One could say that the rest of the night went well. Although Lucian cried a lot, he actually broke down completely. But now, at six in the morning, a new day has begun. He is awakened by the sun already strongly illuminating his face, providing a comforting sensation.
Elara, on the other hand, did not wake up as quickly as her brother, even with the sunrise. Lucian was not in the mood to get out of bed; he spent the first hours of his day lying down, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, not making a sound.
After a few minutes, Elara's eyes slowly opened, blinking against the morning light. Her face was creased from the pillow, but at least she had a good night's sleep. She yawned and stretched, her hair quite messy. She sat up in bed and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table.
After quenching her thirst, she looked at her brother. He had a vacant look, with visible dark circles under his eyes, still lying in bed. Although she didn't care much, she asked:
— Didn't sleep well? It's just dawn and you already look like a dead fish.
— Our older brother... Arthur, died.
Elara showed no reaction of shock or sadness; on the contrary, she looked at him with disdain and changed the subject. The death of her older brother really didn't affect her; in her eyes, it was no different from the death of a rat.
— These beds are surprisingly comfortable, I'm really surprised — said Elara, as she brought her hand to her mouth and yawned again.
After this brief conversation, Elara quickly got ready and went downstairs to the first floor, where the tavern was located. Arthur and Alaric were already there, with papers scattered on the table, apparently planning something.
Claro, aqui está a tradução do capítulo para o inglês, mantendo o sentido e a estrutura:
Meanwhile, Lucian went to the bathroom and stared at a large, smooth stone used as a mirror, just to see how he looked. Of course, he was never vain or anything like that; he just wanted to know if he was showing any signs. His short hair, with wavy strands, was completely messy. His dark brown eyes were a bit red and visibly tired, despite the long night. His tanned skin naturally emitted a warm glow. Quickly, he washed his face and took a deep breath, trying to force a smile. However, his lips were evidently stretched in a forced manner, and his eyes remained distant.
Feeling ready, Lucian went down to the tavern. The place, made entirely of wood, seemed so large now that it was almost completely empty. He approached a table and sat down, having the option to sit at the same table as Elara or even the knight, but he chose to sit alone.
He didn't order anything to eat, nor did he say "good morning" to the few people present. He just stared at the table with a somewhat vacant look. Elara, on the other hand, was completely the opposite. She ordered various dishes, from a variety of savory and sweet appetizers to desserts, but she didn't eat much. She was always the stingy type. To her, almost everything was dispensable. A great example of this was ordering toasted bread filled with red fruit jam, consuming only the jam, and then throwing the bread away.
***
At Arthur and Alaric's table, there were several maps, but not of the entire continent. The Kingdom of Oestázio and the Kingdom of Norby were completely excluded, indicating that the focus was on the Kingdom of Lestira, where they were currently, and the Kingdom of Suralda, where they intended to go.
They discussed in a low tone, inaudible to the children:
— I'm really running out of ideas. What are you going to do? — asked Alaric, his eyes fixed on the map.
— We are in a very cold period in the kingdom. Traveling through the mountains is completely unfeasible, and the main trade routes are very dangerous. Traveling along the coast would leave us vulnerable. I could face some knights in open field, but I couldn't guarantee the safety of Elara and Lucian — Arthur quickly replied, pointing his finger on the map, aiming at a forest.
— Don't you have any support? — he asked again.
— We are fugitives. Out of eight noble houses in the Kingdom of Lestira, only two have declared support for the twins.
— Damn, you guys are really in deep trouble — said Alaric, lowering his head over the map and closing his eyes, symbolizing surrender.
— Indeed, I'm not very proud of it, but at this moment, you are our support.
— Of course, I'm your support, but don't expect any altruistic acts if you get caught — Alaric continued, raising his head and looking directly into Arthur's eyes. — I'll simply say I've never seen you in my life.
— Well, I didn't expect much from you, believe me — Arthur gave a sarcastic smile and continued: — now use your ability.
Alaric was known in the suburbs of the Kingdom of Lestira as the "Information Fisherman." In the world, there are various types of abilities. People who strengthen their bodies, who can live underwater, or harden their skin to the point of becoming as tough as steel. However, such people are not very common.
Alaric's ability was quite different. When he became unconscious, his mind immediately went to the body of the nearest bird. He could control the bird and use his will to survey the entire area, which meant he never really had a good sleep.
— Man... I really don't like this ability. It makes me quite nauseous — complained Alaric.
— I understand, but I really need it — insisted Arthur.
— I'm not sleepy. Did you forget I need to be unconscious to use it?
Arthur didn't respond, he just smiled slightly and raised his hand, clenching his fists. Apparently, making Alaric unconscious wouldn't be a problem.
***
Arthur asked the children to go upstairs for a moment to pack their bags, choosing the tools and weapons they wanted to take. Meanwhile, Alaric was "gently" put to sleep with a punch that caused a loud bang, shaking the place.
Now unconscious due to the blow, Alaric's consciousness immediately detached from the fallen human body and was projected into the nearest bird, a crow resting on a nearby branch.
At first, Alaric didn't move, as switching bodies always caused a strange sensation, accompanied by dizziness and nausea. However, the crow's eyes quickly opened, revealing a sharp and almost supernatural clarity.
When he finally got used to it, he stretched his black, sturdy wings. He started by testing, flapping his wings a few times to feel the strength of the animal, until he finally launched himself into the air with a powerful and graceful beat.
While Alaric flew, he carefully observed the landscape below. The village was still asleep, with only a few people starting their morning routines. The surrounding forest was dense and full of life, but also full of hidden dangers.
Arthur, remaining alert, anxiously awaited the results of Alaric's reconnaissance. He knew that every moment was precious, and any information could make the difference between life and death for him and the twins.
At that moment, Elara and Lucian were in the room, carefully choosing what to take. Elara, with her usual indifference, took only the essentials, while Lucian, still overwhelmed by the loss, tried to focus on the task, but his mind kept wandering between painful memories and the weight of an uncertain future.
The receptionist, now in the form of a crow, continued his reconnaissance, surprised that his consciousness had not been transferred to a chicken.
He flew silently through the gray sky, his black wings cutting through the cold morning air. Below, the battlefield was desolate. Dismantled tents and broken stakes were scattered across the muddy ground, as if a storm had swept through the area. There was no sign of soldiers or camps, only the silent remnants of a recent fight.
As he approached the capital, he spotted the former General Igneus in a large courtyard, surrounded by nobles and guards, being formally crowned. "Damn usurper," thought Alaric, feeling a burning rage, but knowing he couldn't linger there.
He ignored the events in the capital and turned his attention to the vast swamp he had flown over before. The dark, muddy waters reflected the dull sky, and the dense vegetation hid many dangers. He flew over the twisted trees and mangroves but found nothing worth mentioning.
Following the course of a winding river, he landed briefly to drink fresh water. Despite hating to possess the body of a bird, he couldn't deny the fascinating freedom it provided; flying was an intoxicating sensation. He felt the wind against his feathers and the lightness of moving without restrictions.
Continuing his mission, Alaric spotted some knights on a dirt road. The shine of their armor and the steady rhythm of their horses indicated regular patrols. They were few, and Arthur could easily handle such an obstacle. However, when Alaric approached the villages near Arthur and the children's hideout, the situation changed drastically.
In the villages, he saw a considerable number of soldiers. They were armed and organized, moving in formations that indicated a meticulous search. The dust raised by their steps and the sound of their voices reverberated through the narrow streets, turning the villages into true occupation zones.
The crow flew over a square where soldiers gathered, tracing routes on maps and conversing in grave tones. According to the route traced by these soldiers, the village where Arthur, Lucian, and Elara were sheltered would soon receive their visit.
Alaric, still in the form of a crow, continued flying to gather more details. The landscape below him unfolded into villages, dense forests, and desolate fields. Each wingbeat felt heavier, and his crow eyes began to close involuntarily. Finally, exhaustion took over, and he returned to his original body, waking with a start as he felt someone poking his face.
— Elara was very close, looking at him with curiosity. The initial shock was followed by a sharp pain in his nose, which was purple and probably broken from Arthur's punch. Elara, not caring much about his condition, asked a series of quick questions:
— If every time you become unconscious, your mind goes to the nearest bird, when you die will you control a bird? If so, when that bird dies, will you go to another bird or finally die for real?
She was clearly fascinated by Alaric's unusual ability. It was rare to find someone with such a peculiar gift, and her curiosity was evident. Arthur had probably explained Alaric's ability to her, or she might have simply overheard the conversations.
— How would I know the answer to any question you ask? We only die once, right? — grumbled Alaric as he tried, with his left hand, to put his injured nose back in place. — If I die, and the next day a pigeon craps on your shoulder, know that I'm certainly controlling it.
***
Meanwhile, Arthur and Lucian were upstairs, packing their things. The room seemed smaller now, with every movement echoing off the wooden walls. Lucian, still overwhelmed by the news of his brother's death, picked up his things with slow, mechanical gestures, while Arthur, always attentive, organized weapons and tools with precision.
They went down together to the tavern, where the atmosphere was a bit livelier, with the sound of conversations and dishes being served. The tavern, made entirely of wood, had a rustic charm, with exposed beams on the ceiling and a central fireplace that warmed the space. The smell of fresh food and craft beer filled the air, providing a temporary sense of coziness.
Alaric, now more awake and with his nose set back in place, sat back at the planning table. Elara, with a sparkle in her eyes, watched everything with a mix of impatience and curiosity. Arthur joined them, his face serious and determined, ready to discuss the next steps.