Welcome to Redwaters - 2. Chapter 2

The Creeks at night offered a lively atmosphere, a far cry from the tranquility of the empty room Fleur had traversed earlier in the morning. Human warmth had taken over the place, with about thirty people gathered, scattered throughout the different sections of the bar.

A group of high school students, two girls and three boys, laughed heartily while competing in a game of pool. Not far from them, two other buddies, wearing their high school rugby team jackets, engaged in an epic foosball match.

Families and couples enjoyed the evening, savoring a quiet meal accompanied by a glass of wine, while others were captivated by the game playing on the screens, their eyes fixed on the action, a beer within reach. The atmosphere was both relaxed and passionate, filled with animated conversations, laughter, and intermittent cheers from fans fired up by the game.

Although there was no live music group on the stage that evening, a carefully selected playlist of 90s pop-rock songs wafted through the air, creating a sonic backdrop that harmoniously blended with the laughter and exchanges of the patrons. The Creeks was the stage for a true symphony of intertwined lives, a bubble of energy and conviviality that lent this evening a unique and vibrant atmosphere.

Fleur sat at the bar, lost in her dark thoughts, while Joe, the anchor of The Creeks, served her an amber shot.

Joe was much more than just a bartender; he was the keeper of secrets, the discreet protector of Redwaters. A true master of the trade, he knew all the intricacies of the business. He knew how to handle suppliers, maintain order among customers and servers, and even persuade renowned celebrities to perform on their stage. Fleur had never truly grasped the extent of Joe's knowledge about the occult world surrounding them in Redwaters. Yet, seeing him navigate this town for decades, she couldn't help but think he must be aware that something was evidently amiss. The middle-aged man, with dark skin, was a respected and influential figure in Redwaters. The young woman downed her shot in one gulp, seeking momentary relief. Then, she placed the empty glass in front of Joe silently.

Joe, in his usual kindness, asked her, "Rough day?"

"You don't even know, Joe!" Fleur replied, disheartened.

Without hesitation, Joe poured her another shot. But as he was about to tend to other customers vying for his attention, his gaze lifted toward the bar's entrance. Someone had just arrived. A smile formed on Joe's face as he whispered to Fleur, "I'm sure it's nothing a drink with an old friend can't fix..."

Fleur, catching Joe's expression, turned her head toward the bar's entrance, where someone had just walked in. Hadrian.

He was there, dressed more casually than when he first arrived but no less elegant, in a gray t-shirt that accentuated his sculpted muscles, dark jeans that highlighted his figure, and a brown suede jacket that added a stylish touch to his look. His brow wound, which had been visible earlier, had miraculously disappeared, leaving no trace of the violence he had endured.

Fleur couldn't help but smile as she saw him approach, his eyes sparkling with a familiar gleam. She greeted him cheerfully, "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever show up!"

Hadrian returned her smile, his gaze revealing a deep camaraderie. They were bound by something stronger than words could express, a connection forged in the trials and mysteries of Redwaters.

Emotionally moved by their reunion, Hadrian affectionately embraced the young woman. A teasing look lit up his eyes as he remarked, "Fleur Willard giving me a lecture about being late; not even eternal life prepared me for this!" He joked before turning to Joe and shaking his hand in greeting.

Joe, with a quick gesture, already pointed to Fleur's shot and asked, "Same thing, Hadrian?"

"Better leave the bottle, Joe," the immortal said in a relaxed tone, convinced that a few drinks would be welcome after this particularly trying day.

Joe placed a shot and a bottle of Jäger in front of Hadrian. He thanked him with a nod and took a seat on the vacant stool next to Fleur, while Joe was already moving away to attend to other customers at the far end of the bar.

Hadrian picked up the bottle, started by refilling Fleur's glass before filling his own, and then clinked glasses with her. The two friends downed their drinks in a quick and synchronized manner. Fleur grimaced slightly, already feeling the alcohol rising to her head, while Hadrian promptly poured another round.

"I spoke to Ouray, and he told me what happened," he announced to Fleur in a more serious tone.

"And are you going to give me a lecture about my reckless actions?" asked Fleur, already weary of the prospect of a sermon just as she was beginning to relax.

Hadrian raised an eyebrow in response. "Because that's worked on you before?"

Fleur let out a relieved smile, sensing the irony in her friend's remark, as Hadrian gently placed his hand on her shoulder, expressing his concern. He asked her softly, "How are you feeling?"

"Drained," she admitted. "Drained and even more lost than I was yesterday."

Hadrian nodded empathetically, understanding the depth of her emotions. He was there for her, ready to listen and help her through these challenging times. "Let's try to tackle one problem at a time, okay?" he reassured her in a soothing voice before adding, "The good news is that the location spell worked. We know where to go tomorrow to try to stop the impending catastrophe. As for the rest, we'll find a solution and deal with it in due time, alright?"

"Does that mean you're planning to stay a bit longer this time?" Fleur asked, seeking a glimmer of hope in Hadrian's words.

Hadrian took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto hers, and he replied, "As long as it takes."

A sense of relief washed over Fleur as she smiled at him, grateful for the support his presence provided. She placed her hand on his, expressing her gratitude.

"And how's Darcey?" Fleur asked as she poured herself another shot.

Hadrian let out a slight chuckle. "As feisty as ever."

"Irritable? Unreasonable?" Fleur inquired, well aware of her grandmother's spirited personality.

"If I told you about the last mission she assigned to Ouray and me on behalf of the Order, you'd quickly see that unreasonable is clearly an understatement!" Hadrian replied.

Fleur burst into laughter, already imagining the trouble her grandmother had likely gotten the two men into.

At the bar's entrance stood Elliott, Oliver, and Nina, observing the scene from a distance. Elliott was red with jealousy. Who was this man with whom Fleur was speaking so comfortably and naturally? Had she really just placed her hand on his? The young man tried to contain himself and rationalize when Nina interrupted his thoughts, saying, "That's the guy I was telling you about earlier. Looks like I already have some competition."

Elliott felt a pang of frustration in his chest, but he tried to remain calm. He knew he had to act maturely and not let jealousy take over. He took a deep breath and said tersely, "Take a table; I'll join you..."

Without waiting for their response, Elliott navigated through the crowd to join the duo, determined to learn more about the man who seemed to captivate Fleur's attention.

When he reached their side, Elliott embraced Fleur with a hint of possessiveness, his eyes fixed on Hadrian. A mixture of jealousy and challenge emanated from him, feeling threatened by the presence of this charming stranger in Fleur's company.

"Hello" he greeted in a dry tone, seeking to assert his presence.

A glimmer of joy lit up Fleur's face at the sight of Elliott. She quickly kissed him, delighted to see him again, before asking him enthusiastically, "Hey! I thought I'd find you at home! So, how was your first day?"

Elliott, trying to conceal his discomfort, replied with a slightly strained voice, "I came to celebrate my first day with some colleagues. Am I interrupting something?"

Hadrian observed the scene with detachment, enjoying the spectacle. Elliott's immature reaction confirmed the significance he attached to Fleur, and that was enough to satisfy him.

"Interrupting what?" she replied, surprised by Elliott's reaction. Then, realizing the assumptions that might be running through his mind, she hurried to introduce them, "Oh my God! What did you think? Elliott, let me introduce you to Hadrian! Hadrian, this is Elliott!"

Elliott's gaze, previously filled with suspicion towards Hadrian, instantly softened.

"Hadrian?!" he exclaimed, surprised and slightly taken aback. A smile of relief spread across Elliott's face as he vigorously shook the immortal's hand. Hadrian, on the other hand, found himself perplexed by the turn of events, trying to decipher this new dynamic that had just formed between them.

"Fleur has talked so much about you, of course! She was so happy you decided to visit town again..." Elliott began, seeking to ease the tensions. His voice softened as he added, "I'm really sorry about the breakup..."

Hadrian, growing increasingly perplexed, tried to make sense of the situation. His eyes searched for Fleur's, but she avoided his gaze, betraying her discomfort.

"The breakup?" Hadrian asked, perplexed, wanting answers. His eyes remained fixed on Fleur, hoping she would provide some clarity.

Elliott continued in a conciliatory tone, "Fleur spilled the beans, but don't be embarrassed. We've all been in this kind of situation. The important thing is to surround yourself with friends. I'll let you enjoy your reunion; I don't want to intrude."

As Elliott was already moving away to join his colleagues, Hadrian urged Fleur to provide an explanation. His gaze was intense, filled with impatience regarding this strange situation.

"An explanation?" he asked, fixing his eyes on hers insistently, seeking the truth.

Fleur, visibly uncomfortable, replied in a hesitant voice, "Okay, I may have made up that you were coming back to town because you got dumped."

"Charming," Hadrian replied sarcastically, pouring himself another shot to calm his nerves. "And may I know who supposedly broke my heart, at least?"

"Your boyfriend..." Fleur let out these words, carefully observing Hadrian's reaction. Her gaze displayed complete surprise, her features frozen in incomprehension.

Silence hung heavy, charged with tension. Fleur felt her heartbeats quicken in her chest, expecting an explosion of anger or disappointment from her immortal friend. But instead of that, a glimmer of confusion passed through Hadrian's eyes, followed by a faint enigmatic smile.

"What did you want me to tell him, Hadrian?" she asked in a trembling voice, seeking to justify herself. "I had to get creative to explain all the times when I joined you and Ouray in your adventures around the world. I had to come up with a plausible explanation for the time we would have spent together if you had returned to town..."

Hadrian looked at her intensely. He took a deep breath, as if carefully weighing his words.

"So, the first thing that came to your mind was to say I'm gay and got dumped?" he finally responded, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.

Fleur was taken aback by his reaction. "But... I just thought it would be the best excuse in that situation."

Hadrian shook his head slightly, as if dismissing an absurd idea.

"Believe me, Fleur, after living as long as I have, the labels and categories imposed by society lose all meaning. The experiences I've had have taught me not to be confined by narrow definitions. Your generation might box yourselves in with labels that try to explain everything, but it doesn't change the true essence of who we are."

Fleur looked at him with astonishment, a glimmer of understanding dawning in her eyes.

"The experiences you've had..." she repeated, almost as if having an epiphany.

Hadrian sighed, his face displaying a smile tinged with amusement.

"I think it's time to stop with the shots, Fleur. They only seem to exacerbate misunderstandings."

A burst of laughter escaped Fleur's lips, breaking the tension that surrounded them. She realized that her previous reaction had been based on misconceptions and prejudices, and she felt relieved to see that Hadrian wasn't affected by the labels she had tried to assign to him.

"I'm sorry, I just panicked!" Fleur exclaimed with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief at the unexpected turn of events.

Hadrian looked at her and suggested, "You know, you could have just said that we were related or simply very good friends..."

With a hint of amusement in her eyes, Fleur shook her head confidently.

"You know that wouldn't have worked. Eliott knows i don't have much family and most people tend not to understand that you're like a big brother to me, and that the idea of a romantic relationship between us would be... Ewww! Disgusting!"

A sly smile played on Hadrian's lips.

"And I'm disgusting now? Getting better and better. Remind me why I came to help you again?"

Then, after taking a moment to think, Hadrian suddenly seemed panicked, as if he had just realized something crucial. He gazed intensely at Fleur, seeking an answer to his question:

"Fleur, tell me you didn't invent, in this little imaginary scenario, that it was Ouray, my ex...?"

At Elliot's table, a bit farther away, Nina wore a disappointed expression, her gaze fixed on Hadrian sitting with Fleur. Oliver, on the other hand, appeared more relaxed, calmly sipping his beer.

"I can't believe it, the first attractive man to show up in Redwaters in three months, and he's gay..." Nina sighed despondently.

Elliot tried to reassure her, saying, "Don't overreact; people often come here."

Nina rolled her eyes, unable to tear her gaze away from Hadrian. "Have you seen the contrast between these rustic hicks hanging around here and that incredible man sitting over there? Are you sure he's not bisexual, at least?" she asked, hoping for a positive response.

Elliot felt a bit awkward about the situation and sought support from Oliver, but Oliver carefully avoided getting involved, preferring to focus on his drink.

"You see, even Oliver believes it too. I'm doomed to end up alone!" Nina exclaimed dramatically.

Suddenly, Elliot spotted someone at the other end of the bar, someone he hadn't seen in a while. He quickly got up from the table, looking at Nina and Oliver before saying ironically, "On that cheerful note, I'll be right back."

Elliot headed towards the restroom area, where a pretty young Asian girl in her high school cheerleader uniform was about to enter. He placed his hand on her back, taking her by surprise. Startled, Simonne quickly turned around, instinctively letting out, "Hands off!" But when she realized it was her big brother, her annoyance turned into surprise.

"As adorable as ever i see, little sister!" Elliot said with an ironic smile, delighted to see her. He still remembered the joy he felt when they had adopted her when she was only a few days old. Since then, he had vowed to protect her at all costs.

"Elliot? And you're in uniform? So, that story about joining the police was true?" Simonne asked, curious.

"Simonne, it's been two years that I've been on this path, studying, training, and undergoing training for it. You were at my graduation ceremony just three months ago," Elliot reminded her.

Simonne seemed skeptical. "I thought you'd eventually give up. Mom always says it's just a phase."

Elliot sighed. "And do what instead? Follow in her third husband's footsteps and become a corrupt politician? I don't think so."

A sly smile played on Simonne's lips. Elliot had hit the mark. Their stepfather was far from trustworthy, and their mother seemed to prefer ignoring his actions while indulging in self-medication. Simonne even suspected that their stepfather used her Asian heritage to portray an image of diversity for political purposes.

Elliot suddenly noticed the glass Simonne was holding and instinctively took it from her to check its contents, looking suspicious.

"My god, relax! It's just iced tea! But I admit I wish there was alcohol in it, especially here at Fleur's bar. What would you do? Revoke her liquor license for serving a minor? I'd love to see that," Simonne teased.

"Very funny, Simonne. I'm just concerned about you," Elliot said, worried.

"I'll be eighteen in a week, and if I hadn't failed my last year because of that damn math test, I'd already be out of this lousy town, living in California. I'm not a kid anymore, Elliot. And you know damn well that when I want to drink, there's always something at home," Simonne replied with a hint of bitterness.

Elliot tried to ease the tension. "I know you've been through a tough time..."

Simonne couldn't help but sigh in frustration. "No, you know nothing. To truly understand, you should have put aside your cheap judgments and spent time with us, with me. Maybe then you would have had a say," she told him.

She was frustrated by his moralizing attitude, especially after he had let his differences with their mother and her last husband negatively affect their relationship. Elliot and Simonne had always been close in the past, and with the trials she had faced in recent months, she really could have used her big brother's support.

Realizing she wasn't ready for a deeper conversation, Elliot gave her a compassionate look. "Take care of yourself, okay?" he said with genuine concern. Then, he turned back to rejoin his friends.

"Elliot?" Simonne murmured, saying his name with a touch of tenderness. Despite herself, she was happy to have run into him and touched by his concern for her. "Congratulations on your job," she added timidly.

A smile appeared on Elliot's face. He gave her a grateful look before heading back to his table, where his friends were already waiting. Meanwhile, Simonne was already berating the young woman who had dared to take her place in line for the restroom, all while holding onto a sense of gratitude for the brief encounter with her brother.

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The nearly full moon illuminated the sky, casting its soft glow over the dewy grass of the clearing. Ouray had finally found it after braving a particularly challenging hill to climb. Mysterious fog enshrouded the area like a nebulous scarf.

Ouray, out of breath, had arrived at the location indicated by the tracking spell he had previously performed with Fleur. He could have guessed it. This clearing overlooked the Redwaters River. It was evident that if something grave were to occur, this tragedy would certainly unfold around this cursed area.

Indeed, it was this river's sinister history that had given the town its name, as its once crystal-clear waters tragically mixed with an abundance of blood, giving it a completely red hue. Redwaters had thus become the town's name, so that survivors would never forget the tragedy that had occurred there.

Of course, this story remained unknown to the younger generations and tourists, and even though Ouray would have preferred to share obliviousness, but the vivid memory of that terrible day remained etched in his mind, centuries later, as an unforgettable reminder of the horror he had witnessed.

Not far from the river, about a hundred meters away, stood the entrance to Redwaters' enchanted woods, another place steeped in history. These woods, known for their magical powers, exerted an irresistible attraction on all sorts of supernatural creatures. Over the years, some decided to settle there, while others passed through on pilgrimage, coexisting peacefully for the most part. Hadrian and Ouray had carefully preserved this fragile balance through stormy negotiations and a few subterfuges, thus keeping this place hidden from human eyes.

Access to the woods was blocked by a metal fence, and several warning signs surrounded the area, displaying alarming messages such as "Toxic Waste," "Radioactive Particles," and "Danger." A persistent rumor in town spoke of an illegal pharmaceutical laboratory whose chemical stock had exploded several years ago, spreading deadly poison in the vicinity. This story had successfully kept the townsfolk and campers away from the area.

Ouray and Hadrian, of course, were the masterminds behind this façade, which had so far seemed to work, with a few exceptions...

Ouray carefully surveyed the surroundings, but he found only silence and the damp chill of the night to keep him company. He would return tomorrow with Hadrian and Fleur, ready to intervene to prevent the threat that had forced them back to town from coming to fruition. But tonight, he would discover nothing more, he thought.

As he quietly turned back, mentally reviewing the information he had gathered from Fleur's subconscious to better prepare for the next day, Ouray was starteld by the sound of a series of gunshots in the distance. Moments later, the gunshots became more frequent, breaking the silence of the night. The shaman immediately recognized the sound of a rifle. Hastening his pace, he descended the hill he had climbed a few minutes earlier, reaching the main road he had come by.

Suddenly, he heard the violent screech of tires as a car sped away in the distance. As he approached, he saw two red taillights fading into the thick fog of the road. What had just happened? Hunting in such weather and at night would have been unthinkable for anyone.

The answers to all these questions quickly and tragically found their echo. As Ouray continued towards the road, he discovered the bodies of four white wolves lying in a pool of their own blood. A profound sense of sadness washed over him as he approached, a helpless witness to this senseless violence.

These wolves were peaceful, having never posed a threat to anyone. Ouray had grown up regarding them with respect, raised with the belief that they were benevolent and protective allies. Despite the dangers he had faced throughout his life, nothing could shake his heart as much as the sight of these innocent creatures cruelly shot down.

Emotion welled up inside the shaman as he knelt near each wolf, sadly confirming their demise. The first three had succumbed to fatal shots, but the last one was still suffering, struggling in unbearable agony. A bullet had penetrated its skull, and Ouray was stunned that the animal could still breathe after such a wound.

Kneeling beside the poor creature, Ouray wished desperately that he could save it. These wolves had watched over Redwaters for generations, never harming humans. No explanation could justify such an unjust and brutal act.

Ouray gently placed his trembling hands over the wounded animal, an otherworldly white light radiating from his hands onto the suffering creature. The wolf abruptly stopped struggling, gradually finding peace, and it cast one last grateful look at him before closing its eyes forever.

A silent tear rolled down Ouray's cheek as he rose to his feet a few steps from the roadside, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of the slaughtered wolves. He knew, with growing certainty, that this atrocity was the work of a human being. And he also knew, with burning determination, that he would do everything in his power to avenge this barbaric act in some way, thus honoring the memory of these magnificent creatures.

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In the ground-floor bathroom of the mansion, just down the stairs, Hadrian was attempting to repair the sink he had inadvertently torn from the wall during the violent episode he had gone through earlier. The white marble was still stained with his own blood.

He had expected to find Ouray already home, given the late hour at which he had returned himself. Initially, Hadrian had made sure that Elliot carried Fleur to their apartment, considering the state of intoxication the young witch had been in when they parted earlier. The immortal thought with a smile that it was fortunate that the witch lived above the Creeks, recalling the image of the redhead, completely drunk, mistaking Elliot for her grandmother.

The evening had at least served to take their minds off things, Hadrian thought with a sigh. It was then that, suddenly, he saw Ouray's reflection covered in blood and mud from head to toe appear in the mirror above the sink he was trying to put back in place.

Startled, Hadrian turned abruptly to face what he thought was a new hallucination. In his astonishment, he let the sink slip from his hands and crash to the floor for the second time that day, shattering into several pieces.

It was indeed Ouray who stood in the doorway, and not his imagination playing tricks on him. The shaman had just arrived at the threshold of the room, this bathroom being the first on his way back to the mansion. He had thought to freshen up there to regain his composure, still clearly affected by the events he had just experienced.

Indeed, Ouray couldn't leave these savagely murdered wolves abandoned by the roadside. The Native American had buried them, carrying them with his bare hands and digging their graves, hoping that this act of kindness would finally allow them to rest in peace, to regain in death the dignity that this abhorrent massacre had taken from them. That's how his clothes had ended up stained, and his body marked.

"What happened to you?" Hadrian asked, scrutinizing his friend, who seemed to have gone through all hell before reaching him, when he had simply thought him out on reconnaissance inspecting the clearing for the next day.

Slowly emerging from his stupor, Ouray pointed to the broken sink and then the dried bloodstain on the floor, fixing Hadrian with a look as if to return the question.

The Englishman sighed and offered, "Tea?"

A few minutes later, Hadrian and Ouray were comfortably seated in the mansion's grand library, facing the crackling fireplace, its dancing flames illuminating their tired faces.

Hadrian had prepared two steaming cups of tea, which he had placed on a small coffee table between them. The delicate scent of tea mingled with the smell of old books, creating a soothing atmosphere.

Silence settled between the two men, each lost in their thoughts. Hadrian observed Ouray out of the corner of his eye, noticing how the recent trials had left their marks on his face. The signs of fatigue and sadness were evident, but he remained as strong and determined as ever.

Finally, Hadrian broke the silence. "Humans, you say," he murmured in a grave voice, seeking to understand the words spoken by his friend a few moments earlier.

"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time..." Ouray replied confidently.

Hadrian lowered his gaze, his voice filled with bitterness. "I am all too familiar with how cruel humans can be," he said.

"I was talking about Carolina, what happened to her," Ouray interrupted, changing the subject.

"We never knew what happened to her," Hadrian admitted, his voice betraying his frustration.

"Do you think it's a coincidence that such a thing happened on the same day Fleur managed to make contact with her for the first time since her death?" Ouray asked, his intuition rarely failing him.

Hadrian remained silent for a moment, pondering his friend's words.

"We don't know if it was really her mother communicating with her through her subconscious, or if humans could be responsible for her death," he said with a voice tinged with doubt. "Carolina was a powerful witch; a mere mortal wouldn't stand a chance against her. And let's not forget that Darcey turned heaven and earth to find out what happened that night. We've done everything in our power to find answers. If some magic weren't blocking our attempts, we would have likely solved the case by now," he tried to rationalize.

Ouray fixed Hadrian with a penetrating gaze. "Carolina was shot in the abdomen, Hadrian. I don't know many magical creatures who kill each other with firearms. And as for the wolves tonight, there's no doubt," he replied, resolute in his conviction.

Acknowledging the undeniable validity of Ouray's arguments, Hadrian nodded. "I'll go see Garth at the tattoo parlor later today. If humans are indeed targeting magical creatures, he's the one best positioned to know," he stated. "But let's not say anything to Fleur until we have more information. We already have enough on our plate with the upcoming full moon..."

"You're right. Go talk to Garth to gather more information, but I don't think you should accompany us to the clearing at sunset tomorrow," Ouray suddenly declared, concerned.

Taken aback by these words, Hadrian immediately protested, "What?! What are you talking about?"

Ouray tried to explain cautiously, well aware of the burden of the curse that weighed on his friend. "Hadrian, just look at what happened to you today when you returned to the mansion. Now, imagine for a moment what could happen if you got closer to the river..."

Attempting to reassure him, Hadrian quickly responded, "I'm getting better at controlling my episodes. Today was just a surprise due to the return. Look, I'm already much better, not to mention the pills I have at my disposal." The immortal justified himself, referring to the pills he had recently obtained, a chemical mixture that had so far helped him mitigate the intensity of his outbursts...

Ouray cast a worried look at Hadrian but, aware that his episodes were unpredictable and of immense violence, he took the risk of explaining, "Your episodes render you uncontrollable, with extremely violent, and the effects of the pills plunge you into such drowsiness that you might become more of a liability than a help to us tomorrow night."

Hadrian couldn't help but feel slightly offended by this statement and retorted with a touch of irony, "It's funny to hear that from you, considering that you and Fleur still don't know when you'll be plunged into her subconscious again, thanks to your little magical prowess earlier. For all I know, it could happen in the middle of the confrontation, and I'm the one who's really going to slow you down, you say?"

A sigh escaped from Ouray's lips as he realized he had forgotten about the consequences of the spell he had cast with Fleur earlier. An ironic smile appeared on his face, because if they, indeed, found themselves plunged into the witch's subconscious again during a battle, losing consciousness simultaneously, and if Hadrian experienced an episode at the same time, their trio would undoubtedly become the most useless intervention team in the history of humanity.

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Garth was immersed in the metal riffs resonating through his tattoo shop, concentrated on his sketchbook. Although the clock read only three o'clock, the blue and pink neon lights, black walls adorned with punk rock symbols, and the blasting music gave the impression that night had already fallen. His nearly shaved head was dyed blue, and his lean yet muscular arms, bare beneath his red plaid sleeveless vest, were covered with a myriad of colorful tattoos.

Arriving in Redwaters as a teenager, Garth had long struggled to understand his identity and the extent of his powers. As a Kinnara, he possessed the ability to transform into various types of birds, experiencing extraordinary sensations. But he had no control over his condition until he arrived in the enchanted forest. Through the encounters he had there and his unwavering perseverance, he had finally managed to master his gifts and take control of his life.

Hadrian crossed the threshold of the store and approached the counter, but Garth only gave him an indifferent look, continuing to draw in his sketchbook, almost ignoring him. The deafening music disoriented Hadrian, who gestured for Garth to lower the volume. Without looking up from his sketchbook, Garth complied, lowering the sound slightly before returning to his drawing.

"What can I do for you?" he asked in a detached voice, not interrupting his pencil strokes.

Hadrian, with a concerned look on his face, delivered the news weighing on his mind. "Ouray discovered that four white wolves were shot near the East Roadlast night."

Garth's pencil tightened in his hand as he heard those words, visibly affected by the news. After a brief moment of internal turmoil, he managed to regain his composure and return to his drawing. Hadrian approached the counter, seeking to learn more about this dark matter.

"Do you have any idea who could do such a thing?" Hadrian asked calmly, eager to uncover the truth.

Garth remained silent for a few seconds, then finally lifted his eyes from his sketchbook to give Hadrian a piercing question: "Why do you care?"

Surprised by his answer, Hadrian responded with astonishment, "Of course i care, what do you mean?"

"I've never seen you take any interest in the fate of other magical beings, not outside your close circle," Garth stated measuredly while continuing to draw.

Hadrian didn't understand where Garth was going with this accusation or why he seemed so hostile toward him. He replied, "I've always ensured that supernatural creatures and humans coexist peacefully, even before you arrived here, Garth."

"All your efforts were focused on protecting humans, making sure that magical beings didn't harm them, when the problem has always been quite the opposite," Garth declared without interrupting his drawing, leaving a heavy silence between them.

Increasingly perplexed, Hadrian asked, "What do you mean?"

"You want to know how many attacks on humans were carried out by supernatural beings in Redwaters the past five years? Aside from a few isolated cases of passing creatures, poltergeists, and other exceptions, practically none!" Garth informed him, his voice a mix of emotion and anger.

Hadrian, now more lost than ever, exclaimed, "So, what are you getting at?"

"Do you want to know how many magical animals and other harmless creatures have been killed by humans in the last five years? At least a hundred!" the young tattoo artist revealed with a voice filled with emotion and anger.

Hadrian, increasingly baffled, asked, "How is that even possible?"

Garth, his eyes burning with a dark glint, revealed the truth in a tight voice, "There's an armed group, a gang of rednecks, who have been targeting anything they deem supernatural for years, especially peaceful and non-violent creatures... The forest is nearly deserted today."

"I had no idea; Fleur never mentioned it to me," Hadrian admitted, stunned by these revelations.

He now understood the severe look that Garth had cast upon him. He had been of no help to these defenseless creatures,worse, he didn't even know they were in endangerd.

"Fleur spends most of her time in the city with her human fiancé; she hasn't returned to the forest in years, not since her experimentation phase with magical mushrooms ended. As for you and Ouray, you come and go here like tourists, ignoring our community, caring only about humans," Garth added, his voice filled with reproach.

Hadrian couldn't refute Garth's words, which painfully exposed his negligence. His visits to Redwaters in recent years had been fleeting and superficial. Seeing no attacks in the city or alerts regarding missing tourists, he had naively assumed that the situation was under control, neglecting the supernatural side of town. Suddenly, an intense feeling of guilt washed over him, causing sweat and shortness of breath. Hadrian tried to calm himself, praying that these intense emotions wouldn't trigger another episode. In an attempt to learn more, he questioned Garth with an anxious tone, "This group you're talking about, these rednecks, what do you know about them?"

"Not much; I try to stay away while helping those I can without drawing too much trouble to myself..." Garth responded, returning to his drawing.

Hadrian, filled with fierce determination, declared as he headed for the exit, still shaken by these revelations, "I'll find a way to put an end to this."

"I wish you luck, because once all the wolves and birds have been slaughtered, they'll move on to larger prey, starting with people like Fleur, just as they did with her mother," Garth warned, deeply affected by his own words.

Hadrian swiftly turned and rushed back to the counter, shouting in Garth's face as he questioned him, clearly shaken by his words: "Carolina?! Are they the ones who did this?! What exactly do you know?"

"Any sensible person knows it's them. No one's investigating them in her murder because Carolina was a powerful witch, and they're just humans. On top of that, her mother's gone paranoid, believing it's some kind of vengeance from the higher magical realms. But if everyone would just look at it from a simpler angle. Why couldn't Darcey ever trace her daughter's steps at the crime scene? And why couldn't Carolina stop a simple bullet coming at her?" Garth explained in a heated rant.

Hadrian was trying to grasp Garth's point, but he wasn't getting it. The young man continued, "It's the ground, Hadrian."

"What do you mean by that?" the immortal asked, intrigued by these statements.

"A few meters from where Carolina's body was found, the ground nullifies all kinds of magic. That's why Darcey could never make contact with her daughter's spirit at the crime scene, and that's why Carolina couldn't do anything against the humans that night," Garth asserted.

Hadrian was astonished. Garth's words seemed to make sense, but where had he gotten this information, and how could such a thing even be possible? "How can you be so sure?" he asked.

"The gang I told you about injured one of my friends a few weeks ago. I got tired of sitting around, so I decided to follow them and find out more. I was tailing them a few days ago when their truck took the road from the old Willard house to the woods where Carolina was found. That's when, in mid-flight, I was suddenly turned back into a human. I fell from several meters up, i was luckily the trees caught me," Garth recounted.

Hadrian noticed the crutch behind the counter and the cut marks on Garth's tattooed body, which he hadn't paid attention to earlier. It was clear that the young Kinnara had been through a serious accident.

"I was in a pretty bad state, could barely walk. I tried to transform back to fly to the hospital, but my powers wouldn't work," Garth continued.

"Maybe your transformation was accidental," Hadrian suggested, still confused. "And perhaps being injured prevented you from transforming back because of your critical condition."

"I've been shot before, and it didn't stop me from transforming, Hadrian. I know what I'm talking about. I crawled as far as I could, and eventually, I managed to turn back with no issues. And when the doctors released me two days ago, I went back to the scene to check. Impossible to transform within that radius, like I wasn't a Kinnara anymore on that soil but just a regular human," Garth passionately explained.

Hadrian's mind raced, trying to put together the pieces of memories and conversations. In a sudden moment of understanding, everything clicked into place. The conversations he'd had with Darcey resurfaced, her frustration and inability to connect with her daughter's spirit at the crime scene, as if her magic didn't work there. The memories of their few visits with Ouray to where Carolina was found came back, the oppressive discomfort they felt, attributed solely to the loss of their dear friend and the guilt they carried. But if Garth's words were true, if all magic was truly suppressed in that place, it meant something much deeper: they were not only affected emotionally but physically, being individuals who were literally kept alive by magic.

Hadrian was visibly shaken by the conversation, his thoughts in turmoil. Mechanically, he asked a question to Garth that weighed on him. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" he asked with a strained voice.

Garth, at his wit's end, exploded, "What part of my story is escaping you?" He retorted with anger, "My mid-air fall from several meters? Or the fact that I just got out of the hospital two days ago?I was of course going to tell Fleur, but I wanted to learn more about he matter before putting her in danger. As supernaturals, we must support each other now more than ever, given our dwindling numbers."

Hadrian avoided Garth's gaze, ashamed of his own shortcomings. He remembered when Garth first arrived in Redwaters, a lost teenager he had advised and guided. At that time, Garth had looked up to him with admiration and respect, but today he faced the harsh reality of the harm caused by his absence.

"I'll fix this, Garth, I promise," Hadrian declared with determination.

But Hadrian's words hung in the air. "Fix this? Wow, what a hero! Where were you when my friends were being slaughtered, Hadrian? Can you bring them back to life? Can you return them to their families?" Garth asked in a harsh tone, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the immortal. "I hope at least now that it personally affects you, it will give you a good reason to find these bastards and make them pay."

Hadrian hastily left the tattoo shop, his heart heavy with remorse. He barely held back a wave of nausea as he closed the door behind him.

Revelations swirled in Hadrian's mind, triggering an emotional rollercoaster. How had he fallen so low? His eternal life had been dedicated to redemption, to atoning for the wrongs he had committed in the past. The very source of his curse, the one to whom he had inflicted so much pain to, was a supernatural being. And yet, once again, lives had been destroyed, innocents persecuted, right in the town he had helped build and protect from such injustices.

At this moment, Hadrian felt like a creature of chaos, even when his hands were innocent. The benevolent acts he undertook to offset his past mistakes seemed insufficient in the face of the magnitude of the harm he had caused. His body trembled, and he scanned his surroundings. He was in the midst of a bustling crowd on a downtown street, bathed in daylight.

Across the street, a bakery teemed with customers coming and going, while others gathered at a nearby café, taking seats on the terrace. Cars and bicycles moved peacefully, oblivious to the flood of adrenaline and anger mingling with Hadrian's consuming guilt.

Ouray was right. His condition made him unpredictable, dangerous. Such was the nature of his curse, where guilt bred violence, and violence fed into an unending cycle of consuming guilt.

Trembling, Hadrian laboriously took out his pill bottle from his pocket and quickly swallowed a tablet, seeking to calm the turmoil ravaging his being. Then, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed a number, even as his vision was already blurring in front of the store.

"Come get me." he whispered with a choked voice,praying for Ouray to come to his rescue before he lost consciousness or succumbed to uncontrolled violence. Sitting on the step in front of Garth's store, Hadrian buried his face in his crossed arms, his trembling hands resting on his thighs. He waited, vulnerable and haunted by his demons, for Ouray to save him from himself.

Meanwhile, Tucker, dressed in his sheriff's uniform, walked past him, heading towards the old Jeep that Hadrian now used to move around incognito in town. Pretending to tie his shoelaces, Tucker took the opportunity to discreetly place a GPS tracker under the vehicle. Then, straightening up quickly, he continued on his way, greeting passersby with a feigned smile. Before turning away, the sheriff cast one final disdainful glance in Hadrian's direction, who remained huddled on the store's step.

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Hadrian was consumed by an uncontrollable frenzy in the training room he had set up within the mansion. Only dressed in black jersey shorts, his body drenched in sweat, he unleashed all his power on the punching bag hanging in front of him.

Ouray had brought him back over an hour ago, and although the pill he had taken in front of Garth's store had somewhat tempered his impulses, a boiling energy and uncontrollable aggression still coursed through him. Only intense physical effort and the violence of his strikes could hope to channel them.

Hadrian pounded the bag with a disproportionate intensity, venting his anger through each punch and kick. Sweat poured from his forehead, his wet hair sticking to his face. His entire body was tense, his bulging muscles bearing witness to the effort and rage that had seized him.

The chain holding the punching bag now threatened to give way under the repeated force of his attacks, but the immortal couldn't afford to stop. He was in the grip of a surge of violence, an indomptable inner force roaring through every blow.

Ouray approached Hadrian slowly, standing in the doorway, his heart heavy with worry. Since he had found him on the city streets until their return to the mansion, the immortal had not uttered a word. Ouray could tell from his state that the conversation with the Kinnara had deeply shaken him.

Time was running out. Only a few short hours separated them from sunset, the fateful moment when they would have to face the threat that Fleur's dream had warned them about. A threat they still knew nothing about, sparking growing fear in Ouray about their ability to confront it. Hadrian's return to Redwaters had clearly had a greater impact than what the shaman had initially anticipated.

He had grown accustomed to seeing the immortal repress his emotions almost entirely or direct his anger in a more controlled manner. Over the years, they had developed various breathing techniques, worked on meditation, tried hypnosis, as well as other psychological and physical approaches to better channel his aggressiveness, anger, and the guilt that plagued him. However, none of it seemed to be working now.

Of course, a magical approach could have been easier, but the very nature of Hadrian's curse dictated that no known spell could alleviate his suffering. Their many attempts to bypass this rule had only made things worse when they dared to ignore it.

It was only a few months ago that the chemical approach became an option, thanks to a scientist they had encountered during several missions on behalf of the Order. He had noticed similarities between Hadrian's condition and some rare forms of schizophrenia. In the hope of calming the intensity of the immortal's crises, he had concocted pills for him. These had seemed promising outside of Redwaters, but since their return, it became clear that the medication was unfortunately no longer as successfull.

Ouray feared that the obvious link between the wolf massacre the night before and Carolina's murder, which left no doubt in his mind, combined with what awaited them at nightfall, could cause the immortal to lose his grip, permanently.

The sound of the front door opening reached Ouray's attentive ears, announcing Fleur's arrival. The doubts that had tormented them had to be put on the back burner for now, as time was of the essence. They could no longer afford to linger; it was time to take action.

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The trio reached the clearing overlooking the Redwaters River as the last light of day faded away. A heavy atmosphere enveloped the place, a chilling silence that stretched like an ominous omen. It was the eerie calm before the storm, a sensation that sent shivers down one's spine.

Breathless, Fleur broke the silence by exclaiming, "I really need to get back in shape. If we survive tonight, I promise to take up Pilates again!"

Ouray replied with a disapproving look, "I did warn you that the hill would be challenging and the grass would be wet," his eyes resting on the high-heeled boots the witch had chosen to wear, despite his advice.

Hadrian, crossbow in hand and a black leather duffel bag filled with various weapons in the other, scanned the surroundings vigilantly, alert to the slightest sound. He was trying not to dwell on the river on the other side of the clearing and its significance, or his conversation with Garth and the discussion he would have to engage in with Fleur later about her mother's death. His top priority was to keep his friends safe at all costs. However, he couldn't deny the scent of blood that seemed to permeate the area, just as it had in his memory.

Ouray placed his backpack filled with magical relics and protective talismans on the ground, then began surveying the horizon.

"Let's have one last review," Fleur said, her voice trembling as she sought to ease her nervousness by twirling the rings on her fingers. "According to my dream, we might be facing undead rising from the ground..."

"And an especially determined giant spider..." added Ouray, recalling their encounter within Fleur's subconscious, where they had been attacked by that creature.

"Not to mention a devastating fire..." Fleur chimed in, revisiting the nightmarish images with trepidation.

"And defying the laws of gravity..." the young woman also remembered, feeling the intense vertigo of soaring into the air in her dream.

"We're about to find out..." Hadrian finally declared, breaking his silence and pointing to a spot a few meters above them to signal to his companions that the sky was starting to undergo strange distortions.

Hadrian carefully placed his bag of weapons on the ground, letting Ouray quickly retrieve a sword from it. Meanwhile, Fleur, her hands trembling with a mixture of caffeinated anxiety and fear, hurriedly put on a protective necklace. The piece of jewelry, taken from the shaman's backpack, pulsated with an esoteric energy.

With a determined and focused gaze, Hadrian now aimed his crossbow toward the area from which the mystical disturbances emanated. His agile fingers effortlessly slid across the stock, poised to unleash a deadly bolt if necessary.

A dark whirlwind of energy slowly formed, dancing with an unsettling grace in the air, stretching and intensifying gradually. The power of the vortex generated a storm of wind, sweeping leaves and causing chaotic turmoil around the trio.

Although elevated several meters above them, the enigmatic vortex had a gripping hold on the three comrades. The air was charged with palpable tension, each particle seemingly imbued with forbidden magic. A deafening roar, like a demonic tornado, filled their ears, vibrating their eardrums, while the wild wind, carrying a thousand secrets, lifted the damp grass in a frenzied dance.

Ouray, Hadrian, and Fleur watched helplessly as this ethereal nightmare unfolded. The elements raged around them, their hair whipping across their faces, obscuring their vision. The unleashed vortex hurled debris in all directions and raised clouds of dust all around them.

An unspeakable apprehension filled the three companions as they considered the surprises that this powerful portal might hold for them. They couldn't ignore how quickly it had transformed this peaceful clearing into a place filled with foreboding. Their hearts raced, their thoughts immersed in a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

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The big night had finally arrived, but Zaïn's heart wasnt in it. It was as if organizing balls and galas had suddenly lost its appeal for the young man, thwarting his initial and only purpose in dedicating himself to this activity for the kingdom, which was, of course, to enjoy himself.

Undoubtedly, the occupation seemed more enjoyable to him than going hunting with his father or playing Iron Cyclone with his brothers. Hobbies that had failed to hold his interest beyond his first attempt. Despite being a Péris, people known for their genetic predisposition for hunting and their athleticism, the hobbies that stemmed from these traits and were favored by those around him never excited Zaïn. To him, these popular pastimes were nothing more than a chore that he willingly avoided.

Hiding his disdain for these activities, which were supposed to appeal to boys his age and of his rank, had quickly proved problematic. Zaïn had always had difficulty concealing anything, his disconcerting candor often landing him in awkward situations that many of his peers would have found embarrassing. However, that didn't matter to the young man.

"Why do I feel so strange?" Zaïn wondered, perplexed. It made sense for him not to be drawn to throwing balls through iron hoops, and it was equally understandable that he rejected the very idea of considering hunting innocent animals as a sport. But suddenly questioning his legendary enthusiasm for the party? That was completely contrary to his personality.

Taking charge of the festivities had at least the benefit of easing Queen Uma, his mother, who was already exhausted from overseeing all the kingdom's political, economic, and social affairs day and night.

Zaïn was about to celebrate his nineteenth spring, an evening that should have filled his heart with boundless excitement. The transition to adulthood, a step filled with promise and renewal. Yet, a strange melancholy was creeping over him, dimming the shine of this special occasion.

The young people of his circle, his partners in so many past escapades, were preparing to come together for a night of endless revelry. They would dance until dawn, forgetting the worries of daily life and surrendering to the magic of carefreeness. Zaïn had spent weeks meticulously preparing every detail of the party. From the most exquisite dishes coveted from the four corners of the world to the most delicate flowers from distant horizons, nothing had been left to chance. And his outfit, of undeniable audacity, would undoubtedly elicit whispers and curious glances from anyone who crossed his path that night, only increasing his pride and confidence.

The traditions of the Péris, people of sun-loving bon vivants, dictated that joyous celebrations be marked by brightly colored or light-toned attires, opulent jewelry, and dresses adorned with ostentatious embroidery. All of this was in stark contrast to the sheer muslin and black leather ensemble that Zaïn had chosen to wear for the occasion, an outfit that oscillated between minimalism and provocation, perfectly reflecting his unique personality.

His top featured a strikingly elegant rigid officer's collar, while leather epaulets provided a well-defined structure. The billowy black muslin sleeves floated gracefully along his slim and lean arms, before gently tapering at the wrists.

His pants, with an extremely high cut, enveloped his form down to the base of his behind, before falling straight. A wide black velvet belt, reminiscent of a classic tuxedo's, added a sumptuous touch to the ensemble. This exquisitely textured belt further accentuated the slimness of his waist, creating a perfect contrast with his broad shoulders.

To create this outfit, he drew inspiration from the clothing described in stories of wars and other epic tales from distant worlds that he had eagerly consumed since his early childhood. He boldly mixed eras, factions, and even genders.

Zaïn was deeply drawn to androgynous aesthetics, finding them undeniably appealing. He didn't hesitate to play with that style in his daily attires, regardless of what others might think.

As for his only jewelry, Zaïn wore a thin gold chain around his neck, with his name delicately calligraphed in Arabic. In his ear, a simple golden ring added a discreet touch.

His thick, silky black hair fell casually over his face. With an elegant hand gesture, he pushed it back. While eagerly awaiting Yara's arrival, he secretly hoped that she could redo the same braid she had sported during their last meeting in town, a hairstyle he had found charming.

On that day, the two friends had engaged in lively exchanges of amusing stories about the young people from neighboring cities, sharing carefree moments filled with laughter. Zaïn ardently wished they would have the opportunity to engage in light gossip again before the start of the festivities, to relax and release some of the accumulated pressure.

Nineteen years old.

Zain opened the French doors leading to the spacious balcony, allowing a summer breeze laden with the familiar scent of jasmine, the smell of his childhood, to waft into his room. As he walked to the far end of his beige marble terrace, he observed the people busy with preparations below. He searched within himself for any motivation or momentum to face what layed ahead. However, he was struck by something indefinable. It was evident that it wasn't just the monotonous nature of his existence or the approaching celebration that unsettled him. There was something in the air, almost tangible, a sinister and threatening veil that seemed to loom around him.

Most Péris were limited to developing one or two magical gifts throughout their lifetime, but Zaïn was an exception to this rule. Unexpectedly, he had inherited the power of empathy and deciphering, allowing him to replicate any form of magic once he understood and decoded its essence. In theory, that gave him unlimited access to a reservoir of extraordinary powers. However, as a novice in mastering his gifts, he lacked the practice to fully harness them. His empathic nature also made Zaïn highly sensitive to his surroundings, and every fiber of his being told him that something ominous was brewing.

The sounds of drums and lutes began to reach him, harmoniously blending with the summer atmosphere, infused with the scent of flowers. Zaïn closed his black eyes and tried to focus on the enchanting rhythm of the music to relax, but it didn't silence his intuition.

Just as he was about to return to his room to pour himself the first glass of Zhère, a sparkling and fruity alcohol he adored, Yara finally appeared, gracefully floating from the lower courtyard up to his balcony. Flying, it had been weeks since he had last tried. Zaïn's powers had become erratic lately, sometimes more potent than ever, sometimes almost nonexistent. He thought it might be due to his age. Perhaps Péris experienced such fluctuations in their powers as they approached their nineteenth birthday. Comforting his mind, Zaïn reasoned that if that were the case, his mother would have informed him, and he would certainly have been made aware.

Yara, about to step onto the balcony to join her friend, was suddenly halted mid-flight. A previously invisible security barrier materialized upon contact with her body, tinted in a transparent red. The energy field, now visible, extended like a magical protective film, forming a dome around the terrace, keeping Zain inside and leaving Yara outside.

"A new security barrier?" Yara exclaimed, accustomed to entering without hindrance.

Annoyed, Zain crossed his arms and quickly chanted "Eftah" three times, first changing the color of the force field to green before making it vanish entirely.

"My mother is getting paranoid lately, changing security spells every three days! She really needs a vacation!"

Yara finally approached Zain and affectionately embraced him.

"Happy birthday!" she said to him.

She then carefully examined her friend's outfit from head to toe and smiled.

"It's delightfully scandalous!" she remarked.

Zain, clearly pleased with this critique, smiled in return.

"I return you the compliment!"

Yara then spun around, twirling her gorgeous orange tulle gown that magnified her bronzed complexion. The Roman-inspired dress featured two symmetrical slits that began as high as the middle of her thighs, boldly revealing a good portion of her well-toned legs. A plunging neckline accentuated her generous chest, adding a seductive touch to the already provocative design. Her wavy chestnut hair cascaded gracefully over her shoulders, harmonizing beautifully with the enormous gold earrings adorned with amethyst that highlighted the lovely purple hue of Yara's eyes.

"The weather is far too good to stay inside; I'll get us some Zhère and two glasses!" Zaïn exclaimed before hurrying off towards his room.

After a few minutes and three glasses of Zhère, laughter filled the air between Zain and Yara. Sitting at an iron table on the balcony, Zain watched as Yara, standing beside him, braided a strand of his hair while chatting. The music below had grown louder, accompanied by various lively conversations of the guests, signaling that the party was already in full swing.

"... and they say she took all their gold and valuables, fleeing with her magical guardian..."

"Can we really blame her? Married so young to that sinister individual... And seriously, do you remember the guardian in question... Quite a specimen who is well worth taking a few risks for!"

Yara nodded, laughing, recalling with admiration her friend's fleeing lover's handsomness. Zain sighed, more relaxed, before confiding:

"It's nice to chat and take my mind off things... I've had a knot in my stomach all day... like a bad omen, but it should pass," he told his friend.

"A feeling related to your powers?" Yara asked, seeming to remember something.

"I'm not sure, hard to say. Why do you ask ?" Zain replied.

"When I arrived at the castle, I stopped by Jacob at his post before coming up here."

"No! And you're only telling me now?! Don't tell me you're seeing him again?!" Zain exclaimed, hoping that Yara had truly moved on from Jacob, whose toxic behavior was well known.

"I know... I know... he's not good for me and has no intention of changing. You can lecture me later... but putting all that aside, he mentioned something rather strange..."

"How so?" asked Zain, not sure where she was going with this.

"He said there was an alert earlier in the day, that the army had been mobilized, and he had to be ready to intervene..."

"Intervene? Intervene in what? Nothing serious ever happens around here..." Zain declared, growing increasingly concerned by this revelation.

"I don't know, but he seemed to think it was serious, some kind of threat... He said his orders came directly from your father. You really don't know anything about this?" Yara wondered.

Zain was usually informed about everything happening in the kingdom; his mother entrusted him with all the details. "No, not at all."

"Your feeling might be more serious than you think," Yara suddenly realized.

Those words had the same effect on Zain as the icy water of the lake when he decided to swim in it against everyone's advice, out of the two suns season. He was chilled.

"I haven't seen my mother all day... I better go ask her what's going on. She'll surely know more," the young man said, abruptly leaving his chair and heading towards his room.

"Zain, wait... You know Jacob, he tends to dramatize things to impress me. There's probably nothing to worry about!" his friend tried to reassure him, doubting the reliability of her source.

"I'd rather check for myself. I'll join you later at the party," he replied hastily, leaving his friend alone on the balcony, worried and lost in thought.

The few seconds he spent on his way between his quarters and his mother's seemed to stretch into eternity. The vast corridors, lit by lanterns, were strangely deserted, with no guards in sight, which was unusual. Finally, Zain arrived at the door to his parents' chambers and opened it with trembling hands. The immense room, adorned with walls and columns of rose gold and a gray marble floor, was completely empty. Zain cautiously entered, scrutinizing every corner, but found nothing.

Finally, he noticed a moving shadow behind the mashrabiya screen, near the majestic dressing table where his mother and him spent a lot countless hours together since his early childhood. A shiver ran through his body as his mother suddenly emerged from behind the object, dressed in her evening attire. Uma's face lit up with a serene smile upon seeing her son, and she approached him with her characteristic grace, dressed in a beautiful ivory silk kaftan. Her gray hair was styled in a sophisticated bun, while her delicate wrists were adorned with magnificent calligraphic gold cuffs. Rings of various shapes and sizes, set with multicolored stones, sparkled on her fingers, adding a touch of whimsical refinement to her outfit.

Zain rushed toward her and embraced her. His mother, pleasantly surprised, returned the embrace with a smile, unaware of the anxiety her son was experiencing. She asked him, "Are you okay, dear? I thought you were already downstairs with the others!"

"I'm better now! I was afraid something bad had happened..." he replied, breathless.

"Don't worry, there's enough Zhère downstairs for ten evenings like this. I made sure of it myself, so don't panic."

Uma had taken an exceptional day off, at the advice of Bashar, her husband, to relax. It was something she would never have agreed to under normal circumstances, as she was constantly busy working without thinking of anything else. Zain was the only person with whom she could engage in frivolous conversations and laugh like a child. And if there was one day when she could slow down a bit, enjoy the party, and ensure the festivities went smoothly, it was her beloved son's birthday.

She gracefully sat on the chair in front of her dressing table and began applying her lipstick. But upon seeing Zain's expression, still pale, through the mirror's reflection, she grew concerned. "Zain, what's going on?!"

"Nothing... I feel strange..."

"It's probably because of those pants and that belt cutting off your circulation..." she teased.

Zain eventually smiled, relieved to share this intimate moment with his mother. Maybe he had worried too quickly. His emotions were truly on a rollercoaster. He scrutinized his reflection in his mother's mirror, observing the cut of the pants on his body, and asked Uma, "You don't like it?!"

" I do, I'm just teasing you. I really like it."

Uma now carefully applied kohl to her eyes, under Zain's admiring gaze, before announcing to him, "But you're missing something," she declared.

With a jump, Uma stood up and positioned herself in front of her son. She began gently applying kohl to his eyes while explaining to him, "You know... all great warriors used to wear this."

Zain responded with a hint of humor, "Is that what you're going to tell your husband when he gives me those disapproving looks?"

Uma gave him a conspiratorial smile. "As if those looks mattered to you..."

Zain pondered for a moment, then admitted, "They don't matter to me, but I have to admit, sometimes I wish I had more in common with him and my brothers... then I quickly remember there's you, and it all goes away!"

Uma finished outlining Zain's eyes, then looked at him proudly, saying, "There, splendid. I've always found it more beautiful on your black eyes."

It was true that Zain was the only Péri who didn't have violet eyes, unlike the members of his tribe. His mother had always celebrated that difference and encouraged him to embrace who he was. This uniqueness had sometimes elicited intrigued looks and questions, but Uma had always protected her son and instilled confidence in him. It was also this difference that fueled Zain's dreams of adventure and discovery, longing to explore other worlds and perhaps one day find someone who shared his uniqueness.

Zain sat in front of the dressing table at his mother's chair, admiring his reflection in the mirror. Uma positioned herself behind him, placing her hands on her son's shoulders, and said gently, "You know, your father and brothers are afraid of you, of your potential. They fear what they don't understand—your powers and your passions. But you, you're like me, you're not afraid. By the way, your braid looks magnificent."

A grateful smile formed on Zain's face. His mother had always been there to support him, even when no one else understood him. He felt fortunate to have such an extraordinary and loving mom by his side.

"Yara just braided my hair, she also told me the strangest story," Zain confided.

Uma, well-informed about the kingdom's gossip, asked with curiosity, "The magical guard on the run with Daria?"

Zain was surprised that she had heard of it. He replied, "No, although I'm impressed that this rumor reached you."

With a sly smile, Uma revealed, "I too have my sources to stay updated, you know."

Zain's smile widened, then he adopted a more serious expression and asked, "It was about an alert in the kingdom to mobilize the army... Do you know anything about it?"

Perplexed, Uma responded, "What do you mean?"

"Probably nothing important if you're not aware of it. Jacob told her about it, something about an imminent threat. Apparently, his orders came directly from Dad..." Zain murmured to his mother, furrowing his brow.

Uma froze, deep in thought for a few seconds. Then, she spoke in a frustrated tone, "Your father, who did everything to ensure I relaxed today in prevision of your birthday party, by keeping me out of his way? How gullible can I be! An alert, you say? Oh, he'll pay for this!"

Without wasting a moment, Uma rushed to the folding screen behind which she had appeared a few minutes earlier, disappearing behind the object. Metallic sounds echoed in the room, evidence of her frantic search.

Intrigued and worried, Zain stood up from his seat, approaching the folding screen cautiously. He dared to ask in an uncertain voice, completely bewildered by her sudden reaction, "Mom, what's going on?"

Uma finally reappeared. In each of her hands, she firmly held a sword. Without hesitation, she handed one to Zain, who remained dumbfounded by this unexpected gesture. The other blade remained firmly gripped in her own hand. Uma gazed intensely at her son and said with determination, "Darling, take this, we don't have much time!"

An echo of heavy footsteps resounded in the corridor, drawing nearer to the room. The sounds of boots mingled with the murmurs of a growing crowd, signaling the imminent arrival of what seemed to be a large crowd.

Uma swiftly turned toward the double doors of her bedroom, her eyes gleaming with fierce determination. She crossed her arms in front of her, uttering an incantation quickly, "Eghlak." A magical aura briefly enveloped the room. Then, turning back to Zain, her expression serious, she declared urgently, "Follow me!" Without waiting, she grabbed her son's hand and dashed toward the balcony with surprising swiftness.

With a simple movement of her hand, Uma magically opened the French doors, revealing the terrace shrouded in the darkness of the night. Stars twinkled above them, while a gentle breeze caressed their faces. Uma rushed to the edge of the terrace, and without casting a backward glance, she jumped into the void with Zain, leading him in a freefall into the unknown.

Uma and Zain plummeted in a dizzying fall, plunging into an abyss of several dozen meters. In those moments of anguish, Zain's heart threatened to burst in his chest. "Happy birthday," he ironically thought, even in the face of imminent death. Everything seemed to indicate that they were destined to crash. But just before the inevitable impact, they were miraculously stopped a few inches from the ground. Uma had unleashed her powers and created a cloud of energy that emerged beneath their feet, acting as a providential cushion. This shield caught them just in time, avoiding the impending catastrophe. Once the threat was averted, the cloud dissipated and they landed gently, leaving Zain in a state of complete disbelief. He had no idea that his mother possessed such an extraordinary ability.

But who was pursuing them? And where were they heading? What compelled Uma to react so imperiously and resolutely?

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Zain broke the silence and addressed his mother, "Are you finally going to tell me what's going on?"

Uma, determined, fixed her gaze on him and replied, "I promise you. I'll explain everything."

A loud noise from above reached them, signaling that the door to Uma's chambers had finally given way under the relentless assault. The pursuers were on the verge of catching up with them.

"But for now, run!" Uma ordered with a determined voice.

Without wasting a second, Uma dashed into a frenzied run, pulling Zain along by the arm through the crowd of guests scattered in the palace's splendid gardens. These gardens were the stage for a joyful celebration in honor of Zain's birthday, where hundreds of guests, dressed in their finest silk attire, enjoyed enchanting oriental music while holding cups of zhère. But now, their joy and wonder gave way to utter confusion as they watched, spellbound, the queen and the young prince cut through the crowd with swords in hand, slicing through the bougainvillea-lined pathways.

Uma and Zain raced down the stone staircase leading to the lower part of the estate. They reached an expansive labyrinth with walls of lush greenery, a true architectural and aesthetic marvel. It was a place where young adventurers came to play, getting lost for hours, far from adult eyes.

Upon reaching the entrance of the labyrinth, Uma placed her hand on the plant-covered wall, leaving a red magical imprint on the grass. When she and her son crossed the threshold, a dome of energy in the same red, similar to the one protecting Zain's room, unfolded around the labyrinth, now preventing any intrusion. This emergency plan had been meticulously devised by Uma long ago, and she fervently hoped to successfully execute it.

Knowing that this barrier wouldn't hold for long, Uma knew she had to act quickly in her son's best interest. She ventured deeper into the labyrinth, still leading Zain behind her. Suddenly, she came to a halt, finally facing him. The boy was completely stunned and disoriented by the recent events.

"We don't have much time; they will catch up soon," she said in a tense voice.

"Who's going to catch us, Mom?! What's going on?!" Zain asked, panicking.

"Darling, there's a prophecy surrounding the birth of an exceptional being, the Decipherer..."

"The Decipherer?!"

"It's you, Zain."

"What?!" Zain exclaimed, growing increasingly confused.

"Your abilities have caused certain tribe, a particular group, to dedicate their entire existence to finding you."

"Are they the ones pursuing us?" Zain questioned, trying to piece together the story his mother was telling him.

"I'm afraid not, dear. Your birth has caused a division within our own community. Some, like me, see you as the miracle you are, while others perceive you as a threat to the peace we had managed to establish..."

"You mean it's our own army chasing us?! People I've known my whole life?! We need to warn Dad and my brothers; they must be in danger too..."

"Don't worry about that, Zain, we have more pressing issues to deal with," Uma tried to reassure him, seeking to divert his attention.

"We can't just leave them to fend for themselves with what's happening! They might..."

"Don't worry about that, I'm telling you..." Uma insisted, looking him straight in the eyes.

A shiver ran through the boy's body, and suddenly, it struck him: "My God, Dad... Dad is behind all of this," Zain affirmed, finally understanding, under his mother's saddened gaze, who couldn't contradict him.

"When I realized who you were, the extent of your powers, and what they represented, I took on a more significant role in the kingdom's politics to ensure I could protect you if i evr needed to. I wanted to make sure that if something happened, you would be safe, because I knew your father had always been fearful of the prophecy. I thought I had dispelled his apprehensions and doubts long ago, but he must have been preparing this attack in secret..."

"But he's my father, my family! I know we don't have much in common, but to do this?! And my brothers are with him?!" Zain exclaimed, completely bewildered.

"Zain, as I told you, they're afraid, and fear sometimes drives us to do the unthinkable..."

"Afraid of what? And why is this other group looking for me? What do they want from me exactly? I don't even understand my own powers; I can't be that useful to them; they must be mistaken!" The young Péri cried out, panicked.

His mother took his hand to reassure him and looked at him with her wise, violet eyes. "My only mistake was not telling you sooner, not preparing you. I wanted you to have the most peaceful life possible, and your father used my affection for you as a weakness to manipulate me and make me believe he was on my side," Uma explained, determined to make Bashar pay for this ultimate betrayal. While there had been many disagreements between the spouses, she never thought he would be capable of targeting their son, her precious Zain. She silently vowed that this betrayal would not go unpunished for her husband.

"But this is insane; there must be a way to stop all of this! We should try to talk to Dad. I can try to give up my powers if that's really the issue..." Zain's mind was racing, desperately searching for a solution to the overwhelming events he was witnessing helplessly.

"Dear, listen to me carefully. You've always known you were different, unique. You've always wanted to go on adventures, to discover the worlds depicted in the stories you've been reading since you were a child. Today, you're nineteen, Zain, the time has come," Uma told him, tears welling up in her eyes at the thought of parting from her son.

"Go where?! And how in the middle of all this chaos?"

"A portal will take you far enough to keep you safe," she replied, having already made all the necessary arrangements.

"I won't go anywhere without you! I can't leave you here; they'll come after you for helping me escape!" Zain exclaimed, terrified at the thought of anything bad happening to his mother.

"Zain, don't worry about me. You know your mother. For every soldier your father managed to enlist, I have three others who are loyal to me and ready to take up arms to protect me. That's why your father organized this surprise attack, to catch us off guard, but I've already alerted my allies, and they should already be deployed."

"Then I'll stay and fight by your side. If all of this is because of me, I want to stay," the boy declared, determined.

"Zain, we've managed to live in harmony until now by hiding from the people searching for you, it won't be possible after tonight. The battle that's raging outside will lead them to us, and they must not find you here when they arrive."

"No, this is insane! We must still be able to stop all of this!"

The red energy dome surrounding the labyrinth was suddenly bombarded by repeated magical lightning bolts, seemingly trying to break the force field. The repeated strikes caused multicolored flashes of light above their heads, like fireworks in the sky. Uma, realizing the urgency of the situation, took her son's hands in hers, looked him in the eyes, and said calmly, "You have to trust me; everything will be fine. And when this sad situation is over with and behind us, I will come find you myself, I promise."

"Mom, there's no way! Know that no matter where you plan to send me, I will find a way to come back!"

Uma, with a pained expression, fixed her son with a sad gaze. "I knew you would react this way, dear. That's why the portal that will transport you has been specially designed to erase from your memory any details that could endanger you," she confided, her voice filled with regret.

Panic seized Zain, making his voice quiver. "What?! You wouldn't dare do that to me! Abandon me in the middle of nowhere with no memory?!" His words stumbled in his mouth, revealing the anguish that already consumed him.

Uma sighed, her gaze filled with deep sadness. "The spell won't alter your personality or your powers, Zain. It will simply block anything related to your origins... and this conversation."

Desperation showed on Zain's face as he pleaded with his mother in a supplicating voice. "Mom, please, there must be another way ! Don't do this!"

Uma felt her heart breaking in the face of her beloved son's distress. Her own tears threatened to spill, but deep down, she knew this was the only way out. With determined resolve, she bent down to pick up her sword, which was left on the ground, never breaking eye contact with Zaïn. Then, without hesitation, she pressed the blade against the palm of her right hand and made a horizontal cut. Pain coursed through her, but she endured it.

As blood welled up from her wound, Uma placed her bloodied hand on the plant wall to her right, reciting words long forgotten: "Eftah el beb." Dark energy began to form where her hand had touched the wall, swirling menacingly.

Zain, trembling with surprise and dread, watched as the scene unfolded before him. The leaves of the plants surrounding them began to whirl in the air, carried by the growing whirlwind. A deafening tornado-like noise filled the labyrinth, drowning out words and tears.

"I love you, dear, and I promise I will find you!" Uma shouted through the chaotic maelstrom, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She wanted to stop time, but the vortex forming before them suddenly pulled Zain toward it with an irresistible magnetic force. He disappeared abruptly, sucked into the darkness.

Silence descended upon the labyrinth; even the shots at the magical barrier ceased, freezing the moment in deceptive peace. Uma, her heart shattered, wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her gaze fell upon Zain's sword, abandoned on the ground—a symbol of their forced separation. The pain that had gripped her slowly transformed into a burning anger directed at Bashar and all those who had betrayed them, who had torn them apart with unimaginable violence.

Uma had both swords now, gripping their handles with unwavering determination. Her face, marked by sadness and maternal love, now displayed fierce resolve. The magical dome had just crumbled before her eyes, and she was more than ready to fight, to face all obstacles in order to find her beloved son. A new battle was about to begin, and Uma was more than prepared to confront it head-on.