Alistair couldn't believe he had formed such allies. Well, maybe they could be called friends, though he harbored secret apprehensions about their true motives. The world was a treacherous place, and there was still so much for him to learn and understand.
With each passing day, Alistair continued his training regimen. Under the watchful eye of Thorin, Lucius, and even Yvain, he honed his skills and pushed his body to its limits. Though his progress was slow, he gradually felt a growing sense of confidence in his abilities. Despite this, he couldn't shake a nagging feeling that there was more to the world than met the eye. Perhaps the answers he sought could be found amidst the shadows that lurked beyond the horizon.
Over the course of several weeks, Alistair's skills showed significant improvement. His movements grew more fluid and precise, and his strikes more powerful. The hours of training, guided by the watchful eyes of Thorin, Lucius, and even Yvain, seemed to have paid off. While he still had much to learn, the progress he made was undeniable.
Lucius flashed a small smile, his voice tinged with genuine approval. "You did great," he praised, his tone sincere. "You're a fast learner, you know. You've only been training with a sword for a few weeks now, and look at you - you're already showing a lot of potential."
Alistair glanced up at the sky, taking note of the deepening shadows that stretched across the horizon. The sun had nearly set, casting the woods in a dusky hue. Turning to the others, he spoke up, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Hey, guys," he began, "it's getting late. Shouldn't we set up a fire now?"
Lucius and Alistair busied themselves gathering firewood nearby, chatting amicably as they collected dry branches and twigs. Meanwhile, Yvain took advantage of their distraction to slip away, disappearing into the surrounding trees with a stealthy swiftness.
Thorin, noticing Yvain's stealthy disappearance, raised an eyebrow in suspicion. His gaze lingered on the spot where Yvain had disappeared, before his own curiosity got the better of him. Silently and quickly, he set his collected firewood aside and quietly followed the path Yvain had taken.
In the middle of the night, Yvain made his way to a nearby lake. The silvery glow of the moon shone down upon the still water, creating a serene and peaceful atmosphere. Fireflies flitted about in the darkness, their soft glow adding to the magical ambiance of the surroundings. Yvain took a seat on the bank of the lake, his gaze fixed on the shimmering surface of the water as he allowed his thoughts to drift.
The peaceful silence of the night was shattered as Yvain suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the still air. "Stop hiding, Thorin," he called out, his tone tinged with mild irritation. "I know you followed me here."
There was a moment of tense silence, before Thorin stepped out from behind a nearby tree, emerging into the silver moonlight. He met Yvain's gaze, his expression stoic and unyielding. "You're observant," Thorin replied simply, his voice betraying no emotion.
A knowing smile played at the corners of Yvain's lips as he spoke, his tone tinged with a hint of satisfaction. "Did you hear the news? There's a rumor that a wizard survived back at Glacirien," he shared, his smirk growing wider.
Thorin's expression grew dark and menacing as he swiftly drew his weapon, the blade of the sword glinting in the pale moonlight. He pointed the tip of the weapon directly at Yvain's neck, his eyes filled with lethal intent. "So you know that Alistair is the last wizard," he growled, his tone dripping with a warning. "Try to touch or hurt him, and you'll die by my hand, I swear it."
Yvain's smirk widened into a smirk as he spoke, his tone dripping with mockery. "Ah, don't worry, I don't intend to hurt him," he taunted, his voice taking on a sardonic edge. "But I do wonder, what makes Alistair so special to you? You know you're betraying King Ragnar, your own father, right?"
Yvain's smirk faltered slightly as he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "You do know what our majesty can do if you defy him," he warned, his tone growing a little more serious. "I'm just disappointed that you would protect Alistair over your own kingdom."
Thorin's grip on his sword loosened slightly as he spoke, his gaze fixed on Yvain with unyielding intensity. "Alistair is different," he stated firmly. "He's not a threat in this world. When he and I first met, he had been so nice to me, despite all the mean things I said and did. He never insulted me or anyone in return, and he never tried to get back at anyone who had hurt him. He's special to me because he's the only person I can trust, because I don't trust anyone else."
Yvain's smirk grew wider at Thorin's words, his tone taking on a condescending edge. "Even so... No one would care about what you think," he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "They'll just listen to the one who manipulated them, the one who holds the throne. You're just a pawn in your own father's game."
Yvain's smirk grew even more cruel as he continued, his voice dripping with sinister satisfaction. "You can't protect Alistair at every moment or forever," he taunted, his tone harsh and unyielding. "One day, you'll be too late to save him. And when that day comes, there's nothing you can do to help him, Thorin."
Thorin gritted his teeth, the blade of his sword lowering slightly as his muscles tensed beneath his armor. His eyes never strayed from Yvain's smug face, his gaze filled with a mix of anger and resignation.
Lucius stumbled upon the tense scene before him, the tension in the air palpable. He let out a gruff sigh, his voice breaking through the silence. "Hey, Alistair's been looking for you two. Let's go eat before the fish gets cold," he called out, his tone casual but with a hint of concern.
Thorin and Yvain exchanged one last charged look before sheathing their weapons and walking back in silence, their conversation abruptly cut short by Lucius's arrival.
Alistair stood up, holding two freshly cooked fish in his hand, and approached Thorin and Yvain. "You two must be hungry!" he said with a warm smile, holding out the fish towards the two men.
Thorin's gaze softened as he looked at the young boy before him, his voice firm with determination. "Alistair..." he began, his voice filled with a mixture of resolve and affection. "No matter what happens, I'll protect you. I promise."
Alistair couldn't help but chuckle at Thorin's words, his youthful innocence shining through. "Why are you saying that suddenly?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's not like anyone would try to kill me, right?"
Alistair's expression brightened with excitement as he posed the question, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Stop worrying about me," he urged, his youthful optimism shining through. "Let's go to the Floxglade tomorrow! "
***
Alistair rubbed his eyes, woken from his slumber by a sense of unease. He sat up, his gaze sweeping over the campsite, taking in the shadows cast by the dying fire. He realized with a start that Yvain was nowhere to be seen.
Alistair quietly stood up from his resting place, careful not to disturb the sleeping forms of Thorin and Lucius. A feeling of unease settled in his gut, and he knew he had to find Yvain, even if it meant venturing off alone into the darkness of the night.
He silently made his way into the dark woods, his footsteps treading lightly over the twigs and branches that littered the forest floor. His eyes strained to adjust to the dim light, trying to make out any signs of movement or indication of Yvain's whereabouts.
He cautiously moved forward, his senses on high alert, straining to pick up any sound or disturbance that might indicate which direction Yvain had gone. The forest seemed eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind or the distant hoots of an owl.
As Alistair ventured deeper into the woods, he finally spotted Yvain standing in front of a flat rock table, his gaze fixated on the surface. Intrigued, Alistair approached quietly, his footsteps soft on the ground, and came to a stop just a few feet away. Yvain's hands moved methodically, carefully placing small pieces of rocks on the makeshift table-like formation.
Alistair stepped forward, his voice breaking the silence. "Yvain?" he called out softly, curiosity evident in his tone. "What are you doing here?"
Yvain didn't break his gaze from the makeshift table he was working on, his hands still carefully placing rocks on the surface. "I'm doing something traditional," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. "In Floxglade, we have a tradition involving rocks."
Alistair stepped closer, his interest piqued as he approached the table. "A tradition involving rocks?" he repeated, his tone curious. "What do you mean?"
Yvain continued to work on the rock formation, his hands moving with precision. "In Floxglade, we believe that rocks hold power," he explained. "When placed in a specific pattern, they can bring good fortune or even reveal secrets of the future."
Alistair's eyebrows furled, his curiosity growing stronger. "Really?" he asked, his eyes tracing the shape of the rock structure Yvain was creating. "These rocks can do all that?"
Yvain nodded, not tearing his gaze away from the forming rock pattern. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice tinged with a sense of conviction. "Rocks have a unique energy, and when arranged in a certain way, they can channel the natural energy of the world, making them conduits for divination and prophecies."
Yvain paused in his work, his gaze finally shifting from the rocks to Alistair's face. "Have you heard of Sunstone power?" he asked, his tone taking on a slightly more serious note. "Some people say it's real, but others dismiss it as a myth."
Alistair's expression turned thoughtful, his interest piqued by Yvain's question. "No, I haven't heard of it," he admitted, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "What is this Sunstone power you speak of?"
Yvain's tone held a hint of reverence as he spoke, his gaze returning to the rock formation he was creating. "It's an powerful magical artifact, created by the strongest wizard in the world," he explained, his voice filled with awe. "He is known as Eldron, and his mastery over magic is legendary. The Sunstone is said to hold extraordinary power, capable of altering reality itself."
Alistair froze, his mind racing as he absorbed the name Yvain had just spoken. "My father made that thing" he thought, a wave of shock and wonder washing over him.
Despite the surprise he felt at Yvain's revelation, Alistair managed to maintain composure. "So, what does this Sunstone do?" he inquired curiously, eager to learn more about the famed magical artifact his father had created.
Yvain's expression grew even more serious as he answered Alistair's question. "The Sunstone is capable of manipulating energy on a metaphysical level," he explained, his voice tinged with awe. "It can channel raw magical energy and reshape it to the user's will. It's said that even the gods themselves fear the power of the Sunstone."
Yvain's gaze remained fixed on the rock formation before him, his hands continuing to arrange the rocks with calculated precision. "It's true that the Sunstone has never been found," he confirmed. "Many believe it to be a mere myth, a legend without foundation. But I've read about it in a book in the library. There are countless things that this Sunstone is said to be capable of, including altering reality, creating life, and even defying the laws of magic itself."
Despite the intrigue and awe he felt, a sense of caution crept into Alistair's words. "That sounds incredibly powerful," he remarked, his voice tinged with concern. "Shouldn't more people work to prevent anyone from finding this Sunstone? It seems like something that could bring about unimaginable consequences if it fell into the wrong hands."
Yvain's expression turned solemn, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "Unfortunately, that's how humans tend to be," he acknowledged. "We're naturally drawn to power and the desire to control. Even if the Sunstone poses unimaginable risks, humans will still be driven by their own greed and ambition to possess it, in an attempt to assert their dominance over others."
Yvain finally stopped working on the rock formation and turned his attention to Alistair, patting him gently on the head. "Come on, let's head back to our friends and get some rest," he suggested, his voice softer now.
Yvain's expression remained resolute as he spoke, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of hope. "Magic isn't dead yet," he stated emphatically. "There are still people who utilize tools enchanted by wizards, proof that magic still flows through the world in certain ways."
Alistair's interest peaked, his curiosity bubbling to the surface. "Wait, wait," he interjected, his voice tinged with intrigue. "Did you say 'enchantment used for tools?!'"
Yvain nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he affirmed, his voice taking on a slight tone of pride. "Enchantment can be used to imbue objects with magical properties. This is why magical artifacts and tools exist."
Yvain nodded, confirming Alistair's suspicions. "Exactly," he affirmed, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Even though wizards are gone, enchanted swords still exist. Wizards would often infuse their own magic into their swords before their extinction. That's why there are still enchanted swords in circulation."
Alistair's curiosity piqued further as he listened intently, his mind eager to unravel the mystery. "Hold on, how does that work?" he inquired, his voice tinged with fascination. "How do these enchanted swords continue to circulate?"
Yvain smirked, a glint of knowledge in his eyes. "Ah, that's an interesting question," he mused, his voice taking on a slight tone of superiority. "You see, enchanted swords can be passed down through generations, handed down from one wielder to the next. Sometimes, they're traded or even stolen, making them circulate within communities for centuries."
Alistair raised an eyebrow, "How did you know all of this?"
Yvain chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've spent a lot of time reading about it in our library," he explained, his tone tinged with pride. "I've studied the history of enchanted swords and their circulation, so I'm quite knowledgeable about the subject."
Yvain's smirk widened, an air of certainty in his voice. "In addition, some libraries didn't ban the books written by wizards," he added, a hint of defiance in his words. "These books often contain valuable information about magic, including the creation and circulation of enchanted swords. So that's how I learned about it."
Alistair's eyes widened in surprise, as he contemplated Yvain's words. "Wait, hold on a minute," he protested, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and skepticism. "Only the library in Glacirien is known to possess those kind of books. Unless you..." His voice trailed off, the implications of his words slowly dawning upon him.
Alistair's voice grew quieter as the realization settled in. "You... you're a wizard...?" he whispered, a note of awe and caution in his voice.
Yvain quickly dismissed Alistair's suspicion, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. "Don't be ridiculous," he replied, his tone playful. "Why would I have any magic powers? I'm not a wizard, you dolt. Let's just head back and get some sleep already."
Alistair's expression softened, his doubts momentarily easing. "I guess you're right..." he said, a tinge of uncertainty still lingering in his voice. "We should probably get some rest."
As Alistair and Yvain approached the spot where Thorin and Lucius were sleeping, they found Thorin wide awake, his gaze fixed on Yvain with an intensity that was hard to miss. Yvain smirked slightly, noticing Thorin's gaze as they approached. "Awake, are you?" he taunted, his manner still nonchalant.
Thorin's gaze didn't waver as he spoke, his voice firm and authoritative. "Alistair," he called out, beckoning the young boy to come closer.
Alistair exchanged a brief look with Yvain before complying with Thorin's command, a small thread of unease settling in his gut. He made his way over to Thorin's side, his footsteps cautious and silent.
Thorin's intense gaze flicked over Alistair as the young boy approached, his expression shifting from stern to concerned. He took a moment to study Alistair's features, as if searching for signs of distress or discomfort.
Thorin's voice was firm and unyielding as he issued the command. "Sleep now," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for protest.
Thorin's steps were determined and purposeful as he approached Yvain, his voice carrying a clear warning. "Whatever you're planning, stop it now," he growled, his gaze fixated on Yvain with an intensity that demanded attention. "If you harm Alistair in any way, I swear I won't let you live to regret it."
Yvain chuckled softly, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Oh, okay, Alistair's sweet pea~"
Alistair's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink at Yvain's comment, his heart skipping a beat. He averted his gaze momentarily, trying to conceal the effect Yvain's words had on him.
Alistair's voice was tinged with a hint of exhaustion and a touch of embarrassment, "Let's just go to sleep," he suggested, his words carrying a slight plead.
***
The next morning, they continued their journey to the Floxglade. The sky was streaked with hues of blue and gold as the sun rose on the horizon. The landscape was a fusion of natural beauty and rugged terrain, offering both breathtaking views and challenges along the way.
Yvain's gaze lingered on the landscape, his expression growing a hint more serious as he spoke. "We're nearing the Floxglade now," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and caution.
Yvain's smirk widened into a mischievous grin as he eyed Alistair, his tone holding a hint of playful teasing. "Once we reach the Floxglade, I'll introduce you to lots of girls there, Alistair~"
Alistair felt his cheeks grow warm as he caught the implication of Yvain's words, his awkwardness and inexperience in dealing with girls coming to the forefront of his thoughts. "I... I'm not good with girls," he muttered, his voice laced with a mix of embarrassment and honesty.
Yvain chuckled gently at Alistair's admission, his expression a mixture of amusement and understanding. "Oh, don't worry about it," he reassured, his tone a bit more soft. "I'll be there to help you talk to girls, don't worry."
Lucius glanced at Thorin, noticing the darkening expression on his face. He leaned in, a sly smirk playing on his lips, and delivered a playful jab, "Hey, kid, I know you're jealous because your sweet pea is over there talking with Yvain."
Thorin responded, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness, "He's not my sweet pea. I'm just a bit... Overprotective, you know? He's more like a younger brother to me..."
Lucius's expression grew serious as he spoke, his instincts nagging at him with a foreboding sense of unease. "I have a bad feeling about this. Something feels off about going to the Floxglade," he admitted, his brow furrowing with concern.
Lucius's gaze scanned the surrounding area, his senses on high alert. "I can't shake this feeling that someone's watching us... Watching us from afar," he murmured, his words tinged with a tinge of paranoia.
As they approached the gates of the Floxglade, Lucius's keen eyes caught sight of an unusual sight—a knight rushing away and disappearing into the distance, followed by a peculiar guard ducking out of sight. Lucius's senses heightened, his instincts flaring in warning. "Something's wrong," he whispered, his voice growing more urgent. "Not only did the knight notice the gate, but I spotted a guard hiding as well. We need to tread cautiously."
In a swift and practiced motion, Lucius dodged an incoming arrow, his reflexes honed from years of experience. A smirk spread across his face as he realized his instincts had been correct. "I knew it," he affirmed, his voice steady and confident.
In a swift and unexpected move, Yvain quickly knocked out Alistair, rendering him unconscious. With a smirk, Yvain effortlessly picked up the unconscious Alistair, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Chuckling softly, he then proceeded to swiftly close the gate, effectively locking them inside the Floxglade.
Thorin's anger flared as he witnessed Yvain's sudden attack on Alistair. His instincts had told him from the beginning not to trust Yvain, and now his suspicions seemed validated. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, a mixture of rage and determination etched across his face.
Lucius locked eyes with Thorin, his expression serious but resolute. "Got it. I'll handle these guards. You go after Yvain!" he instructed, his voice gruff but urgent.
Without waiting for a response, Thorin nodded curtly and took off, his attention focused on pursuing Yvain. Meanwhile, Lucius turned his attention toward the surprised guards, preparing to face the challenge ahead.
As Yvain glanced over his shoulder, he spotted Thorin closing in on him, his face set in determination. Without hesitation, Yvain quickly rummaged through his belongings, extracting a small vial filled with a mysterious liquid.
With a sly smirk, Yvain uncorked the vial, the potent liquid sloshing inside. He chuckled sinisterly, his gaze locked on Thorin. "You're a bit of a nuisance, aren't you?" He raised the vial to his lips, his intentions clear.
Thorin's gaze widened in panic as he frantically scanned the area, only to find Yvain had vanished into thin air. "No!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty space. The realization hit him hard—Yvain had used the potion to disappear, leaving no trace behind.
***
King Ragnar striding quickly through the castle corridor, his expression stern and commanding. A knight hurriedly approached him, a hint of smug satisfaction on his face. "My liege," he addressed, his tone carrying a note of satisfaction, "Prince Yvain has successfully captured the wizard."
The king raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and interest. "Is that so?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on the knight. "Prince Yvain captured the wizard, you say? How did he manage that?"
With a sense of urgency, the king replied, "Forget my question. We need to go to Floxglade." Ragnar abruptly turned on his heel, striding down the corridor with a purpose in his steps.
***
As Alistair slowly regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open, he found himself sitting in a chair, his wrists bound by binds. The realization of his predicament washed over him, confusion and fear mixing in his mind.
Yvain chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on Alistair. "Ah, how naive you are," he taunted, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Did you truly believe I'd be your newfound friend?"
Alistair's voice trembled as he looked at Yvain, confusion and fear warring within him. "Why... Why are you doing this?" he managed to ask, his words barely above a whisper.
Yvain's smirk widened at Alistair's question, his gaze almost mocking. "Why? Well, isn't it obvious?" he replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "You're here as a means to an end, my dear Alistair."
Yvain's words carried a sinister edge as he leaned closer to Alistair, his expression almost amused. "Oh, yes," he confirmed, his tone taking on a malicious satisfaction. "Once we're done here, Thorin and Lucius will face the consequences of their so-called protection and treachery. They'll pay for betraying the king and defying the rules."
As Yvain spoke about Thorin and Lucius facing execution, Alistair's yellow eyes began to glow brighter, a mix of anger and defiance surging through him. The mention of his friends' impending fate ignited a primal protectiveness within him, his gaze hardening as he struggled against his bonds.
Alistair's eyes flared with a dangerous intensity as he locked gazes with Yvain. His voice was low and menacing as he warned, "Don't underestimate me. If you hurt them, I'll make sure you pay with your own life."
Yvain's expression remained cool and unwavering, his arrogance plain to see. "You think I'm scared?" he retorted, his voice dripping with bravado. "I don't. You see, I'm a wizard as well."
Alistair's eyes widened in shocked surprise at Yvain's revelation. The realization of Yvain's magical abilities struck him like a bolt of lightning, adding a new layer of complexity to the situation.