Under the cover of the dark night, only a sea of dense, shadowy trees stretched in every direction, like a black mantle that covered everything, dimming the starry sky and drowning out any sound that wasn't the creaking of branches or the whisper of leaves. There was no sign of civilization, no light shining in the distance, no trace of human life to break the sepulchral silence that reigned over the place.
Except for the caravan of carriages, moving slowly with their lanterns extinguished and curtains drawn. It slithered along a worn, dusty road like a snake weaving through underbrush, which stirred and shifted as the wheels passed, kicking up clouds of dust that hovered in the still night air. On either side marched knights in black armor, their faces hidden behind their helms. Their armor gleamed like the night itself, with a sinister shine that reflected the starlight. They radiated an aura of death.
Inside the most prominent carriage, moving at a slow and majestic pace, sat an old man with a long white beard and flowing hair that gave him an air of wisdom and authority. Embedded in his left eye was a strange clockwork device, its faint glow mirroring the light of the stars. He wore a black robe that clung to his slender frame and held a twisted wooden staff.
"We're almost there," said the old man in a soft, calm voice, as if he were speaking from experience, one he had lived through many times before. His eyes, lined with age and filled with wisdom, glimmered with knowledge that seemed earned through hardship and strife.
Beside him sat a pale-skinned woman wrapped in a red robe, her striking beauty and slender figure impossible to ignore. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back, and her green eyes sparkled like jewels in the dim carriage. She was like an exotic flower blooming in a hostile place, and her presence seemed to brighten the space around her.
"Yes, we had a great harvest this time. I'm sure the dean will be pleased and reward us handsomely," the woman said with a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with greed.
"Bitch, don't forget you almost screwed up the mission and now expect to be well rewarded. If it weren't for the witch Aldric, we wouldn't even be here," replied a crackling voice, followed by a loud click, like the snap of a deadly trap. The speaker's figure was completely hidden beneath a black cloak and mask. Beneath the fabric, something unknown squirmed, twisting like a snake in a sack.
The woman shot a sarcastic glance at Adam, her voice laced with challenge. "Insect, do you want to fight here? Or are you still afraid to face the Lords of Flame? I haven't forgotten that when they summoned one, you were the first to try to run with your tail between your legs. Are you a coward, Adam?" she taunted.
"Watch your tongue, Lanira. Fleeing from an enemy that would have surely killed us isn't cowardice," Adam snapped back with his chittering voice.
"Enough, both of you. This is not the time to argue about that. None of us knew the mages would have someone capable of summoning a Lord of Flame to protect their caravan. Though now I understand why. Who would expect so many magically gifted children in such a remote area?" Aldric said in a deep voice.
"Yes, it was quite unexpected. But in the end, after a good fight, we defeated him and came away with valuable rewards. Lord Aldric even found useful corpses for his experiments and some lovely toys for escort," Lanira said, glancing at the knights.
"Adam, go check on the children. They're probably awake by now. It's time they learned what awaits them," Aldric ordered with unsettling calm.
"Understood, Lord Aldric," Adam replied, stepping out of the carriage.
From his position, he could see seventeen carriages in total. They looked like war prisoner cages, covered with iron bars to prevent any escape. Each one was filled with children, their faces marked by fear and despair.
"Good harvest. Two hundred thirty-four children in total. Those white mages are going to be furious when they find out what happened," Adam murmured with amusement.
Inside the carriages, most of the children were already awake. None of them looked older than fourteen. They were terrified. Surrounded by knights in black armor, caged like pigs on their way to the slaughter, there was no way out.
In one of the carriages, positioned near the center of the convoy, lay an unconscious boy with black hair and pale skin. Judging by his appearance, he was about twelve years old.
As time passed, he slowly began to wake. The first thing he heard was the murmur of frightened voices, children sobbing, the sound of hooves against the ground, and, in rhythm, a metallic symphony like thousands of tiny bells ringing at once.
When he finally managed to open his eyes, he glimpsed the starry sky. It was a beautiful sight. But what astonished and terrified him was that three moons were lighting up the world.
In shock, the boy sat up and looked around. Seeing the massive army surrounding him and the dozens of cages filled with children like himself, he could only whisper in a trembling, fearful voice:
"Shit."