Binding Fate: Betrothed to the Otherworldly Duke

Chapter 8: Hounded Through the Streets

The raven's ebony plumes ruffled, then settled smoothly into place, each feather shimmering as I took the items it had delivered. A heavy silence descended upon us, the air thick with the weight of the mission I had just relayed, to breach the sanctity of the Church's newly consecrated temple while the High Priest was visiting the castle.

Belmont's piercing gaze settled on Henry as he paced the length of the grand chamber. Each stride he took was measured, echoing the rhythm of my racing mind as I formulated a strategy. Jansen and Eliot, their features painted with anticipation, turned to Belmont, seeking direction on what to do next.

Ras's voice pierced the silence, its gravelly undertone resonating in the vast room. "Five days is barely a blink," he voiced, capturing the dread gnawing at all of them.

Leaning back in his high-backed wooden chair, Jansen remarked, "The forest's edge alone is half a day's journey." His eyes followed Henry's relentless pacing, searching for clues in his restless movement.

"With the right incantations, I could weave a traveling circle," Aldric proposed, his voice frayed with exhaustion but firm in resolve.

Eliot's retort was immediate, and his youthful impatience was evident. "Your magic, potent as it is, demands a toll. And you, old man, have drawn deeply from your reserves." A brief flash of anger ignited in the old mage's eyes, and the raw power of his magic was palpable.

Belmont intervened, trying to soothe the tension. "A traveling circle would indeed require a lot of magic."

Henry stopped abruptly, his gaze fixing on Aldric. "We'd only employ it for our exit," he stated decisively.

"You've devised a plan already?" Belmont asked, impressed.

"We will set forth at dawn on the day of the visit, hiding in wait for the temple's procession to pass," Henry explained.

Jansen interjected, a hint of doubt in his voice. "The expanse leading to Elysarra Forest is an open moor. How do you propose we remain unseen?"

"Aldric will cast a cloaking spell on you," I declared, "similar to the one he cast upon the raven."

Eliot, ever meticulous, pointed out, "And what of our steeds? Cloaking them will require a lot more magic."

My strategic mind was already steps ahead. "The route to the forest will take you towards Verdantvale. A prominent hillock en route will shield you as you disembark. Ras will safeguard the mounts while the rest of you proceed on foot into the forest."

My intense gaze shifted between Jansen and Eliot as I sought assurance. "Jansen, Eliot, can you recall the path to the temple?" The two exchanged a fleeting glance before nodding confidently. "Excellent; our success hinges on your swift navigation. Once we penetrate the temple's inner sanctum, we'll split up to retrieve the artifacts."

I turned to Aldric again, eyebrows raised slightly in query. "Aldric, once inside, can you ensure their safe passage out of the Church?"

A smirk played on Aldric's lips, a mix of pride and aged wisdom. "There exists no fortress or realm that my magic cannot infiltrate or escape from."

Eliot, his youth often steering his tongue before his mind could grasp the reins, muttered more to himself than to the group, "Yet the source of the energy pulse eludes you." The whisper was barely audible, but it might as well have been a shout for Aldric's sharpened ears.

Faster than the blink of an eye, Aldric's face contorted, his eyes narrowing into slits—a radiant surge of violet energy shot forth from his outstretched palm, engulfing Eliot. The sheer force propelled the young knight backward, causing him to crash heavily onto the cold, unyielding stone floor.