The forest night was a tapestry of deep indigo and velvet black, the moon a brilliant silver coin tossed high in the inky expanse. Its light, sharp and clean, knifed through the dense canopy, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns of light and shadow.
The moon's gentle luminescence, a soft caress upon his face, stirred Aerion from his slumber. A subtle pressure, a natural imperative, nudged him awake. He shifted restlessly on the plush cushions of the carriage, a small frown creasing his brow. The insistent call of nature, a mundane reality intruding on dreams of celestial flight, could no longer be ignored.
With a soft sigh, Aerion pushed himself up, his small body stiff from the long hours of travel. He stretched his arms and legs, easing the stiffness in his joints. [I really need to pee. Ugh, why don't they have proper toilet facilities in these things? So inconvenient.]
He slipped out of the carriage, the cool night air raising goosebumps on his skin. The surrounding forest was alive with the rustling of leaves and the chirping of unseen insects. After a moment of searching, he found a secluded spot behind a thicket of ferns. He fumbled with the buttons of his small, intricately embroidered pants, relief washing over him as he finally answered nature's call.
[Ahhhh, that's much better. I really should pay more attention to these bodily urges.]
As he finished, a soft rustling sound from behind caught his attention. He turned quickly, peering through the darkness. A small wolf pup, its fur the color of deepest night, was roaming fearlessly amongst the oblivious guards, its large, luminous blue eyes scanning the surroundings with an unnerving intelligence. Aerion quickly fastened his pants and wiped his hands on the soft moss before cautiously approaching the creature.
The pup startled at his movement, taking a few hesitant steps back. Aerion immediately knelt down, moving as slowly and deliberately as possible, trying to convey his harmless intentions.
The pup tilted its head, its enormous blue eyes fixed on him with a curious intensity. [This beautiful little animal… how did it get here? Is it lost? Where's its mother?]
Just as Aerion reached out a tentative hand to stroke its head, the pup suddenly jumped back, its small body tensing. In his eagerness, Aerion shifted his foot a little too quickly, the sudden movement scaring the already wary creature. With a swift, silent dart, the pup vanished into the deep, shadowy embrace of the forest, leaving the camp as if it had never been there.
Aerion sighed, placing a small hand on his chest, a faint pang of disappointment echoing within him. After a moment, he stood up and began to walk back towards the carriage.
As he reached the ornate vehicle, his fingers tracing the cool brass of its exterior, he heard Vivienne's voice coming from the direction of the flickering bonfire. He peered inside the carriage, finding it empty.
Scratching his head in confusion, he silently moved into the shadows of a large oak tree near the fire. Peeking out from behind its broad trunk, he saw Vivienne sitting on the opposite side of Lysander, the firelight casting dancing shadows on their faces.
Vivienne had tucked her right hand behind her long, pointed elven ear, her gaze intently focused on Lysander, who was looking down at the ground, his voice filled with a quiet contrition. "My apologies… Your Highness."
The unexpected words struck Vivienne, and Aerion, with equal surprise. Vivienne, who had been about to speak, paused, allowing him to continue.
"I should have kept my… perhaps more strongly worded opinions to myself at the council meeting," Lysander continued, his tone still laced with regret.
Vivienne closed her eyes for a moment, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she shook her head slowly. "No, Lysander. Please do not feel that way. Speaking your mind, offering your honest assessment – that is your duty as a member of the council and as the military head of Sangrael. If anything were to go wrong, the responsibility would ultimately fall upon your shoulders. I understand that."
"But I fear I came across as… insensitive to your deep connection with Suryasthirh and the elven civilization, and to Lord Aerion's heritage," Lysander admitted, his voice softening further. "If the situation were reversed, and someone attempted to keep me from other humans, I would likely react with considerable displeasure."
"Species is not the crux of the matter for me, Lysander," Vivienne replied, her voice calm and understanding. "I recognize your… pre-existing biases and prejudices towards certain species or civilizations. What is truly important is that you acknowledge your earlier insensitivity. That understanding, in itself, is valuable."
Lysander's expression shifted from sadness to one of surprised curiosity. "You… you forgive me? Your Highness?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Vivienne nodded, her gentle smile widening, radiating warmth and sincerity.
Aerion, concealed behind the tree, listened intently, his earlier annoyance with the stern Lord Lysander softening. [This stone-faced guy actually feels bad about what he said. Huh… well, maybe he's not such a bad person after all.]
Aerion leaned against the rough bark of the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, the rigid surface grounding him. Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation. Unseen by him, Lysander, still grappling with his earlier words, had subconsciously raised his hand slightly in the air towards the direction of the rustling leaves. Unnoticed, the grass beneath Aerion's feet began to grow at an unnatural speed. As the first blade of grass brushed against his knee, Aerion's eyes snapped open. Startled, he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground.
Instantly, the rapidly growing grass coiled around him, weaving together with surprising speed and strength, encasing him in a tight, cocoon-like braid of green.
Vivienne raised a delicate eyebrow, turning towards the sudden commotion, her gaze falling upon Aerion, neatly bound in his grassy prison. Lysander, too, looked shocked, realizing with a jolt who he had inadvertently ensnared. "Young Lord?" he exclaimed, a mixture of surprise in vivienne's voice. "What are you doing here, my child? Why aren't you asleep?"
Aerion's cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping in such a ridiculous predicament. He opened his mouth to speak, but no coherent words would come out.
Vivienne's lips curved into a mischievous smile as she gracefully walked towards him. Lysander, watching her approach, asked hesitantly, "Your Highness, should I… release our young spy?"
"No," Vivienne replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Not just yet, at least. It seems you've caught me a rather interesting piece of prey this time, Lysander."
She knelt down to Aerion's level and gently poked his nose, repeating the action playfully and rapidly. "What are you doing here, little one? Were you eavesdropping on your Momma?"
Aerion shook his head vehemently, trying to avoid her teasing finger, his bound body swinging slightly like a pendulum. "No!" he finally managed to squeak out.
Vivienne increased the speed of her pokes, her own lips forming a soft pout. "What do you mean, 'no'? Lord Lysander clearly caught you lurking here."
"I… I went to pee," Aerion stammered, "and I heard your voice… and you weren't in the carriage…" He paused, taking a shaky breath. "So… I thought I should just… take a look. But I didn't hear anything important, I swear, Maa."
Hearing him speak so fluently and clearly, even in his childlike voice, was astonishing to Lysander. [I have never encountered a child with such clarity of thought and expression, especially at this age. And combined with his early Awakening… he is far from a regular prodigy. Hmm, most intriguing.]
"Hawwww," Vivienne cooed, her voice dripping with mock concern. "Were you worried about your Momma? Did you miss me already, my baby boy?" Aerion turned his face away, his ears burning with embarrassment, Vivienne clearly relishing her playful torment.
Lysander, witnessing the Queen's amusement, carefully loosened the grassy bonds around Aerion and gently helped him to his feet.
Vivienne shot Lysander a playful, yet slightly grumpy look as he released the young prince, which visibly startled the stoic warrior. He raised his hands in a gesture of bewildered surrender. "What happened? Why do you look like that, Your Highness? Did I… did I make a mistake?"
Vivienne simply remained silent, turning her head away, the eloquent silence speaking volumes. [Yeah, she's definitely mad about something… but what did I do now?] Lysander wondered, thoroughly perplexed.
Suddenly, a loud, panicked cry erupted from the direction of the carriage, where the remaining guards were stationed. Lysander's posture instantly shifted, his body tensing. He swiftly donned his polished silver helmet, its visor clicking into place. Vivienne, with a sudden, protective movement, pulled Aerion close, scooping him up into her arms.
They stood side-by-side, their gazes sweeping the surrounding darkness in opposite directions, a united front against the unseen threat.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Lysander's voice boomed, loud enough for Vivienne and Aerion to hear clearly above the rising cries of alarm. His grip tightened on the hilt of his silvery sword, his eyes scanning every shadow, every rustle of leaves. Vivienne's own eyes flickered with a golden light, her elven senses acutely analyzing the chaotic scene. "I can't see any intruders…" she murmured, her voice low and concerned.
As she spoke, a dense, unnatural fog began to swirl around them, thick and disorienting, swallowing the moonlight. The screams of the guards grew fainter, more muffled, eventually fading into an unsettling silence.
"Just stay close like this, Your Highness," Lysander instructed, his voice strained. "Do not break physical contact at any point." He then shouted into the swirling mist, "CAXAIS! ANDRE! HEENA!" His voice seemed to be swallowed by the fog, as if he were yelling into a void, receiving no reply.
Aerion, his eyes wide with terror, clung tightly to Vivienne, his heart hammering against his ribs. [What is happening? What happened to the soldiers? Am I in danger? Oh no… it feels like I'm going to die… again.]
Even amidst the growing chaos, Vivienne's maternal instincts took over. She gently caressed Aerion's back, a small, reassuring gesture that made him tighten his grip on her corset, seeking solace and protection. [Please save me… I'm so weak right now. I can't use magic like others… I can't defend myself.]
Flashes of his previous life flickered through his mind – Lucian's warning, "Life is much harsher than I am being to you," and then fragmented images of his old life: the glow of a computer monitor in a darkened room, the chatter of friends on Discord, the occasional night out, the mundane routine that had been so abruptly shattered. But the gentle rhythm of Vivienne's hand on his back pulled him back to the present danger.
"I have a plan," Vivienne's voice, though calm, carried a note of urgency as it reached Lysander's ears through the swirling fog.
"What could that be, Your Highness?" Lysander replied, his sword held ready.
"I can create an opening," Vivienne explained quickly. "You will need to cut down anything that comes through it. Then I will dash through, taking Aerion. You can hold your own, can't you?"
Lysander's eyes, though unseen beneath his helmet, burned with fierce determination and unwavering loyalty. "Yes, my lady. I can. I exist to protect the Sangrael throne…"
Vivienne nodded, her gaze fixed on the wall of fog in front of them. A spark of intense magical energy ignited in her eyes, and a complex crest of power shimmered into existence on her outstretched palm. A palpable pressure built in the air, and then, with a silent release, a massive force erupted from her hand, tearing through the dense fog. The fog within a two-hundred-meter radius before her vanished as if it had never been, the immense pressure leaving a clean, circular opening, revealing the first rays of the rising sun on the horizon. A large section of the forest in front of them looked as if it had been scorched to ashes.
Within the first two seconds of the fog wall dissipating, a swarm of large, black bees, their stingers glinting menacingly, descended upon them, three veering directly towards Vivienne and Aerion.
Lysander reacted instantly. He moved with blinding speed, a silver blur between the swarm and the mother and child. In a swift, almost imperceptible motion, he sheathed his sword, closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, and then unleashed it. Blinding slashes of blue light, the visible manifestation of his sword connecting with the SāraJibh of the bees, tore through the air, cutting each and every insect cleanly in half. Lysander moved so fast he seemed to vanish, leaving only the shimmering trails of his blade.
[I… I can't even see him move properly. What is this speed? How is he so strong?] Aerion thought, his fear momentarily overshadowed by awe.
After what felt like an eternity but was barely five seconds, Lysander's form began to materialize once more, his movements slowing as he resheathed his sword, landing silently on his feet. Vivienne's golden eyes still sparked with power. She cast a circular spell on the ground before them, and then, with a deep breath, opened her mouth, the ancient words of power resonating in the suddenly clear air.
"Tejasvinaḥ sūryasya vegaḥ."
Her silver hair began to shine with an inner light, each strand seeming to illuminate with its own intricate pattern. A large, focused ray of pure energy erupted from the spell beneath her feet, cutting a swathe through the remaining forest.