Sumon
Sumon took off her clothes and slipped into the tub filled with boiling water carefully prepared by the maids that evening.
Night had fallen quickly on that cloudy day, the moon was not visible, covered with thick gray clouds, making it dark and dark.
She took a deep breath and let the scent of the oils envelop her completely, relaxing her.
Before leaving her alone, the servants had served her dinner and lit a few candles inside the room, making the environment gloomy, but welcoming.
She had left the food on the table, not touching it in the slightest, her appetite had disappeared. Her stomach had been closed from the moment a messenger arrived from the borderlands with Locrand.
The new queen closed her eyes and rested her head on the wooden edge of the tub, letting the hot steam and perfumes fill her nose, relaxing all the tense muscles of her body.
Nathan had left immediately to go check the situation
"Rotten? How is this possible? They died yesterday or am I wrong?" Sumon turned her head towards him, looking at his profile, while Nathan stared at an undefined point in front of him and drank. The apple that came down, while he swallowed the wine."It's the same thing I asked for when I got there. But then one of the farmers opened one of the beasts, showing me what really frightened him. As soon as he opened the meat, a dark, thick liquid poured out of it, releasing a disgusting smell. Half of my stash started vomiting just with the smell." He inhaled deeply as if his nostrils were still filled with that smell, as if he could feel it even in the room. "The exterior was normal, but the interior was disgusting. The flesh was beginning to take on a black color and the organs were completely rancid, as if it had been dead for weeks. Not even the crows approached to feast." He shrugged his shoulders as if he had been struck with a shiver of disgust."That's not a good om
Taryn"Bring Werod back to life?" asked Taryn surprised. "Werod is just a legend. A story to scare children.""Behind every story there is a kernel of truth, Your Majesty. For example, children are told the stories of great warriors with extraordinary magical powers and we ourselves are led to think of magic as a frivolity, as a story created just to entertain us when we were children, but the other day you saw what happened. You saw what you did."Taryn remembered the incident a few days earlier. That strange force that even now she felt circulating in her body and was doing everything to keep her at bay. It threatened to take over, to escape from her like an indomitable tiger trying to escape from the cage in which she had been locked for years."It was just an illusion, a coincidence. I slammed into the table and the jug broke," she said, shaking her head."You slammed so hard that you made the jug explode
"When it happened, my father decided to take her to the priestesses and there we met a woman, one of the Ucrie," Elhias said, his gaze lost and his mind turned to those old memories."A Ucria?" she asked in surprise.Elhias nodded. "She was, before she became a priestess herself.""You really saw a Ucria," Taryn said in disarray."They're not three-headed monsters, Taryn. They are human beings like us," Elhias said with a laugh."Didn't you ever think it could be dangerous? Could she be a spy?""The Docria trusted her blindly, if the ancient priestess can trust a Ucria, I don't see why I shouldn't too," Elhias replied, shrugging his shoulders, as if it were the most normal thing in the world."Do you realize that you trust others too much?" said Taryn in an exasperated tone."What can I do, I like to see the good in people," he replied, winking."What did the Ucria tell you?" Taryn immediately changed the subject.
"The Sunauras were majestic creatures and managed to defeat and seal the power of the Ucrie. They confined him, but made a small sacrifice. They also had to confine the power of all other men, they bound it to the lives of those who later became the Old Men. As long as at least one of them remained alive, that power would never be released. Left alone and defenseless, Werod had to deal only with the Sunaura. A face-to-face confrontation, but despite the great power they had, they could not defeat him. When they were almost completely annihilated, the Sunaura combined their powers and one of them collected them to defeat him definitively, creating their own Bringan. The elected used all the power in his body to seal Werod.""Seal?" asked Taryn, confused."Killing Werod was impossible, so the Chosen One simply sealed him along with all his demonic creatures," Elhias explained."But not the Ucrie.""The Ucrie were now powerless and no longer posed a
AthelstanAthelstan's chambers were dark when he entered with a servant in his ribs. While Athelstan took off his belt with his sword and rested it on the wooden table, the boy moved silently from one side of the room to the other, quickly lighting candles placed throughout the large space.After finishing with the candles and lighting the room thanks to them, the servant took leave leaving him alone.Huffing, Athelstan took off his tunic from above his head, remaining with his chest uncovered, sat down in the chair and poured some wine into the cup, emptying it immediately afterwards with a single sip.He raised his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. In a few days he would come face to face with Nathan Fannil and would have to swallow all the resentment and hatred that would certainly fill him. Pretend nothing, perhaps pulling out one of his brightest smiles, trying to control the impulse th
Victoria opened her lips and Athelstan slipped his tongue into it, beginning to make her play with his as he placed his hands on the girl's hips and pushed her towards the bed. Meanwhile, Victoria ran her hands over his bare chest until she reached the laces of his pants which she began to untie frantically.Arriving near the bed, Athelstan pulled his mouth off hers and made her turn her back. He moved her hair to the side and lowered the tiny shoulder strap of her dress, as he bent down to kiss her bare collarbone, unfastening her bodice with his fingers.Victoria reached out and dipped her fingers into Athelstan's red hair as he continued to lick and suck the bare skin of her neck.When he finally finished with the last lace, the dress loosened and Athelstan slid it down from her body, slowly stroking with his palms the skin that was gradually freed from the light fabric. His mouth continued his fiery battle with the skin of her neck, kissing and sucking
The Old Man«Brr, such a cold», he whispered in the dark, rubbing his hands against each other, trying to warm them. He blew gently over it, hoping that his warm breath might give him some comfort, but nothing could prevent the cold of that autumn night from entering under his skin and reaching his bones.He was so cold he couldn’t walk. His legs began to fail because of his age, as he was no longer the young man he once was.The streets of the lower town were deserted, while the men were locked in the taverns between the pleasures of alcohol and the good company of some prostitute who would pay at the end of the night. In the distance, he could see the lights on above the walls, inside which had been built Sierra, the capital of the kingdom of Haefest. The latter was dominated by Urian Fannil, the place he had dreamed of seeing since he was a child. He was finally there, in the city of red leaves.It was so-called because, throughout the year, the streets were covered with red leaves
The Dark Man“What? You don’t like the sight of blood?”.The man looked at the hand in which he still held the old man’s heart, held it tightly, then, puffing, threw it next to the defenceless body and finally cleansed himself of the blood on the rags worn by the old man.“You made quite a mess of it,” he said, looking around. The killing that just happened had given him a thrill of emotion that had immediately dozed off.That’s what always happened. At first, when you are young and impudent, hunting, death, and feeling that you can be masters of someone else’s destiny, they always give a thrill of excitement that is difficult to doze off. Over time, the killing and deaths that a person caused became ordinary, a kind of habit.They no longer had the effect of the first time; he no longer felt the blame; they passed as when you cross a river through a bridge every day. At first, we stop to observe the stream, fascinated by the greatness of the mother; then, with time, we begin to look