The child of wolves (English version)

The meeting Part 3.

The morning after his nocturnal escapade, Astral woke up still dreamy, with images of Isenhavn dancing in his mind. This city, with its towering walls, bustling streets, and mysteries around every corner, had left a lasting impression on the young boy. He felt like he had glimpsed a world much larger than his home village of Frostheilm.

Without delay, he washed up and went downstairs for breakfast. Everything in this grand house still felt foreign and overwhelming to him. The rooms were so vast and richly decorated that Astral felt almost insignificant amidst all the splendor. As he wandered in search of the dining room, he accidentally stumbled into a parlor, where breakfast awaited him. A well-laid table was filled with cakes, fresh fruits, and exotic juices. Sugar, a rare and precious commodity in his village, was served in abundance here.

Astral sat down, and though amazed by the quantity of food, he couldn't help but think of the simple meals that Thelaria prepared back in Frostheilm. Here, everything seemed perfect, but a bit soulless. Nevertheless, he enjoyed tasting each fruit and cake, savoring the sweetness of the sugar that he rarely had the chance to eat.

Around him, the servants busied themselves in silence. They moved with an almost unreal grace and discretion, as if trained to blend into the background. They moved from task to task without a word, cleaning, serving dishes, and adjusting the smallest details in the room. Astral watched them, fascinated. A man in dark livery knelt by the fireplace, quietly stoking the fire without making a sound. A young woman, at the far end of the room, dusted the furniture, her movements so measured that she seemed to barely touch the objects.

Once he had finished his meal, Astral left the dining room and continued to explore the manor, getting lost in its many corridors. The opulence of the place left him perplexed. He had never seen such vast rooms, such detailed tapestries, nor such impressive chandeliers. The corridors seemed endless, and each new door he opened revealed another richly decorated room.

As he wandered through the maze of the manor, he eventually heard voices. Intrigued, he followed the sound to a slightly open door, from which Hakon's deep, measured voice emanated. Without being noticed, he approached the door, close enough to hear the conversation.

- "Listen, Virion, if I asked you to come, it's because the situation is becoming critical," Hakon began in a serious tone.

Virion, in a cautious yet resolute voice, replied:

- "Explain to me what's happening."

- "The southern kingdoms are starting to prepare for something. We've received reports indicating an increase in recruitment, and some of our spies are talking about the mass production of magical weapons. There's a war brewing, Virion, and we must be ready."

Hidden behind the door, Astral felt his heart race. The mention of war stirred an anxiety within him that he had never felt before.

- "Hakon... You know very well that I can no longer fight," Virion said, his voice tired yet firm. "I'm too old for this, and Frostheilm doesn't have the army or the resources to contribute to a conflict of this scale."

- "I'm not asking you to take up arms yourself," Hakon retorted, a calculated smile appearing on his lips. "I'm simply asking you to provide what you already have... the Arcanium."Virion remained silent for a moment, understanding where Hakon was going with this.

- "Frostheilm is small," he continued, "but we're already extracting that ore and selling it to the kingdom's blacksmiths. It's not like we have endless amounts at our disposal."

Hakon nodded, as if expecting this response.

- "What I'm proposing is a direct deal. You sell the Arcanium to us, exclusively. We'll forge it into armor, weapons capable of repelling any threat. And I assure you, the price we're offering is more than generous."