Lost Souls | 𝟏

➳ 40

THE SIDEWAYS GLANCES he's throwing at me are a mix of embarrassment and hesitation. We've been talking little, and we're halfway through the journey to the Lighthouse, so I don't want to waste any more time. It's the middle of the night, and I had to wake him up, ask him to follow me, endure his complaints, and bring him to the shore of the Shadowmere Lake, far from the rest of the group.

This conversation is crucial, it's... the metaphor of the irony of fate. I've been extremely diligent not to let anything slip since our first meeting, when I invited him to get on the white horse. As always, I will take on the true and only responsibility that I have sought.

Raor turns toward Syl, who is walking behind us. This forest is spacious enough and devoid of dense vegetation, so her wings don't get caught. The man has a funny look on his face; he wants to ask me why she's awake and following us, but he keeps his mouth shut to remain silent.

"This will do." The placid waters of the lake are a natural spectacle, and the nocturnal cicadas conduct the orchestra of sounds. "There's an important discussion we need to have."

I have everything I need to say in my head, and I'm quickly reviewing it. My heart beats, beats, beats. My stomach melts as if anxiety were a corrosive acid. My white Dragon lies here beside me and moves her shoulders a bit.

"I know what you want to talk about," Raor says, Asmeidur's sword vibrating with his emotions.

Syl and I lift our heads.