Chapitre 31: 31. Shadow in the Black Forest
Arthur leaned back in his chair at Avalon's dining table, the cozy warmth of the room a stark contrast to the gravity of their conversation. The flickering candlelight danced across the faces of the managers gathered around him, each wearing a mix of curiosity and determination as he began to recount their recent expedition into the Black Forest.
"We found the poachers' camp," Arthur said, his voice steady yet firm. "It's more organized than we expected. They've got squibs working with them, and their leader mentioned a shipment coming in this week."
Musashi, ever the inquisitive one, tilted his head slightly. "A shipment? Of what exactly?"
"Magical creatures," Arthur replied, his brow furrowing with concern. "Cages filled with them. Griffins, bowtruckles, occamies—you name it. They're planning to move everything to Kvitsøy, a small island nestled between Norway and Sweden."
Hecate leaned in closer, her sharp gaze focused intently on Arthur. "Kvitsøy… Why there?"
Arthur gestured toward Newt's empty chair. "Newt's looking into that now. He mentioned the Malmorin family, a wizarding clan with ties to Durmstrang. They have considerable influence in the area and might be involved with the poachers."
Guan Yu, his demeanor calm yet intense, placed his hand firmly on the table. "A direct confrontation is unavoidable. What are your plans for this shipment?"
Arthur took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "That's what we need to figure out. First, we'll need supplies. Herbs from Avalon's kitchen, and potions if we can manage it."
Hecate nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Good thinking. But supplies alone won't be sufficient. What about the poachers' defenses?"
Taliesin chimed in, his tone contemplative. "The concealment spell they used was clumsy, but it worked well enough. If they've got wards or stronger spells around Kvitsøy, we'll need a way to counteract them."
Arthur turned to Hecate, seeking her expertise. "Could you assist with that?"
A faint smirk played on her lips. "Of course. But dismantling wards takes time. We'll need a distraction to keep their focus away from me while I work."
Mulan's expression was calm but determined. "A diversion. Something to draw them away from the shipment while we secure the creatures."
Musashi leaned back, his fingers lightly tapping the hilt of his katana. "A diversion is one thing, but what about this–Malmorins? If they're involved, they'll be watching closely. We can't underestimate them."
Arthur nodded, his expression serious. "Exactly. That's where Newt's information will be crucial. Once we know more about the Malmorins' role, we can adjust our strategy."
Guan Yu's voice was steady, carrying a sense of urgency. "We need to act decisively. If this shipment is their priority, disrupting it will send a strong message—but it will also put a target on our backs."
Arthur's expression hardened. "Then we'll be ready for that, too."
As the discussion came to a close, Arthur rose from his chair. "I'll head to the kitchen to gather supplies. Taliesin, Mulan—can you lend me a hand? Sorting through the herbs will be quicker with all of us working together."
Mulan nodded, her resolve firm. "Of course."
Just as Arthur was about to leave the room, the elevator doors slid open, revealing two figures stepping into the lobby.
It was Eir and Medea.
The healers moved with quiet purpose, their contrasting appearances striking a balance of light and shadow. Eir's golden hair and silver robes seemed to glow softly in the ambient light, while Medea's dark hair and violet cloak exuded an air of focused intensity.
Arthur paused, turning to greet them. "Eir, Medea—thank you for everything you've done for Carol. Is she stable?"
Eir inclined her head, her serene voice soothing. "For now, yes. She will need more time to fully recover, but her condition has improved."
Medea's amber eyes scanned the group, sharp and discerning. "We're here for another purpose. These are for you."
She held up a small case, its surface etched with faint runes. Arthur took it carefully, opening it to reveal several vials of shimmering liquid.
"These are potions we prepared specifically for your journey," Medea explained. "They'll enhance resilience, counter harmful spells, and boost physical stamina."
Eir added softly, "Lífbrunnr—what you call Avalon—told us you would need them."
Arthur glanced at the potions, gratitude flickering in his expression. "Thank you. These will make a difference."
Taliesin leaned in, a playful grin on his face. "Impressive work. I 'd wager they'll keep us alive longer than my music will."
Medea ignored the comment, her gaze settling on Arthur. "We also came to introduce ourselves properly. Though the details will have to wait for another time."
Eir nodded, her voice carrying a quiet reverence. "My name is Eir. Before this sanctuary was Avalon, it was Lífbrunnr—a well of life and healing."
Medea's tone was calm but resolute. "And I'm Medea, in my time it was Aegis Hygieia—the Shield of Healing. It served as both a sanctuary and a place of innovation."
Arthur blinked, absorbing the weight of their words. "Another past keepers of Avalon…"
Eir inclined her head. "Yes. But that story is for another time."
Medea gestured to the potions. "Focus on your journey ahead. And use these wisely."
With that, the two healers turned and returned to the elevator, leaving Arthur and the others in contemplative silence.
As the group regrouped, Arthur felt a renewed sense of purpose. Avalon's support, both past and present, had prepared them for the challenges ahead. The mission in Kvitsøy was shaping up to be their greatest test yet, but with careful planning and their combined strengths, Arthur was determined to see it through.
The group retired to their rooms, the weight of their plans settling over them like a heavy blanket. Arthur lay in bed, his mind buzzing with strategy and possibilities, but the exhaustion of the day eventually claimed him.
…
When morning arrived, the mood in Avalon was one of quiet determination. Arthur gathered with Mulan, Taliesin, and Hecate in the lobby, their supplies laid out before them. The shimmering potions from Eir and Medea gleamed like liquid stars, their utility clear even before testing. Herbs and other magical components from the kitchen were sorted neatly, their potential uses already planned out.
Hecate picked up one of the potion vials, turning it in her hands. "These will help. But let's not rely entirely on them. Preparation and adaptability will be what saves us."
Mulan nodded. "We have enough food and supplies for a few days if needed. But the key will be speed—if we act quickly, we won't need to extend the mission longer than necessary."
Arthur adjusted his sword at his side. "And you'll be joining us this time, Hecate. Your expertise will be vital if Kvitsøy has wards or any other magical defenses."
She smirked faintly. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world. I'll dismantle whatever they've put up, but it'll take time. Keep them off me if we get into trouble."
Taliesin strummed a playful note on his harp. "And I'll provide the music to make sure we stay in sync."
Arthur grinned. "Then we're ready. Avalon, can you link the front door to wherever Newt is?"
The sanctuary's voice resonated softly. "Of course, Arthur. The connection is established."
…
Newt sat in his basement, surrounded by the familiar hum of magical beasts and the faint glow of enchanted lamps. His desk was cluttered with papers, notes, and an old tome stamped with the Durmstrang Institute's crest. The notes Volkov had provided were thorough, albeit indirect. They painted a picture of the Malmorin family's long and storied history—one that balanced a reputation for scholarly brilliance with dark rumors of taboo experiments. Newt frowned as he flipped through the pages.
The records from Durmstrang hinted at their deep involvement with magical creatures, but there was nothing concrete to tie them to the poaching ring. Their influence was vast, their wealth staggering, and their secrecy impenetrable. Newt's own scribbled notes added details from his conversations with Volkov, but even those lacked definitive proof.
"They've covered their tracks well," he muttered to himself, his pen tapping idly against the desk.
The sound of the front door swinging open jolted him upright. Newt turned sharply, wand in hand, only to freeze at the sight of four familiar figures stepping into his hallway. Arthur, Mulan, Taliesin, and Hecate stood framed by the doorway, looking as though they had just strolled in from a morning walk.
Arthur raised a hand in greeting, his expression apologetic but amused. "Morning, Newt."
Newt blinked, lowering his wand slowly. "Arthur? How did you—?" He gestured at the door. "How are you here?"
Taliesin chuckled, brushing imaginary dust from his harp. "Ah, our dear Avalon's magic. Once a door is connected, it opens to anywhere we choose. Handy, isn't it?"
Newt adjusted his scarf, still processing. "I suppose it is. But I wasn't expecting to be this early."
Hecate stepped inside, her sharp gaze scanning the room. "We thought it best to regroup here first. What have you found?"
Newt sighed, gesturing to the mess on his desk. "Plenty of conjecture, not much proof. The Malmorins have a long history with Durmstrang, including funding research into magical creatures. But nothing here ties them directly to the poachers."
Mulan stepped forward, picking up one of the papers. "What about these experiments? Anything illegal or dangerous?"
Newt nodded grimly. "Plenty of rumors, yes—experimentation on creatures, attempts to harness their magic for combat. But the records I've found are incomplete, and the details are vague at best."
Arthur folded his arms, his brow furrowing. "So they're careful. That's expected. But we don't need direct evidence to act—we know they're connected to the Kvitsøy shipment. That's enough to start."
Newt hesitated, then nodded. "Agreed. But this will make it more dangerous. If we're right about their involvement, the Malmorins won't tolerate interference lightly."
Hecate smirked faintly. "Good. I prefer when the stakes are high."
Arthur clapped Newt on the shoulder. "Let's focus on what we can do. We'll scout the shipment, disrupt their operation, and rescue those creatures. Whatever comes after, we'll face it together."
Newt managed a small smile, though concern lingered in his eyes. "All right. Let's begin."
As the group gathered their thoughts and prepared their next steps, Taliesin suddenly froze. His playful demeanor shifted, and he closed his eyes, his hand resting on his harp. A faint hum resonated through the air, as though the harp were attuned to something far away.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, his tone cautious but focused.
Taliesin opened his eyes slowly, a sharp glint in his gaze. "The cages I marked yesterday—they're already moving."
Arthur's expression darkened. "They're moving now? That complicates things."
Taliesin nodded. "It's faint, but I can feel it. The creatures are on the move, heading toward a different location."
Arthur exhaled, his mind racing. "There are a lot of possibilities. They could be making small shipments every day, ensuring their operations are easier to guard."
Newt furrowed his brow, adding quietly, "Or they could be relocating the creatures to avoid detection. The shipment to Kvitsøy might not be the only one—they could have multiple drop points scattered across Europe."
Hecate crossed her arms, her expression sharp. "Then we need to act quickly. If the camp is already emptying, we need to get to the bottom of their operations before the trail goes cold."
Arthur turned to Newt. "Do you have anything in the papers from Volkov that might help?"
Newt sifted through the notes on his desk, his fingers moving quickly. His brow furrowed as he scanned the pages, frustration evident on his face. "Nothing conclusive," he admitted. "There are plenty of rumors about the Malmorins' dealings with magical creatures, but nothing that ties them directly to the poachers. It's all too vague to act on."
Hecate leaned against the wall, her expression sharp. "Then we need a different approach. If we can't find evidence, we make them give it to us."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And how do you suggest we do that?"
Hecate smirked faintly. "Interrogate their leader. The one we saw at the camp yesterday—he's bound to know something. And if he doesn't, he'll point us to someone who does."
Mulan nodded thoughtfully. "It's risky, but it could work. If we can isolate him from the rest of his men, we might be able to get the information we need."
Taliesin plucked a string on his harp, the note echoing softly. "I like it. Straightforward and to the point."
Arthur crossed his arms, considering the idea. Finally, he nodded. "All right. We go back to the camp. But we'll need a solid plan to get to him without causing too much of a stir—or letting the others escape."
Hecate pushed off the wall, a sly grin on her face. "Leave that part to me."
The group made their way toward the camp, preparing their disguises. Newt, ever resourceful, provided them with robes and insignias from the Ministry of Magic, claiming that a Ministry inspection would be plausible enough to gain them entry.
"Ministry personnel inspecting poaching activity," Newt explained as they adjusted their robes. "It's not common, but it's not unheard of either. It'll buy us time."
Arthur smirked faintly. "Let's hope they don't ask too many questions."
Taliesin adjusted his borrowed robe with a dramatic flourish. "Don't worry, lad. Leave the acting to me."
As they neared the edge of the forest surrounding the camp, Hecate raised a hand, her eyes narrowing. "Wait. If we're going to do this, let me take the lead."
Arthur frowned slightly. "Why?"
Hecate's smirk was cold and confident. "Because I have a better way to deal with poachers."
Hecate stepped forward, her hands glowing faintly as she reached out to the surrounding forest. The air seemed to grow colder, the light dimming as the shadows around the trees stretched unnaturally, weaving and twisting like living things.
Her voice was low and steady as she murmured an incantation, her original magic bending the shadows to her will. The forest became a realm of creeping darkness, the poachers' camp swallowed by an oppressive, shifting gloom.
Arthur watched with a mix of awe and unease. "What are you doing?"
"Bending their shadows," Hecate said simply. "It's one thing they can't run from. Their own fear will do the rest."
The shadows moved with terrifying precision, consuming the poachers one by one. Silent and relentless, they dragged the unsuspecting men into the darkness, their muffled cries barely audible.
The camp erupted into chaos, the remaining poachers scrambling to escape the creeping terror.
The leader of the poachers emerged from one of the tents, barking orders at his men. "Stand your ground! It's just magic—counter it!"
But his voice faltered as he saw a figure stepping through the shadows toward him, wearing what looked like Ministry robes. Arthur's sword gleamed faintly in the dim light, and behind him, Mulan moved like a ghost, her presence unnervingly quiet.
The leader's courage broke. He turned to run, his feet barely carrying him as the shadows seemed to close in from all sides.
Arthur gave a swift nod to Mulan, and in one fluid motion, they intercepted the leader. Mulan's blade flashed, forcing him to stop in his tracks, while Arthur moved to block his escape entirely.
The leader stumbled back, his wand raised shakily, but before he could cast anything, Newt stepped forward.
"Petrificus Totalus," Newt said calmly, flicking his wand.
The leader froze, his body rigid as the binding spell took hold. He fell to the ground, immobilized but conscious, his wide eyes darting in panic.
Taliesin, who had been watching from the edge of the camp, strolled forward with a satisfied grin. "Well, that was efficient. I'd say we've made quite the impression."
Arthur sheathed his sword, his gaze fixed on the captured leader. "Good. Now let's find out what he knows."
The group stood amidst the remains of the poachers' camp, the shadows still lingering faintly as a reminder of Hecate's magic. They had taken a bold step, and though the fight wasn't over, the leader in their custody was a critical piece in unraveling the poachers' operation.
For now, they had the upper hand—and they intended to keep it. Arthur knelt beside the immobilized leader, his expression a mix of determination and intensity. "You're going to tell us everything you know about the shipment and the Malmorin family," he said, his voice low and steady.
The leader's eyes widened in fear, but he remained silent, his defiance evident even in his bound state. Arthur exchanged a glance with Hecate, who stepped forward, her presence commanding.
"Let's make this easier for you," she said, her tone smooth yet laced with an underlying threat. "You can either cooperate, or I can make this very uncomfortable for you."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone