After a month of riding, Damien arrived at the edge of the Vast Sea, where his next quest
was to take place. The only problem was that he found himself facing this expanse of water
without seeing any towns or castles. Perhaps this was due to incorrect information. The
partridge could well have led him astray. Nevertheless, the hunter had passed a village
when he was near the cliffs. Rain had slowly begun to fall, so he hurried to reach the
village.
He entered the village of Douce Saison soaked to the skin. The main street was
deserted, water was streaming everywhere, and the gutters were clogged. He quickly
reached the town center. Two inns stood side by side. One had faded stone walls and a
damaged door. Almost no sound came from it, as if it had been abandoned.
The only difference was the adjacent cottage. It looked brand new with its large windows
and wrought iron entrance. The music and laughter coming from inside were signs of a
welcoming home. Although usually cautious, and perhaps due to fatigue, he made his
choice hastily. He headed towards the bustling inn, but was stopped in his tracks by a small
figure he knew well. Alaën's waterlogged fur blocked Damien's path. Every time the man
took a step forward, the fox wizard took a step back. This game continued until Alaën,
annoyed, declared:
— Not here, you'll come to a bad end.
Damien ignored the fox's warning and walked past him, as if he were under a spell. Alaën
sighed anxiously before running past the hunter and stopping in front of him.
— Not this way, I said.
Damien, who had wanted to take gentle revenge for not listening to his thanks last time,
stopped for good this time. This fox—or perhaps this person, you never know—seems very
interesting to me, he thought amusedly.
— All right, I'll stop teasing you, Mr. Fox. And thank you. For the last time, I mean.
Alaën snorted:
— No need. I had to do it. Humpf! See what I'll do to you if you do it again!
He thought, agitated. He hasn't changed, he concluded inwardly.
Damien chuckled when he noticed the feigned annoyance in his interlocutor's tone. Then he
knelt down and asked:
— Well, Mr. Fox, how about coming with me? It's not that I hate the rain, but you know
what? I hope I can finally sleep in the warmth, he finished, spreading his arms.
Alaën, delighted with this proposal, rushed towards his long-time beloved. — Who didn't
know it yet — . The latter caught up with him and embraced him warmly.
Damien turned toward the inn, which looked decrepit, and knocked on the door. He was
given a room in exchange for a few coins. He entered, still accompanied by Alaën. The fox
wizard jumped out of the hunter's arms, shook himself off, and settled down by the hearth.
Then he fell asleep. Damien headed for the bed, took off his shoes and clothes, and slipped
under the covers. When he was sure his prince was fast asleep, Alaën dried his fur with a
brush of his paw and made his way to his beloved's bed.
Then midnight struck, and Alaën was immediately freed from his curse.
As you know, dear reader, midnight is the hour when spells and enchantments are broken.
So it only makes sense. Let's continue.
Now in human form, and although he longed to lie down beside him, Alaën floated toward
the hunter to get a closer look at the face of his beloved.
The memories flew away.
The first was when he had met Damien as a child, when he himself was just a kid. That was
his first memory.
The second was when Damien, still crown prince of the kingdom of Twilight, abdicated in
favor of his younger brother. Alaën had just won the bet he had made with the partridge.
When she decided to stab him in the back, irritated at having lost—being the sore loser that
she was. Left for dead and transformed against his will into an animal form he hated, he had
been saved by his former playmate. He wanted to repay him for his kindness.
The sorcerer gazed at Damien tenderly. His pale skin, despite his work and adventures,
complemented his beard and long black hair beautifully. There was a certain masculine
charm and heroic appeal that emanated from his features. More than his physical
appearance, it was his personality that he loved above all else.
He sighed dreamily:
"I hope that one day he will be able to meet me in human form, and then I will be able to...
hehe... Alaën, pull yourself together!
His prince was beginning to wake up, he could feel it. So he escaped through the window.
He knew full well that if he saw him in human form, he would look suspicious.
What the cunning fox hadn't anticipated was that Damien had woken up and was
pretending to be asleep. He hadn't opened his eyes because he was afraid of scaring the
fox wizard. All he saw was a beautiful brown back, despite the lack of light.
They set off again at dawn and headed for the cliffs near the Vast Sea. A storm broke out
as they approached the beach. Sheltered by the rocks, they waited. Bored, Alaën
introduced himself:
— "I am Alaën," began the fox wizard. "And you?" he asked, even though he already knew.
He wondered how it would feel to hear his lips pronounce his name.
— Damien, he replied before falling silent. Then he continued, "It's a beautiful name, Alaën."
Alaën blushed. Ah, it sounded so good in his mouth, he sighed contentedly.
— Ah! The sun has come back out, he exclaimed happily.
Damien couldn't help but smile at the fox's cheerfulness. He stroked Alaën's bushy head with
satisfaction, and Alaën began to hum.
The light warmed them as, behind the clouds, the imposing walls of a city emerged, with a
magnificent castle at its center.
The water parted, and Damien, holding Alaën in his arms, headed toward the city gate.
They left the horse behind.
At the entrance, the hunter was given a mask, which he put on and tied, hiding his face.
Indeed, there was one rule: all males had to wear a mask. "Wear a mask or your soul will be
stolen" was the motto of the Golden City.
They crossed paths with a young girl with red hair. She seemed lost in thought.
— Can I help you? asked Damien. Damien at your service... he introduced himself.
As for Alaën in his arms, she had closed her eyes, relaxed.
— Sinéah, she replied curtly. And to answer your question... I was waiting for you. You see,
I'm organizing a party at dusk, and I'm short a guard. And from what I can see, she looked
him up and down, you're just the man I need.
Damien thought: Well, that's interesting.
— However, I don't think you need me at all, continued the hunter, pointing to the long
sword hanging from the young woman's waist.
— Strangely enough, I don't think I have to answer your question, replied Sinéah
haughtily. Follow me.
The second quest is off to a good start, thought the former prince, annoyed by the tone.
They walked through the bustling streets. They arrived in front of a gray building and entered
it. They were led into a room with closed windows. Sinéah clapped her hands and two maids
entered.
— "Serve him and make sure he is properly dressed," she ordered before leaving.
Damien was washed and dressed. Then he was taken to a dining room and left in front of a
huge table laden with several dishes.
— "Are you going to be able to eat all that?" asked Alaën, intrigued.
— What do you think, hm?
Alaën hesitated:
— I don't know?
Damien chuckled at the fox's bewildered look, before declaring:
— Well, Mr. Fox, I'm not alone in the room, am I?
— Ah.
Then Alaën continued in a silly but endearing tone:
— That's true... Carry me, he finished in a spoiled tone.
— Very well.
Damien grabbed him and placed him on the table. The hunter had only known him for a short
time, but found this little companion captivating. Especially his violet eyes. And then a fox
that turns into a human—or vice versa? Very interesting.
Damien and Alaën were led into a reception hall where the party was in full swing as night
fell. As soon as they entered the room, bloody revelry accompanied by soft music began.
The cheerful atmosphere turned into a huge bloodbath. Heads were severed, leaving scarlet
liquid flowing freely. Cut arms and shredded bodies covered the room in crimson red. And
the instigator of this whole masquerade was Sinéah herself.
Alaën leapt in front of Damien and growled at the woman with fiery hair. She easily dodged
several daggers aimed at her. After thwarting and killing all her attackers, her gaze was
drawn to the small protector in front of the hunter. The warrior sneered at the difference in
size. Without a hint of fear, Damien pushed past his defender and stood face to face with
his opponent. Without turning around, he said to Alaën behind him:
— Leave it to me, Alaën.
Then, turning to his opponent, standing firmly on both legs, his short sword in hand, Damien
said:
— Fight me.
Raising an eyebrow, Sinéah nodded:
— Fine.
She immediately took up her position and waited. Neither of them moved, then, with limbs
tense and sword drawn, the hunter lunged at Sinéah. The blades clashed, metal screeching.
Under the weight, the warrior was knocked back a few steps. The battle that ensued was
fierce. Neither gave the other any room to maneuver. Damien even drew his dagger,
slashing Sinéah's face. He himself was struck on the arm, then on the leg. The fight was
destructive, and that was the end. The room, once full of people and joyfully decorated for
the occasion, was washed clean of all traces of blood and bodies, the walls receded, giving
way to ivy and plants.
The magic had died along with Sinéah's life. Her body lay on the floor. Out of respect,
Damien had closed the young woman's eyes and placed her in a respectful position.
But apart from that, Damien felt nothing. Not even sadness. Since the first quest, Alaën had
noticed that Damien was determined not to show any emotion. Except when he spoke to
him, Damien smiled easily. It made him want to amuse him even more. That would be his
next mission, humph!
They learned the whole story when Sinéah died. Let me tell it to you.
There was a father who loved his daughter more than anything else. He loved her so much
that when he learned of her passion for the sea, he built a city and a sumptuous castle next
to the ocean cliffs. This city was named Nether... At least, that's what they wanted people to
believe.
Gérald, Ronan, and Jean. Those were their names.
The Golden City was indeed called Nether, but the reason behind its construction was a
woman named Sinéah. Sinéah the redhead, Sinéah the warrior. She alone held the keys that
controlled the opening of Nether.
Gérald, Sinéah's father, was king. That didn't stop him from being jealous of his child, who
had great powers thanks to her mother. Sinéah, on the other hand, loved the sea. And it
was only fate that she fell in love with Ophélie.
Ophelia was a young girl who had found refuge in the city of Nether. Ophelia was a witch of
the bitter waves, who loved Sinéah in return. Together they established a single rule: every
man entering the city must wear a mask.
A celebration was held at every sunset. At dawn, some of these people were thrown off the
cliffs. Why? Because they had sinned.
The keys to the city of Nether had the power to see into people's souls. That is how several
individuals, guilty of all forms of violence against women, had been massacred. Gerald's
misleading account told that Sinéah had fallen in love with these young men. Infatuated?
Nonsense! But one unfortunate day put an end to it all.
Do you remember the three men? Allow me to introduce them to you.
Gérald, the jealous and absent father; Ronan, the fraudulent and self-proclaimed saint; and
Jean, his closest advisor, a deceitful man as venomous as a basilisk. These three individuals, upon discovering Ophelia's love for Sinéah, learned the reason behind the
deaths of several men and formed a plan. It wasn't long before it came to fruition.
One day, Sinéah lost the keys to Nether. They ended up in the hands of Gérald and his
acolytes. One evening, they opened the city's floodgates.
The city was submerged by the waves of the Vast Sea. Sinéah and Ophelia fled on
horseback, but were soon caught up. Jean, the man with a heart of stone, ordered Sinéah to
abandon Ophelia to the sea. She refused. Who would want to kill their beloved? So they
looked at each other for a moment, tears in their eyes, embraced, kissed, and then, in a final
burst of courage, threw themselves into the dangerous waters.
Ophélie, witch of the ocean, transformed her wife into a mermaid and they disappeared
beneath the waves. With them, she engulfed the Golden City, Nether. As for the three evil
men, they drowned without being able to be reincarnated. Even in the afterlife, hell awaited
them.
Sinéah's ghostly silhouette emerged from her body and declared:
— They all said she was a demon! But Ophelia was the woman of my life! They
abandoned me to my fate! Only Ophelia healed my broken heart!
Then, with a gentle look, she said: Thank you, Damien. I can finally be reunited with my
Ophelia. Then she disappeared.
Alaën moaned sadly, overcome with emotion. Damien felt his heart beat a little faster. This
story rekindled a spark of something inside him. But not enough to change anything. Now he
was no longer alone. He would win this bet. He knew it.
He took Alaën in his arms and dried her tears. In a voice that was meant to be gentle, he
said:
— It's in the past. Let's go.
The rain had stopped as they headed toward the beach. The only souvenirs of this quest
were the clothes Damien was wearing.
Mounting the horse that had been left behind, he set off for his next and final destination,
the fox sitting comfortably in front of him.