Ethan was devouring breakfast—cured meat with eggs, pancakes, and milk—gobbling down everything in front of him as if he would never see food again. With overwhelming joy in his voice, he said:
"It's so tiring to go down to the cellar just for a piece of meat... Someone should invent a fridge!"
Ainliss was calmly eating his pancakes, cutting them with his slender fingers. He replied with food in his mouth:
"Yes... where... do you want... us to put it? And do you even know how to make one, genius?"
Ethan gave a silly, confused smile:
"Of course not..."
Ainliss laughed and said mockingly:
"Were you only masturbating in your world...?"
Ethan returned the laugh and said sarcastically:
"At least I don't fucked with horses..."
Ainliss slapped the table fiercely while laughing, then said:
"Hahaha, you amuse me..."
Ethan said with a smile:
"I didn't expect you to laugh."
Ainliss continued laughing until the food caught in his throat, and he started coughing and laughing, snot beginning to run from his nose. He grabbed a glass of milk and drank it while coughing heavily.
Ethan was laughing at him, saying:
"That's your last laugh, haha."
Ainliss calmed down and said, his voice mixed with residual laughter:
"Hoooffff, I was about to face the horse in the grave!"
As soon as Ethan heard him, he started crying from laughter, saying with difficulty:
"He will take revenge on you..."
Ainliss was calmly eating his pancakes, but a slight clicking sound emanated from his mouth with every bite. It wasn't a loud sound, but a repeated whisper resulting from his teeth rubbing against the food, like the jarring rhythm of brittle breaking.
He smiled and said calmly, his words broken up by chewing:
"I hope he doesn't do that. By the way, I see you are quiet, no questions. What's wrong?"
Ethan enthusiastically put the glass of milk aside, and asked with a tone of perplexed concern and annoyance:
"First, the sound of your chewing is annoying me... Could you please stop eating and chewing?"
A faint smile appeared on his face, and he said softly:
"Sorry..."
Ethan spoke, his eyes filled with a sparkle, ready to receive information:
"Thank you... Is there a connection between the tattoo and my transference here?"
Ainliss swallowed his food, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and said in his deep voice:
"There are three: The Andarean, The Langunean, and The Bidean."
Ethan raised his hand and sighed, saying:
"The Andanians or whatever, what's their relation...?"
He smiled again and said with his usual calmness:
"Well, I will only tell you about The Bidin[1]."
Fear appeared on Ethan's face, as if he was about to learn the secret of his transference here.
Ainliss continued his calm speech:
"The Biadin are beings that do not belong to Arthera, and throughout the ages, every Biadin has had an adverse effect on our world."
Ethan swallowed the piece of cured meat he had eaten and said with greater astonishment:
"How is that...?"
Ainliss drank a little milk, then continued his speech:
"The tattoo on your back, Ethan, is nothing but a symbol of your power."
Ethan laughed and said sarcastically:
"Are you kidding me? A pack of wolves was about to eat me alive!"
Ainliss said:
"You will know when we meet someone important."
Ethan wiped his mouth with his fingers, then put down the eating fork, raising his eyebrow, filled with apprehension:
"You are speaking strangely. Who are we going to meet?"
Ainliss slowly moved his ornate wooden chair. Then, breaking the calm they had established, he lifted his left foot and placed it on the edge of the dining table, looking at Ethan with an expression devoid of warmth.
"Go and change your clothes first," he said roughly.
Ethan stood up with difficulty and said hesitantly:
"But... the nurse told me to rest."
Ainliss interrupted him sharply:
"Don't worry... Change your clothes; time is pressing."
Ethan headed toward the winding staircase that led to the upper floor. This climb was a real test for his tormenting wounds. With every step, he had to lean heavily on the wooden railing.
Faint squeaking sounds emanated from the antique wooden floor beneath his feet, as if it too was groaning under the weight of his exhaustion.
When Ethan finally reached the second floor, he found himself in a small hallway separating four rooms, all with closed doors. The floor here was covered with a thick, dark red wool rug, absorbing footsteps, its softness alleviating his pain.
Ethan headed toward the bedroom directly opposite the bathroom. It was a spacious room but simple compared to the luxury of the lower hall.
It contained a huge bed covered with a heavy green blanket, and a massive wardrobe made of dark walnut wood. On a side table, lit candles cast a warm glow and gave the place a faint sandalwood scent.
Ethan muttered to himself:
"I miss my old clothes."
Ethan headed to the massive wardrobe and opened its doors to find a collection of dark, well-made clothes. He chose a long-sleeved black shirt and tidy wool trousers of the same color.
Ethan took off his stained white shirt, then put on the black shirt. When it came to the trousers, he adjusted them to suit his style.
The wool trousers were thick and tidy, but Ethan folded their edges around the ankle unevenly and aggressively, transforming them into something resembling Russian gym wear.
He scratched his head, then muttered to himself: "Where do he keep his socks?"
After a quick search in the drawers, he found snow-white wool socks and quickly put them on.
Ethan headed to the first floor, and when he descended the stairs, Ainliss was standing, waiting for him.
A strange silence prevailed for a moment. Ainliss was still in his pose, eating an apple, but he stopped chewing, shock etched on his sharp face as he curiously rubbed his pointed ears.
Ainliss said in astonishment:
"I've never seen anyone wear clothes like that. Why did you fold the edges of the trousers like this?"
Ethan smiled with the arrogance of a confident bully, and said:
"I feel comfortable like this."
Ainliss returned to his sarcastic smile and said:
"Alright then. Move, ugly-looking one."
Ethan put on leather boots that were slightly too big for him, making his feet play inside them with every step. He walked behind Ainliss in a ridiculous and mismatched appearance, while the eyes of the few city dwellers followed him, wondering why this strange young man was wearing his clothes in such a suspicious manner.
Bostgast, as Ethan saw it from afar, was a city of artistry in the Age of Golden Hours.
The streets were paved with dark stones and bustling with activity; wooden carriages pulled by horses moved slowly.
Merchants wearing thick, brightly colored wool clothes displayed their goods. Colored flags and intricately carved copper lanterns hung from the balconies, and the houses with pointed tiled roofs looked as if they had just stepped out of a fairy tale.
But what was strange were the residents themselves; not everyone was human. Ethan saw some people with sharp features resembling Ainliss, pointed ears, and others who were very short in stature.
Ainliss's quick steps pushed Ethan to the verge of collapse. Ethan said in an astonished tone, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead:
"It's as if I'm in a Fantasy movie!"
Ainliss was surprised and said, casting a side glance at Ethan:
"What do you mean by 'Fantasy movie'?"
He smiled, playing with his brown locks of hair:
"I don't know how to explain it to you, because you won't understand."
Ainliss turned his face towards him and said calmly:
"Fine, then bless us with silence."
After that, Ethan felt exhausted and annoyed by the large leather boots his foot was swaying inside of. He suddenly stopped, bent down and slowly, painfully removed them, and Ethan began walking barefoot on the stone pavement of the city, turning his snow-white wool socks a dark, oily color from the accumulated dirt.
As they walked, the two entered a place resembling a morning market. The area was buzzing with the noise of merchants and the sounds of hammers on metals.
Tents of different colors and shapes filled the place, and each tent displayed strange products; glowing crystal pieces, animal hides Ethan had never seen before, and vegetables with colors as bright as gemstones.
A vendor wearing a worn brown cloak approached them, his hair short and black with a thick beard, and his yellow eyes shone sharply. He said in a loud, enthusiastic voice:
"Come on, young man, we have stylish clothes that suit your strange look!"
Ethan looked at him from his feet up to his head, scrutinizing him with his usual bully's gaze, then said in a strange tone:
"I see that..."
He ignored him completely to follow Ainliss, who stopped in front of a very large, pitch-black tent, from which many people were entering and exiting with a suspicious quietness.
Ainliss spoke calmly, looking at the tent:
"We have arrived."
Ethan put his hands near his eyes because of the strong sunlight, then said:
"Are you going to buy me clothes or what?"
Ainliss gave a muffled laugh as he saw Ethan's socks that had turned black:
"It would be better to buy you shoes first."
Ethan replied, apprehension slowly creeping in:
"Are we going inside?"
Ainliss laughed more sharply:
"No, we're going out!"
Ethan placed his hand on his face and sighed, saying:
"You failed...!"
Ainliss spoke with a smile on his features:
"You are the one who failed to laugh."
Ethan did not reply; he was watching the tent closely. Then, Ainliss placed his hand on Ethan's back, in a calm movement that carried a lot of pressure, and said with a calmness that forced Ethan to move:
"Step forward..."
As soon as Ethan's foot crossed the threshold of the entrance, the thick velvet curtain closed behind him with a muffled, quick sound, as if the tent had swallowed him, and the noise of the bustling market completely vanished.
The inside was not entirely dark, but was bathed in a faint, cold blue light emanating from glowing crystals floating in the air. These crystals moved slowly in defined paths, casting long, moving shadows.
The floor was covered with a very thick, dark purple carpet, so much so that Ethan's barefoot steps were completely absorbed, making no sound.
In addition, the air was cold and laden with a strong, pungent smell of incense, giving the place an ecclesiastical or ritualistic feel. Ethan suddenly felt he hadn't just entered a tent, but a secret temple for planning and conspiracies.
Everyone began to retreat with suspicious quietness, and dozens of people in dark cloaks filed out, one after another, until only Ethan and Ainliss remained in the tent, and the object of all this mystery.
In the center of the place sat lady Eldweyn ; her hair as white as old bones, her features weathered by years, but the power in her eyes made her seem as if she ruled the world around her.
She was sitting on a lavish chair, crafted from the finest leather and wool, and in front of her was a wooden table, but its lower part was glowing with a strange dark purple color.
Ethan felt a wave of cold fear wash over him. One look at the old woman was enough for him to realize that this was the real danger. His heartbeat slowly accelerated, heavy and painful.
Ethan looked at Ainliss to confirm if he shared this terrifying feeling, but Ainliss was completely calm, which increased Ethan's panic.
Ainliss took the lead in speaking and said with forced calmness and obvious respect in his tone:
"Ma'am Eldweyn, I wish to reveal this boy's Trunk."
The old woman looked sharply at Ethan, scrutinizing him from his dirty-sock-covered bare feet to his messy hair. Then she said in an old, deep voice like an echo coming from a cave:
"do you know him? He looks like a vagrant."
Ethan's heartbeat was now frantically accelerating, and he understood nothing of their conversation,The Trunk?, He felt dizzy and unable to intervene.
Ainliss spoke with reverence, as if addressing a queen, reinforcing his lie:
"Yes. He is connected to my sister's family..."
Ainliss's continuous lies increased Ethan's fear and weighed heavily with questions. He realized his role was no more than a tool in a game whose rules he did not understand.
The old woman said calmly, breaking the silence of the place:
"Very well, young man... What is your name?"
Ethan gathered his strength and said hesitantly:
"My name is Ethan..."
The old woman slowly raised her eyebrow, and her gaze returned to him. She said as if hinting at a hidden secret:
"Ethan? I haven't heard a name like that in my life."
Then, with a deliberate slow motion, the old woman extended her trembling hand to a drawer in the wooden table with the purple glow.
She took out a twisted white branch, which illuminated the place with a faint but strong, radiant light, as if light itself was embodied in a piece of wood.
Hardly had Ethan processed the sight, when the old woman took out another, pitch-black branch, as if made of the night itself. It devoured the light emanating from the white branch, creating a vortex of shadows around it.
Seeing these two contrasting branches made Ethan slowly step back, an expression of astonishment and fear frozen on his features. He realized that something monumental was about to happen.
The old woman's gaze was harsh and frightening, enough to make him follow her orders without thinking. Then the old woman spoke slowly, every word ringing in his ears:
"Step forward... and take the Black Branch."
Ethan advanced hesitantly, his eyes expressing his extreme fear and total confusion. His trembling hand reached for the Black Branch, which felt cold and dead to his touch. And as soon as he gripped it, the old woman grasped the White Branch with her other hand.
At that moment, a brilliant, blinding white light shot out from her eyes, a light that pierced the tent and completely enveloped Ethan. Ethan felt a cold current sweep through his body. He was unable to move, only watching her with deadly terror.
[1] The Bidin singular word of Bidean