  “Aley,” murmurs Valentin, as if he’s guessed my thoughts. “The adventurers in isolated villages like this one are often veterans who’ve retired to live out their days in peace. They come here to, let’s say… contemplate the end of their journey.”

  “Will we end up like that too?” I look at him, caught between amusement and sadness.

  “Alfira and I, probably, yes. But you, Elvie, and Githin… you’re likely immortal. You won’t age.”

  “I’ll travel until the end of time?”

  “Most likely.”

  This thought tightens my chest, leaving me with a bitter taste of infinity. “There’s nothing sad about it, Aley,” murmurs Valentin, placing a friendly hand on my shoulder. “A true adventurer’s happiness is knowing there will always be something unexplored, a mystery to unravel.”

  I nod, turning my gaze to Elvie. I wonder if she’s eternal too. It would be unbearable to wander through eternity without her.

  And so, Novus Obris leaves the guild, with the precious map in hand.

  Somewhere in the world:

  “I’ve managed to lure them to the Village of the Eclipse…” murmurs a woman, lying in the darkness of a vast room at the top of the royal castle in the capital of Voltruite. The room is plunged into shadows; not a ray of light penetrates the thick curtains, making any attempt to guess the contours of the room in vain.

  She lies there, a satisfied smile on her lips. Her face shows no malice—just a kind of tender wonder, a nearly childlike sparkle in her gaze, as though she’s filled with a profound excitement.

  “Father, my sister… I’m going to fix what threatens our kingdom,” she murmurs, her voice laden with a mixture of hope and determination. Then suddenly, a soft, almost fragile laugh escapes her lips. It’s a free laugh, a happy laugh, as pure as a child’s on their birthday.

  Lying in the shadows, her smile widens; there is a poignant innocence in this simple joy, as if she’s clinging to a dream that cost her more than she dares admit.

  During the Holy War:

  “Aleystria, can’t you just lend me your Stria?” Llyrnoth’s voice breaks the silence that hangs over the endless expanse of the plain. Her request resonates, light and almost absurd amid the somber nothingness.

  “Llyrnoth… how many times do I have to tell you I need it,” murmurs the man beside her—Aley, or rather Aleystria, in all his characteristic restraint.

  “Not fair, Aley.”

  “You’re the one being unreasonable,” he sighs, as though recalling an old quarrel.

  Llyrnoth bursts out laughing, her white hair whipping in the wind, her silhouette trembling with the force of her mirth. “Bwahaha! I’m teasing you, come on! I could never steal your Stria—” but her sentence is cut short by an icy voice that rises like a blade slicing through the air.

  “But you sure are trying to steal my man, Llyrnoth.” Elvaristria’s voice, cold and jealous, sends a chill through the air. The possessive look she throws Aleystria’s way is impossible to miss.

  Llyrnoth rolls her eyes, exasperated. “Ah, you’re all so annoying, always judging me! I’ve got the Stria too, so the old ones asked me to join their little band of emissaries for humanity… and those stiff types really have no sense of humor.”

  Oscar’s deep, severe voice echoes then, tinged with suspicion. “I won’t allow it, girl. You awakened your Stria just a few months ago, and you think you can steal the leader’s? What scheme do you have in mind, snake?”

  “Calm down, calm down! I’m joking!” Llyrnoth shakes her head, looking disarmed. “I just read somewhere that by accumulating Stria, one becomes stronger.”

  “Well… I read that somewhere too,” Aleystria says, intrigued despite himself.

  “Of course you did, it was in an adult novel,” mutters Elvaristria, hiding her face in embarrassment. “A hero stole others’ Stria by… having special relations with them.”

  “Wow, so you read it too, Elvi?” comes the gravelly voice of Veron, the dwarf of the group. His long beard quivers under his words, and he shakes his head, impressed.

  Llyrnoth’s laughter explodes even louder. She doubles over with joy, her face lit up with rare sincerity, her eyes shining with joyful tears. “I take it all back. I love you all, really! Bwahahaha!”

  And suddenly, without holding back, each of the members bursts into laughter, their palpable joy warming the coldness of the plain. In this suspended moment, at the heart of a holy war, they’re just friends, bound by smiles and absurd quarrels.