The music in the throne room of Venice was lively, the melodies captivated the guests and filled the room with a magical atmosphere. Mortis, the King of Venice, danced with grace and pride with Elara, the Margravine, and Elysia, one of the brave adventurers. The festive mood spread through the air as people in their colorful robes enjoyed themselves on the benches and enjoyed the party to the fullest.
The light from the chandeliers was reflected in the sparkling eyes of those present, while alcohol bubbled in the cups and the joy of victory was doused. Those who had fought in the battle were especially honored, celebrating their courage and determination. The faces of the soldiers and adventurers bore marks of effort and sacrifice, but also bright smiles of triumph.
Mortis led Elara and Elysia elegantly across the dance floor, his steps in tune with the music. They all danced not only with each other, but with relief at the battle they had won and hope for a better future. Elara's dress shimmered in the candlelight, and Elysia's eyes lit up with joy and excitement.
The guests' conversations mingled with the sound of music and laughter. Stories of victory and heroism were told, while memories of the fallen were cherished. The throne room was filled with a mixture of jubilation and melancholy as people shared both the happiness of victory and the sorrow of loss.
That night in Venice, joy and melancholy merged, and the people celebrated not only the victory over the demons, but also the strength of their community and the love that had brought them together. And so they danced in the throne room, celebrating life and hope, while the stars above Venice shone silently in the sky.
Mortis enjoyed the cool breeze on the balcony as he fixed his gaze on Elysia and Elara dancing and laughing in the hall. Their happiness touched his heart, and he smiled to himself as he took a sip of wine. The evening calm enveloped him, and he tried to absorb the peaceful atmosphere to fortify himself for the challenges ahead.
Suddenly, a somber and raspy voice broke the silence beside him. Mortis froze as his gaze turned to the dark corner of the balcony from which the voice had come. His grip on the wine glass tightened, and he felt an inexplicable chill trickle down his spine.
"Gilles," the voice whispered, dangerous and full of mystery. "You may celebrate victory, but the shadow of your ancient enemy approaches. He returns, more powerful and stronger than ever. New allies he has found, dark beings who amplify his power."
Mortis' heart began to beat faster as he tried to discern the identity of the speaker. "What do you expect me to do?" he asked in a firm voice as he reached for his scythe, which he retrieved from his Magic Ring.
The dark figure remained hidden in the shadows, and its eerie laughter pierced the silence. "I am but a warning, Mortis, a messenger from the past. But remember that the past often holds the keys to the future. Be vigilant and look for the signs, for Gilles plans his return with darkness and death in tow."
Mortis' determination awoke, and he fixed the dark corner with a determined look. "I will not run from Gilles," he said firmly. "I will grow stronger and face him. And I will wait to see what he can muster to defeat me. I will wait for him."
The man from the corner laughed somberly, said goodbye, and disappeared as mysteriously as he had appeared. Only a silver feather remained, gleaming in the weak light of the moon, a silent reminder of the somber words that announced Mortis' fate.
Mortis couldn't help but grin as he looked toward the horizon with anticipation, tenderly stroking the Valkyrie that adorned his scythe. A new adventure awaited him, and his eyes narrowed with excitement. The anticipation brought his mood to a new high and filled him with an irrepressible energy.
Determined and full of vigor, he walked over to his dancing fiancées. He placed one hand on Elara's hip and the other on Elysia's back, gently pulled them to him and began to dance with them. The music enveloped them as they floated in close contact. Mortis enjoyed the moment, feeling the warmth of their bodies and feeling filled with their love and liveliness.
Determined and with a fleeting smile, Mortis broke away from Elara and Elysia, his betrothed, who looked at him with a mix of desire and curiosity. His eyes glowed with determination as he turned his gaze to his wives. With a silent but determined nod, he motioned for them to follow him.
In the darkness of the night, they strode away, far from the hustle and bustle of the festivities. Mortis led them with firm steps as they obediently followed him. It was as if they were obeying an invisible call, an unspoken invitation to an intimate encounter under the night sky.
Darkness enveloped them as they moved away from the noisy celebration. Mortis' determination was their compass, and they followed it willingly. The atmosphere was electrified by the tension between them, and they knew that a night of passion and desire lay ahead. In the seclusion of darkness they would release their deepest longings and desires, far from the prying eyes of the world. It was a moment they awaited with anticipation and abandon as they followed Mortis into the darkness, ready to give themselves completely to him.