Chapitre 6: Chapter 6: Echoes of the Past
The fire crackled softly as the first rays of dawn crept over the ruined village. Alysia sat cross-legged, her eyes drooping from a restless night. Aragos stood a few feet away, staring out into the forest as if he could see something she couldn't.
"We're not staying here," he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness.
She blinked up at him, confused. "What? Why not? The ruins are safe enough."
"Safe is relative," he replied, his tone cold. "The beast last night was only a scout. Where there's one, there are more."
Alysia felt her stomach knot. "You didn't think to mention that earlier?"
"You seemed preoccupied with proving yourself," he said with a smirk.
She glared at him but rose to her feet. "Fine. Where are we going?"
"There's a place nearby," he said cryptically, turning on his heel and walking away.
"What kind of place?" she pressed, hurrying after him.
"You'll see."
They trekked through dense underbrush for hours, the forest around them growing darker and more ominous. Alysia's legs burned, but she refused to complain—not with Aragos's smug smirk at the ready.
Finally, they came to a stop in front of a moss-covered boulder. Aragos ran his fingers over its surface, muttering something under his breath.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Alysia asked, crossing her arms.
He ignored her, pressing his palm against the rock. A faint glow spread from his hand, and the boulder began to shift, revealing a narrow stone staircase descending into darkness.
Alysia stared in disbelief. "What is this place?"
"An old sanctuary," he said, stepping into the opening. "For those who knew where to look."
She hesitated, eyeing the shadowy stairway. "And what exactly are we looking for?"
"Answers," he said simply, disappearing into the darkness.
With a sigh, Alysia followed.
The air grew colder as they descended, the walls slick with moisture. When they reached the bottom, Alysia gasped. The chamber was massive, lit by an eerie blue glow emanating from floating orbs. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and artifacts covered in dust.
"What is this place?" she whispered, her voice reverent.
"A library," Aragos said, his tone devoid of emotion. "One of the few remaining from the Age of Kings."
Alysia approached a nearby shelf, her fingers brushing against the spines of ancient tomes. "How do you know about this?"
"I built it," he said, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light.
She froze, turning to him. "You… built this?"
He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Before the curse. Before I became… this."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. Alysia wanted to ask more but decided against it. Instead, she pulled a book from the shelf, its title written in a language she didn't recognize.
"What does it say?" she asked, holding it out to him.
Aragos took the book, his lips curling into a faint smile. "The Art of Dominance," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "A fitting choice for someone as stubborn as you."
She rolled her eyes. "Very funny. Is there anything useful here?"
He gestured to the shelves. "Everything here is useful. If you know how to use it."
As they sifted through the library's treasures, Alysia couldn't help but notice how Aragos seemed to soften. He handled the books with care, his fingers tracing the pages as if reconnecting with a part of himself long forgotten.
"Why did you build this place?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"To preserve knowledge," he said without looking up. "Even kings need wisdom to rule."
"And yet you lost everything," she said before she could stop herself.
His eyes snapped to hers, the golden hue darkening. "Careful, little witch. You're treading on thin ice."
She swallowed hard but didn't back down. "You said it yourself—knowledge is power. Maybe if you'd used it better, you wouldn't have—"
He slammed the book shut, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Do not presume to understand what you cannot comprehend."
Alysia's heart raced, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. "Then help me comprehend."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have courage. Foolish, reckless courage. Perhaps that will serve you well."
Before she could respond, a low hum filled the air. The floating orbs flickered, and the ground beneath them trembled.
"What's happening?" Alysia asked, her voice tinged with panic.
Aragos's expression darkened. "We're not alone."
From the shadows, a figure emerged—a cloaked being with eyes that glowed like molten lava. It held a staff etched with runes that pulsed with dark energy.
"Well, well," the figure said, its voice smooth and chilling. "The King of Izea awakens."
Aragos's stance shifted, his body taut like a bowstring. "Who are you?"
The figure chuckled. "An admirer. And a reminder of the chaos you left behind."
Alysia stepped closer to Aragos, her instincts screaming danger. "What do they want?" she whispered.
The figure's gaze shifted to her, and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. "And who is this? A pet? How quaint."
Aragos's jaw tightened. "Leave her out of this."
The figure laughed. "How noble. But you forget, King Aragos, nobility doesn't suit you."
With a flick of its staff, the chamber erupted in chaos. Shelves toppled, books flew through the air, and the ground split open, revealing a swirling abyss.
"Stay back!" Aragos commanded, stepping in front of Alysia.
She gritted her teeth, summoning a shield of light. "I can help!"
Aragos glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Then don't die."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone