Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 134: The Future Will Be Dark

The silence that had settled in the cell, heavy with both sadness and gentleness, was slowly beginning to dissipate. Elystria still held Mordred in her arms, but gradually, the warmth of this moment began to fade, replaced by something darker, deeper, emanating from the very heart of Mordred.

His tears had finally dried up, and his silent sobs had given way to a tense silence. Elystria, sensitive to every tiny change in Mordred, immediately perceived this shift in atmosphere. She felt his muscles tense slightly, his breathing becoming slower, colder, almost controlled.

With infinite delicacy, she gently released her embrace, moving back slightly to better observe Mordred’s face. Their eyes met again, but this time, Elystria clearly saw in Mordred’s eyes that icy coldness that was slowly but inexorably taking over his battered soul.

The hatred was there, once again, dark and powerful, like an inner storm ready to break out at any moment. Mordred didn’t utter a word, but Elystria immediately understood. She clearly felt this change, this gradual closing of his heart, as if the emotion he had just shared had finally awakened something even darker, even deeper within him.

She sighed slightly, aware that she could not completely soothe this rage that rumbled within him, at least not now. Mordred, sitting against the cold wall of his cell, had his eyes fixed in the distance, his gaze hard and distant.

- "I know what you’re feeling, Mordred," she finally whispered, gently breaking the silence. "But don’t let this hatred devour you entirely. It can give you the strength to fight, but if you let it control you, it will end up consuming everything within you."

Mordred said nothing, his gaze still fixed on an invisible point in the distance. Elystria, understanding that she wouldn’t get more of a reaction, then chose to change the subject.

- "I have news," she resumed in a more composed voice, almost detached. "Important news concerning the kingdom, and especially... concerning Belgaroth."

The dragon’s name immediately had an effect on Mordred. His pupils shone with a cold and threatening light, his entire body tensing slightly with anger. Elystria felt this change, but she continued calmly.

- "He recently returned from a mission through a portal," she began slowly. "Apparently, his mission was accomplished, but at what cost..."

She paused, seeming to hesitate on how to announce what she was going to say. Finally, she continued, her voice becoming more grave.

- "He returned in critical condition, almost half dead. He lost a large part of his power, his pride... and above all, he lost his slave. Akane died during the mission."

At these words, Mordred felt his heart clench brutally in his chest. Even though he already knew this terrible truth, hearing it again was an additional torture. But he remained motionless, without reacting openly, his face remaining frozen in that icy expression.

- "Belgaroth was publicly humiliated," continued Elystria, an almost involuntary hint of satisfaction piercing in her voice. "The draconic nobility showed him no mercy. He was the object of much mockery, and his honor is now tainted by this bitter failure."

She paused, observing Mordred carefully to measure his reaction. He remained silent, but the hatred burning within him had become almost palpable, like an intense cold that now radiated around him.

- "In his anger, Belgaroth swore vengeance before the royal court," she added slowly, measuring each word. "He asked the king personally to let him participate on the front lines during the upcoming invasion. He thinks it will be the only way to restore his tarnished honor."

At these words, Mordred slowly raised his head, his eyes fixing Elystria with an icy intensity.

- "He wants to be on the front lines..." he finally murmured, his voice rough and low. "Well, then... let him be there. There’s no better place to die."

His tone was calm, cold, merciless. Elystria felt a slight worry rise within her, perceiving how close Mordred now was to a point of no return. She moved slightly closer, trying one last time to bring him back to a more peaceful emotion.

- "Mordred, you must be careful," she whispered softly. "Your hatred can give you strength, but it can also destroy you. Don’t let it decide for you."

Mordred, still silent, slowly turned his eyes away. His face had become impenetrable again, but behind this apparent coldness, Elystria felt clearly that something in him had just broken definitively.

She remained silent for a moment, before slowly rising, aware that the time had come to leave him alone with his thoughts.

- "I’ll leave you, Mordred," she said softly, her voice full of sincere sadness. "But know that you are not alone. Whatever happens, I am here."

She slowly moved toward the door, her steps echoing slightly in the silent cell. But as she placed her hand on the handle, she turned one last time toward him.

- "Rest, Mordred," she whispered in a final breath. "Your true battle is yet to come."

The door closed softly behind her, leaving Mordred alone in this cold and silent darkness. His heart, now completely closed, was filled with a cold, implacable hatred that patiently waited for the moment to unleash itself.

He knew that Belgaroth would soon be on the front lines, exposed and vulnerable. And Mordred, with icy determination, already knew exactly where his place would be that day.

Facing Belgaroth, ready to make him pay for every second of suffering inflicted, every tear shed, every life destroyed.

That day, his vengeance would be terrible and absolute.

Elystria gently closed the door of the cell behind her, the light sound of the lock resonating like a funeral knell in her ears. The dark and damp corridor stretched before her, dimly lit by the flickering light of torches fixed to the walls. She remained motionless for a moment, her hand still resting against the cold door, her gaze lost in emptiness.

A deep concern had invaded her mind. Mordred’s face still haunted her thoughts, his icy gaze, his deep and palpable hatred that now escaped from him like a dark and threatening aura. Elystria closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to calm the disordered beating of her heart.

She knew, better than anyone, how important Mordred was to their world. Her mother had told her clearly, with solemn gravity: Mordred was the pivot, the decisive turning point of their kingdom’s destiny. He could become the long-awaited savior, the one who would finally bring peace and balance, or else, become the very instrument of their destruction, an implacable force that would sweep everything in its path.

And in light of what she had just seen, Elystria felt a deaf and icy fear growing in her heart. Mordred seemed dangerously close to tipping to the wrong side. The suffering he had endured, the tragic loss of Akane, the incessant tortures, all of this had forged in him a hatred so deep, so intense, that it now seemed beyond control.

She reopened her eyes, determined to quickly leave this sinister place. Her steps echoed slightly on the cold flagstones of the corridor as she silently slipped out of the dungeon, her mind still prey to this inner turmoil.

What could she do now? How could she bring Mordred back to the light, when everything in him now seemed consumed by darkness? Her heart painfully tightened in her chest at this thought. She knew she couldn’t give up, not now, not after all she had seen in him. But how to help him, how to save him from himself?

She slowly emerged from the dark basement, furtively climbing the dark and narrow stairs toward the royal palace. All around her, the shadows seemed to slowly close in, as if they reflected the darkness that was now growing in Mordred’s heart. Each step was heavy with doubt, each moment seemed to reinforce this disturbing certainty: if she didn’t quickly find a solution, their future looked terribly dark. freeweɓnøvel.com

Elystria stopped abruptly, hidden in the shadow of a massive pillar of the palace. She looked up at the night sky, where the stars shone faintly in the darkness. Her mind was racing at an alarming speed, desperately seeking a way to put Mordred back on the right path. But nothing came to her. No plan, no concrete solution. Just this deep, omnipresent fear, this terrible anguish of seeing destiny completely escape them.

She closed her eyes again, breathing slowly, trying to regain a semblance of calm despite the inner storm raging within her.

- "Mother..." she whispered inwardly, her heart tightened by sincere emotion. "You told me he would be the key to our destiny, that he could save us... but how can I guide him, when his heart is so deeply wounded, so eaten away by hatred?"

She slowly reopened her eyes, fixing the dark horizon with renewed determination. No, she couldn’t give up. Mordred needed her, even if he didn’t want to admit it, even if he was convinced that he no longer needed anyone. Elystria understood better than anyone the wounds he carried, she understood better than anyone this rage, this anger that now inhabited him.

She took a deep breath, her hands tightly clenched into fists. No matter how difficult it would be, she would find a solution. She would search in the forgotten archives, in the ancient tales, in the prophecies buried for centuries. She would find an answer, a way to bring Mordred back to the light, to avoid the catastrophe that now seemed imminent.

For if she failed, she knew their world would inexorably sink into darkness.