The tower trembled again but a beast managed to fly through the hole already existing in the wall and landed in front of Leïlana. The mage was no warrior and she tried to shelter at first but the beast was powerful and smart, hiding was meaningless. Leïlana took the first wooden stick she saw and placed it in front of her like a sword to defend herself. It was supposed to be easy, after all, she saw Jäwell doing it all the time.
The creature was a kind of bird, it had two powerful legs with hooks, its body was little and muscular, its neck was long and it had a sharp beak on its little round head.
It spread 2 tremendous wings with claws all the long. Leïlana was calculating her chances of survival but they were not big. If she wanted to cast a spell, the beast would interrupt her in the middle. She had nothing in memory that was fast enough with her actual forces especially being weakened after using the orb so many times.
Suddenly, she saw him. He seemed like he was flying out of the shadows. She only saw his enlightening smile at first, like a phare in the darkness. Then she admired the shiny reflection of his sword, the blade sliced the creature with no difficulties. It tried to fight back but it had no chances. In a few moves, the creature was on the floor bleeding to death. Leïlana observed and realized that her savior was nobody else than Jäwell.
The handsome man was very different from the last time she had seen him as if the black veil of rage had left him. After recognizing Jäwell, she wondered how long she had been gone. He turned to her once the beast was dead.
"What happened? Why are you alone here?" He said questioningly.
It seemed to her that she had been away for a few weeks only. She had no idea whether Zarkhaïm had found Miroïr if he had returned before her. Leïlana began to cry as she recounted everything that had happened.
"I... I tried to use the orb to find Miroïr. There was an accident and all the other mages died. Zarkhaïm ordered me to use the orb again, we located Miroïr and left me alone. I was swept away by the tower. Has Miroïr been found?"
Jäwell had wide-opened eyes while listening to her. She spoke so nervously that she barely took the time to breathe.
"Zarkhaïm didn't come back, he left when you disappeared. Nobody returned except you and I was hoping that you knew something."
Leïlana lowered her head sadly. Even if she was truly terrified by Zarkhaïm, Miroïr was her mentor and she had a deep affection for him. She was hoping he would have returned to safety by the time she found her way back home.
"Miroïr was being tortured in a golden prison. That was all I could find out but it was enough for Zarkhaïm to understand. He didn't say anything to me," she added.
Jäwell placed two fingers on his forehead and breathed deeply.
"I guess he doesn't want my help. All of this is my fault after all If I didn't die on this day."
Leïlana was breath taken for a moment, it was the first time she saw the proud Jäwell having regrets. His life always has been carefree, he didn't plan things and enjoyed everything as much as he could immediately. He was the kind of person who bites life without any care of consequences ever. He never had regrets and lived for having none. It was disturbing for her to see him this way. She placed a hand on Jäwell's shoulder and sighed.
"Do you want to drink with me? After everything I've been through I need something strong."
Jäwell nodded and followed her into the living room. They sat together on the sofas and drank alcohol all night. Leïlana was so happy to be alive that she started to touch herself laughing. Jäwell also had things on his heart to vent, he felt responsible for Miroïr's departure and had a lot of regrets due to that.
They spent all night, and a big part of the next day, drinking and talking together.
"At first I was alone, so I started to pack the books, and change the organization of the elixirs, and then after there was this dark place," she started to explain as she became a bit tipsy quickly but Jäwell interrupted her abruptly.
"Five years have passed since you left. Zarkhaïm disappeared without saying a word to the council. They suspect I killed him after our last argument. Nobody respects me anymore, they fear me and hide. I almost can hear their teeth clacking," Jäwell sipped more of his glass. The situation affected him more than Leïlana could imagine.
"I lost my life, I lost my brother, and I lost my friend. People used to love me, to believe I was the hope of the kingdom. The prince heir to the throne. And now?" He chuckled but Leïlana could almost see tears forming in his eyes. "Now everyone hates me. Even me, I hate myself."
Jäwell used to be popular, and he needed this constant attention. This situation was insufferable to him. Since he has been transformed and let himself go into his rage on the battlefield after he revived, the population was avoiding him.
"Aren't you afraid of me and what I became?" asked Jäwell, dizzy from the wine.
Leïlana was drunk, she laughed loudly, "You should have seen me when I saw you dying. I am not afraid to see you walking now, even if you are not alive anymore, you are still the same beautiful Prince that you were."
Jäwell took her hand tenderly, in truth, Leïlana was deeply shocked after what she lived in the tower, the experience had been extremely traumatic for her and the mere fact of having returned home was enough for her. Nothing else mattered anymore. She placed her head on Jäwell's shoulders and she fell asleep on him almost immediately.
Jäwell carried her into his bedroom as he understood how much she was terrified to be alone in this tower once again. He took the time to throw an eye on the outside of the tower to examine the hole made by Zarkhaïm's wings when he left her to her fate. Jäwell felt a sharp pain as he remembered the power of these same wings on the Golden soldier when he killed him.
He went to his bedroom and slid her into the bed sheet. They were a bit dusty, he didn't need to sleep anymore and he hadn't used this bed since he returned from the front. Jäwell sat on a chair watching Leïlana's turbulent sleep.
For the first time, he felt his fangs pulsing in his mouth. Something was bewitching him and urging him to put them in her veins. He shook these thoughts away. Jäwell had incredible desires for blood and violence, it was a curse transmitted by Zarkhaïm. This was a lustful need and it was reinforced by the alcohol he drank with the mage all night but this was something he could easily control and he didn't let himself go into the temptation.
Leïlana was the only person who had spoken to him in months. People had renamed him the King of Blood and Shadows and he hated that, he was proud and fair, and he would have given anything to be the same as before. Loneliness haunted him.
On the bed, Leïlana was crying, taken into nightmares. Being trapped in Miroïr's mind and then in the tower at the mercy of the orb damaged her mind. Jäwell went to her and took her hand to reassure her. She grabbed him and he let himself fall next to her. They spent the rest of the night together in a peaceful embrace.
Jäwell's skin was cold, but for the first time since he died, he felt warmth.
He watched Leïlana all night, enjoying every precious second of peace with her while the world around him was only chaos.