To the camp
They ran all day, the column was not moving as fast as Zarkhaïm wanted and he constantly pressed the soldiers to go faster, the horses were tired after the day and needed to rest for the night. They established the night camp but Zarkhaïm was nervous. He went to his tent and started pacing. Miroïr saw it and went to join him.
"What is happening, why are you so tense? Jäwell is a strong warrior, I am sure he will be fine," Miroïr tried to reassure Zarkhaïm.
The king paused himself for a moment. Miroïr served him a cup of tea, he took it and calmed down enough to finally sit.
"I have a bad feeling. Something is wrong, they should not have been so well organized. There is something illogical. I just don't know what."
Miroïr sat next to him and took his hand gently.
"You are not alone. Believe in Jäwell. He is great and we will join him in time. I asked the mages to work on a spell along the way to reduce the distance for us, Leïlana managed something and we will arrive tomorrow."
Zarkhaïm looked him in the eyes, they were so close together at the moment. If physically they were only touching hands, Zarkhaïm felt like Miroïr's soul was a part of him. He was the one he had chosen to share eternity with, but for this, Jäwell must survive and rule.
Zarkhaïm placed his head on Miroïr's lap to search for reassurance and Miroïr caressed his head tenderly almost immediately. Like the last time, Zarkhaïm fell asleep on his knees. Miroïr helped him to lie down in the bed but when he tried to leave Zarkhaïm caught his arm firmly and pulled him against his chest in one move.
The strong and ferocious king whispered with a trembling voice, in a weakness that Miroïr had never seen before while holding him strongly, "Stay with me."
Miroïr could feel the fear running through his veins and stayed with Zarkhaïm all night until he eventually closed his eyes in his arms. In the morning, Leïlana entered the tent, to her, everything was normal. In her mind, these two were lovers for a long time and that was nothing surprising to find them sharing a bed. Zarkhaïm chuckled about the situation, especially with Miroïr trying to hide his embarrassment under the bedsheets. They have been in a cocoon, they forgot for a short time the fact that they were in a tent in a military camp and that the situation was serious.
"Miroïr, the spell is ready. We can leave now," announced Leïlana in a somber tone.
After these words, everybody was ready to leave as fast as possible. Soldiers needed only a short time to dismount the tents and go back on the road.
Leïlana explained her plan to Miroïr who had joined them in the carriage. The column started to walk again but soldiers were showing aggressiveness. Some of them were complaining that the carriage was making them slower and that they were losing precious time.
Common people had issues with the mages. The idea of magic was still very recent and most of them only heard of it as a strange hobby of the king. Some of them even thought Zarkhaïm lost his mind to give money and power to this organization.
Miroïr made a sign by the window to catch Zarkhaïm's attention. The king saw it and came to join him.
"We are ready, we will transport the column using a portal reducing the distance. Once we traverse it, we will be in Jäwell's camp. Lead the men to walk straight ahead only, we start when you are ready," explained Miroïr quickly.
Zarkhaïm acknowledged and raced to the head of the column. He gave his orders to walk straight ahead with a powerful voice to be sure to be heard by everyone. Then, he raised his arm to give the signal.
"Now!"
Miroïr saw it, he joined his hands with the ones of the other mages. People around could hear the incantations, many men were laughing discreetly and made comments about their sanity.
But soon, the image in front of them became distorted and they couldn't see reality anymore. In front of them was a dark tunnel without lights. Miroïr screamed through the window.
"Walk! Fast!"
In the blink of an eye, the soldiers saw the distorted reality becoming clear again. They were terrified, not only because they could not see anything, but also because adding to the sound of massive birds in the darkness, they had to admit that magic existed.
These people had powers beyond their imagination. They walked through the tunnel in silence, some of them were trembling out of fear as the darkness seemed to retract on them.
They only had a couple of hundred meters to cover before they were back in the light, and those few meters seemed like the hardest of their lives.
Once on the other side, they had arrived at Jäwell's camp. They couldn't believe they did so much distance in such a short time.
As they watched around them they noticed that the camp was almost empty. They saw a few hundred men walking slowly, and all were wounded. The army was defeated and the camp was in very bad shape. The just-arrived generals and captains gave their orders to their respective battalions to reinforce and occupy their positions.
During this time Zarkhaïm ran to the commander's tent to find Jäwell, but he only found documents. He went out as fast as he entered and screamed in the direction of Miroïr.
"He is not here! Come with me!"
Zarkhaïm whistled to his horse as he was running, he hopped on it while racing to Miroïr. Once he was close enough, he grabbed him by the hand and Miroïr jumped behind him with just enough time to put his arms around Zarkhaïm, embracing him tightly, before Zarkhaïm pushed the horse at his full speed wildly.
Suddenly, Miroïr was afraid. He was exhausted by the spell and his heart was beating slowly, having only one thing in his mind.
"Please, Jäwell, be alive," he whispered to himself.
They were both very anxious, and they ran as fast as possible in the direction of the battlefield.
As they arrived, the smell of blood was stronger than ever. They both jumped on the floor like one man, separating immediately to search Jäwell's body amongst the corpses, allies, and enemies.
Soon enough, Miroïr saw Zarkhaïm becoming paler.
The king whispered, "He is there."