FOUR VIEWS ON ONE NAME
The storm had subsided, but the sky remained overcast, with dense clouds that seemed intent on swallowing the light. The plain was shrouded in a thick fog, whispering forgotten secrets between its cold fingers.
Sary walked with a serene gait, her black cloak brushing against the damp grass as she made her way toward a rock formation where three figures awaited her. The humidity in the air mingled the fresh, earthy scent with a faint fragrance of incense emanating from small, hidden embers.
When she arrived, the three women greeted her with intense, almost defiant stares. Each radiated a haunting beauty, as if time could not touch them.
The first, Melithra, had jet-black hair that fell in soft waves and violet eyes that seemed to sparkle in the dim light. Her smile was an enigma, and her movements, feline.
"You've been late, Sary," he said softly, "but always on time when the night turns dangerous."
The second, Vyrellis, stood out for her golden hair, intertwined with small dark crystals. Her gaze was cold, analytical, and her lips curved in a sneer that mixed disdain and curiosity.
"What's new about Zyrion? Do you still think it's the key or just an unnecessary risk?"
The third, Liora, the youngest but no less powerful, had an angelic face framed by chestnut curls that fell freely over her shoulders. Her green eyes shone with an intensity that belied her innocent appearance.
"I confess that the power it emits unsettles me. It's not just strength, it's... something that resonates within me, as if awakening something I thought was dormant."
Sary studied them all carefully before answering. Her silver eyes flashed with a cold gleam, the still-fresh rain leaving fine droplets on her smooth skin.
"Zyrion is not just a human with a fragment. He is an anomaly, a bridge between our world and the past. His blood vibrates with the essence of the Ancestral Blood, but it is broken, incomplete. The leader knows this. That is why everything is in flux."
Melithra raised an eyebrow, toying with a strand of her dark hair.
"So what do you propose? Wait for the leader to make his move? Or act before that child becomes a threat to everyone?"
Sary took a deep breath, her gaze lost for a moment on the horizon.
"We cannot simply wait. But neither can we rush. Zyrion is wounded, fragmented. It is like a flame that can either die out or become a wildfire. We must be the ones to decide that."
Vyrellis crossed his arms, his expression turning hard.
"If the leader finds out we've strayed, there will be no mercy. We're not rivals, we're shadows under his command. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't protect our future."
Liora approached Sary, lowering her voice.
"What if the future we protect is a lie? What if Zyrion brings a change that saves us from eternal darkness? I refuse to remain a silent witness to the end of everything."
Sary felt a sharp relief at the young woman's words. Her eyes sparkled in an almost maternal way.
"You are stronger than you think, Liora. Tonight, we are more than warriors. We are guardians of the balance between truth and shadow."
Melithra smiled, her white teeth gleaming in the dim light.
"So what do we do? Do we wait for Zyrion to fully awaken, or do we intervene to shape its destiny?"
Sary raised her hand, her fingers delicate but firm.
"We will observe. We will learn. And when the time comes, we will be the hands that guide him or the shadows that consume him."
A cool breeze rose, carrying dry leaves and ash. The four women shared a deep gaze, a silent pact that transcended words.
The night was advancing, and with it, the fate of the world hung by a thread.
The fog had thickened so much that the surrounding rocks resembled the silhouettes of sleeping beasts. A metallic scent seeped into the air, as if the earth itself remembered ancient battles. From cracks in the ground, tiny wisps of vapor rose and tangled in the cold breeze, forming ephemeral shapes.
Sary stood erect, her hands clasped behind her back, droplets of moisture glistening in her dark hair. Her silver eyes seemed to absorb every shadow, as if they could dissect the world into truths and lies.
Melithra leaned forward, sitting on a low rock, and let her long, slender fingers trace an invisible pattern on the wet surface.
"You know I like games, Sary, but this one in particular smells fishy. If Zyrion is what you say, the leader is already watching him. That means we're all at risk."
Sary turned her head slightly, studying her interlocutor.
"And yet, Melithra, you're still here. Which tells me that curiosity is stronger than your survival instinct. Risk has always been our language."
Vyrellis, who until that moment had been standing apart, with her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the ground, spoke in an icy voice.
"The leader is not our enemy, but neither is he our salvation. Don't forget that. I've seen what happens when someone acts against their will. I don't want any of us to end up as an example."
Liora, sitting on a high rock, swung one leg with apparent nonchalance, although her voice was full of intensity.
"So tell me, Vyrellis, would you rather be an example of blind obedience or of bravery? Because if Zyrion is the key, as Sary says, and we let him escape... we'll be remembered as the idiots who did nothing."
Sary took a step toward the center of the circle they had formed almost instinctively. Her cloak trailed across the damp ground, leaving a dark trail.
"It's not about bravery or obedience. It's about balance. Zyrion could be the spark that awakens the old powers, or the catalyst for a war we won't be able to control. That's why we must stay close. Not to confront him, but to understand him."
Melithra smiled slightly, but her gaze remained serious.
"I'm listening, but I can't help thinking... what if the leader already knows we're planning this? What if he wants us to do it?"
Vyrellis looked up, his cold eyes searching for Sary's.
"If that's the case, we're playing a role in a script we don't know. And that makes me uncomfortable."
Liora leaned forward, a rebellious glint in her green eyes.
"Perhaps that's what we need: discomfort. A change. We've followed the same rules for decades, even centuries. Maybe Zyrion isn't just a danger... but an opportunity."
Silence enveloped the place. Only the distant sound of the wind rustling through the rocks accompanied her thoughts. Sary closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the cold seep into her skin.
"If we accept this," she said finally, her voice firm, "we accept it to the end. There will be no turning back. There will be no forgiveness. If Zyrion fails, we fail with him. If he succeeds... we will change the fate of everything we know."
Melithra stared at her for a long time before nodding.
"So, Sary, tell me: when do we start?"
A clap of thunder rumbled in the distance, and the faint light of the lightning flashed across their faces for a moment, revealing that neither of them was afraid. On the contrary, a quiet determination burned in their eyes.
"We begin now," Sary replied. "Tonight we cease to be mere pieces. Tonight, the board is ours."
The four women remained silent, aware that they had just sealed a pact that would bind them not only to each other, but to a destiny that would drag them beyond what any shadow could hide.
The White Dragon's silence is a warning.