It's real, these talking monkeys are using their power, everyone must know, they have betrayed their oath! Warn Karrus, he must know!

Note from the Western Front of Hecata.

The beast was huge, at least ten metres of muscle and feline grace, a mouth lined with fangs powerful enough to tear it apart with a single snap of the jaw and claws sharp enough to mark the stone with every step. Its coat was brown with touches of grey and white. His muscular body was covered with horrible scars, the result of the hard fighting it had done.

Leila was transfixed, both with fear and fascination at such a majestic creature, she could feel the tension in the beast's muscles, its quiet walk through the undergrowth. She knew that against such a monster she didn't stand a chance, if it ever sensed her presence it would tear her apart. She didn't want to end up in the stomach of a beast as magnificent as it was, so she made herself as small as possible, hoping with all her soul that the foliage was thick enough to hide her presence.

It didn't even occur to her to unhook her bow from her shoulder and summon one of Leomer's tears. The very idea of a fight seemed incongruous to her, she didn't stand a chance, it wasn't six days of intensive hunting in the Emerald forests that would allow her to face such raw power.

A hand gently grabbed her shoulder and with firm pressure forced her to her knees. At a glance, she recognised Zarune, her hunting companion and trainer of the arts of stalking and hunting, and to her surprise, friend.

- A Celan, she whispered in wonder. An old Celan by his coat, he must be looking for his last fight.

Leila swallowed slowly.

- No matter what, we have to get out of here if we don't want to end up in his stomach.

Zarune looked at her with a small smile on her face, but her eyes were wide.

- It's no use, I don't doubt that he sensed our presence, he must not consider us as prey worthy of his attention or he would have attacked us already.

- Ah?!

After what seemed like an eternity, the Celan, as Zarune had called him, disappeared into the undergrowth with his haughty gait. The little sunlight that reached the ground gave the scene that had played out before his eyes a mystical air.

- May Zarune is good to you in the cycle," her friend murmured.

- Excuse me?" said Leila, looking at her companion strangely.

After giving her a bewildered look, a glimmer of understanding appeared in Zarune's eyes.

- It is a prayer to the goddess of life and death for those whose lives are ending. After a little hesitation, she added, "It is in her honour that my parents named me Zarune.

- I see," Leila said slowly. But why were you praying, he looked fit enough to kill us without much effort.

- Celans are proud animals," she replied respectfully. When a Celan feels he is on the wane he goes in search of an opponent powerful enough to end his life. To die in front of an old Celan in search of his last fight is a great honour.

- What, why?

- The Celan is one of the most dangerous creatures in Sa, and when he goes for his last fight he only chooses opponents who are worthy to face him. If you die in front of such a being, it is because he has recognised you as dangerous and powerful enough to be his opponent.

- And you have no choice but to die in this situation? Leila ironized.

- No one has ever survived a fight with an old Celan, at best you take it with you in the cycle. If a Celan is old enough to feel his decline, it's because he never lost a fight... It's the dream of every self-respecting Eldar to fight a Celan with equal weapons.

After a last dreamy look towards the direction where the beast had disappeared, Zarune added;

- Come on, let's go back, with a Celan around, there's little chance of finding a game today.

This thought made Leila realize something.

- What are you doing here? We said that we would split up today to see who could catch the best prey and that we would meet again in Irvanon.

The young Eldar's face froze and for a moment Leila thought she wasn't going to answer him.

- I came to warn you, my father has returned from his pilgrimage to Tyrlaon.

After a moment of silence, Leila asked uncertainly.

- And that's a bad thing.

Zarune, her face still frozen, seemed to be searching for words.

- You know how most of us treat humans, there is a lot of hatred and prejudice against them, we still haven't forgiven you for the destruction of our empire and my father is no exception. If my mother had not intervened you would have been executed as soon as you arrived in the Emerald Kingdom. My father... My father is everything an Eldar wants to be, proud and uncompromising.

After these last words, the two girls continued their journey in silence. Leila remembered the last six days spent roaming the Emerald forests, in search of freedom but above all to escape the stifling atmosphere of the Eldar capital.

Her comrades could handle the disdain and hatred displayed by most of its inhabitants, but she was unable to. It would seem that their very existence is an insult to them. Even although they were content to show their contempt without seeking to quarrel with them, Leila had preferred to get as far away from the city and its inhabitants as possible, so when Zarune had offered to introduce her to hunting she had jumped at the chance.

At first, killing other living creatures had seemed like horror without a name, but when she had seen the respect Zarune had for her prey and the reality of her way of life, she had put things into perspective; she was not a vegetarian, so did she imagine that the good steaks her mother prepared for her came from nowhere? Although the truth is that she was more interested in hunting than killing and that she was beginning to enjoy game meat, which had much more flavour than the industrial food she was used to.

But above all what attracted her was the mysteries hidden in this new world, she still found it hard to accept but in reality, she felt free for the first time. Of course, she missed her family and was anxious to get home, but she intended to look on the bright side and enjoy this new adventure while she could.

So to forget her worries, to forget her nightmares, she had started to wander in the forests, learning everything Zarune wanted to teach her about the art of hunting, stalking, this world and a thousand and one other things, some as simple as how to make a fire in the forest with the minimum available or specific to this world, such as how to use the marvellous bow that Zarune had entrusted her with, Dune Fallen.

This was no ordinary bow, it was an artefact, made by a god according to Zarune, although she remained puzzled by this. Were the gods the Eldar named like the gods of her world? The way the men had named the powers of nature they could not understand? The manifestations of force that they did not understand? Or did it have a more concrete, physical manifestation? Given her new experience in this world, she did not want to rule out any possibilities, so it was with caution that she handled Dune Fallen.

What made Dune Fallen so unique was its ability to attract the filaments of the weave. It served as a vector for the weave. In practical terms, she was not manipulating the weave as Aurora or Jonah had explained to them, that was Dune Fallen's role, but Leila was simply instilling the will necessary for change. She didn't understand what she was doing, she was just doing what Zarune had told her to do, which was to infuse Dune Fallen with her will and then form it into an arrow capable of taking down a galloping deer at a hundred meters.

Of course, she couldn't do that on the first try it had taken her three days to shape her arrow and another two days to get comfortable enough to shoot it. Even so, Zarune was shocked at how long it had taken her to get to this point. Of course, it would have been easier to use normal arrows, but Leila knew how to be stubborn when she wanted to and she didn't regret her efforts. Now it seemed so natural. And above all it allowed her to shoot the bow in a much more fluid and rapid way than if she had to take her arrows from a quiver on her hip, which was still less cumbersome.

Add to that the intensive courses she had to master a specific form of weaving that allowed her to make herself faster and stronger and she had a busy day. Although on this side it was still not a success unlike Jonah who had easily assimilated this form, he felt like a superman from what he told her. All this according to the Eldar was to help them master their prism, for Leila it didn't matter what their reason was on this point, it made her stronger and that's all that mattered to her.

In addition to this learning, the presence of her companions was a great support. She didn't think she would have been able to handle her situation with composure if she had been alone. Every evening, she and her fellow students would gather in the common room of their dormitory to tell each other about their day and what they had learned. They had quickly realized that to survive in this new world they needed to gather as much information as possible, so each of them was more or less specialized in a field-specific to their new life. Aurora and Jonah were concentrating on the mystical arts, Leila didn't understand all of what they were doing and wasn't interested in it, but it was an area that was unique to this world and had a great influence on the way of life of its inhabitants, so they needed to know as much as possible.

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Mustapha, who was the most socially adept of them all, had chosen the difficult task of trying to sympathise with the citizens of Irvanon, an objective with mixed results, if he had little success with the adult Eldar he seemed to have a lot of success with the young Eldar, the youngest in fact, for among the inhabitants those with the most animosity towards the young humans were the adolescent Eldar. The older Eldar present were content to ignore them, while those whose ages were close to those of Leila and her companions clearly showed their antipathy. The younger ones, on the other hand, seemed to be in the grip of greatest curiosity that Mustapha delighted in responding to with ardour.

Of course, their parents were doing everything they could to keep them away from the young humans, but as most of the adults in this part of the city were away at war, there were not enough of them to keep a constant eye on them, a moment that Mustapha used to create a network of small spies of questionable usefulness.

Marie, for her part, spent most of her time at the bedside of poor Lucas, whose situation had not changed. She had the greatest difficulty in adapting to their new situation and stubbornly refused to leave the wing of the palace that had been allocated to them.

As for Mat, his occupation was a mystery, of all the Earthmen present he was the only one not to open up about these adventures, the more time passed and the more his eyes darkened to the point where he seemed to give off a palpable aura of danger. He rarely ate his meals with them and gave no news. The only times she saw it was when they were trained in this form of weaving that increased their physical capacity. And in those moments he gave himself over to his training in such a way that he was completely unaware of his surroundings.

Finally, after almost an hour's long walk, they arrived at the edge of the city, and on the way to the palace, Zarune gave Leila advice on how to behave in the presence of her father and his warriors.

- The best thing to do is to avoid them as much as possible while they are here, as they will soon be leaving. They can't stay away from the front for very long.

- So why come here? You told me that it takes at least two weeks to get from the front to the capital. They will be gone for a long time then.

Embarrassed, Zarune took her time to answer.

- You know why... It's because you're here. They want to see if you are ready.

Immediately Leila's face darkened.

- I see," she said without emotion.

For the past fifteen days, they have not only been doing their various activities, but they have also had what Leila calls, if nothing else, sensory training. Once a day when they woke up and for several hours, Lenaël gathered them to learn to master their prism, but rather than mastering something, Leila had the impression that it was a method of meditation and relaxation like many others in their world. It was a search for understanding their bodies and their external and internal environment.

Leila had never done anything so boring. Fortunately, they followed up with the weaving training immediately afterwards.

- Frankly, I don't know what we've been doing that's prepared us for what's been asked of us... All we've been doing is sitting around waiting, I'm sure I even heard Mousse snoring once.

- Well," Zarune hesitated. I don't know much about it, but I'm sure Lenaël knows what he's doing. And then," she added, flames lighting up in her eyes. At least you're being prepared to do something. They don't want me to join the war effort. The others and I are old enough and trained enough to participate!

- If you want to go to war, I'll gladly give you my place," Leila said bitterly.

Zarune gave a crooked smile and replied in a spiteful whisper.

- If it were possible I would have done it.

*

Mat sat down heavily on a low ruined wall, his chest still gasping from the effort he had just made. He'd been training for nearly six hours straight and the fatigue of days of the intense exercise was beginning to show.

That's not enough, he thought. More, I can do more.

Ragingly he got up, picked up his training sword and began to strike again, following the movements he had meticulously copied from the other students during the time he was still allowed to observe the young Eldar's weapons training. Since then, everything from the sword to the complex movement to the armour of hardened leather and blackened plate had been the result of theft and plunder, or at least of what was not deemed valuable enough to prevent him from taking them. By circulating the weaving strands in his blood, in his muscles and on his skin he speeds up, fast, even faster.

The last fifteen days had brought Mat back in touch with his past, the stifling atmosphere, the bullying, the deprivation and above all the hatred, all bitterly reminding him of his childhood.

But secretly Mat was rejoicing, he had enjoyed a simple and gentle life for far too long, a life that he had found difficult to grasp, to understand and even less to enjoy. At least now he was on familiar ground, the worst that the soul can know. And even compared to what he had experienced it was a walk in the park.

A small smile began to float across his lips. It was good to get back to the effort, he had let himself go too long, but above all to have a goal, an objective to reach. This one was still nebulous, but Mat knew that at last, he was on the path he had always wanted. So he spared no effort, from the moment he woke up to the moment he slept, he went deep into the forest until he was no longer disturbed by anything other than the sound of nature's, even if they were peculiar. And he would train until his muscles were on fire until fatigue made him fall into unconsciousness until he could do nothing but drag himself back to his room. Even in this state of fatigue, as always, he found it difficult to fall asleep, his nightmares were always there waiting for him, reminding him of what he had lost. The only time he was with others was during those stupid mediation moments he was forced to take part in, otherwise only his training mattered.

When he struck it was the face of those who had created him that he saw and it was with eagerness that he resumed training.

When a noise sounded, Mat turned around, an instinct imprinted in his soul came out and his face seemed to sink.

He didn't know what that face was, but it must have been impressive enough for him to want to wear it on command, for all who faced it cowered in terror.

Unfortunately, this mask only came when the blind rage he hid deep within him and controlled with the same tense concentration as a man riding a raging bull was released. Different from the cold rage that never left him completely this one was as hot as the sun and as inexorable as a lava flow. And it was with immeasurable effort that he stopped his movement two inches from the throat of the young Eldar who had interrupted his training.

- Caem, he said only in a cold tone, still turned around by the effort he had made to hold his arm.

The small Eldar, already not very tall, seemed to cower even more in terror, tucking his head into his shoulders he looked at the blade of the single-edged sword slightly bent, eyes wide with horror. Slowly moving his eyes up the sword to its owner, he froze unable to look into the eyes of the man whose very presence terrorized him.

Slowly, Mat withdrew the blade from his neck and waited for Caem to reveal the reason for his presence.

After several failed attempts Caem finally succeeded in announcing in a small voice the reason for his presence.

- You are needed at the palace. Lord Daelmar has arrived in Irvanon and you are all expected to be presented to him.

After a few moments of heavy silence, Mat replied with an inexpressive face:

- I follow you.

*

With his index finger pointing he created a ring of air, on his middle finger he created a ring of fire, on his little finger a ring of water and on his thumb a ring of earth, as he concentrated on creating a ring of light on his little finger - the most difficult - Aurora tapped his hand and slowly released the weave so that his hand would not be shredded.

- Stop it, she hissed at him. If Lenaël sees you showing off like this he will refuse to continue teaching you.

Confused, Jonah blushed, weaving the threads now seemed so easy that he did it without thinking. He was sitting in an anteroom waiting for them to be called and out of boredom, he had unconsciously started to weave. Cautiously he looked around to see if he had been seen doing it and if his weaving had had any impact on his surroundings. He could not yet do much more than these small effects of light, but it seemed to him after a two week of study so easy that he was eager to delve a little deeper into these mysteries.

Almost all his companions were present, only Lucas who was still confined to his room and Mat who seemed to revel in being late at everything was absent.

Aurora and he had arrived first and the wait was beginning to weigh on them, they were in Lenaël's study room, debating with their friend Eldar the best way to deal with a Virendi straightening when Lenaël had arrived at full speed to lead them to this antechamber where they were asked to wait. Then came Marie, Mustapha and then Leila with her new friend. Jonah wasn't sure if he should be happy or worried about the closeness that had developed between Leila and princess Eldar. When he had tried to talk to her about it, she had rebuffed him violently, so he didn't dare bring up the issue again, but he was worried nonetheless.

Not that friendship with the Eldar was a bad thing in itself, he had befriended some of his comrades while studying weaving, some even took him to train with them in the mastery of their sword thrower, the weapon of choice of the palace guards, but he didn't want her to forget the precarious situation they were in. And from the little he had known of this Eldar princess, even if he didn't doubt her sincerity, he was also certain that she wouldn't hesitate to kill them if he became a threat to her Mother's project concerning them.

While he was at this point in his reflections Mat finally arrived following the young Caem. Once he had delivered his package, the child left in a hurry.

Jonah raised his eyebrows at his dark companion to ask him where he was, but Mat ignored him before leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. The more the days passed the more unsympathetic he became, Jonah had thought at the beginning of their arrival that he was beginning to lighten up but then he closed up and rejected any contact Jonah had tried to make with him.

Jonah sighed, what a bunch of broken arms we have, he thought wearily. He didn't know what the future held, but he doubted more and more that he could trust his companions. No. As soon as he had this thought he crushed it with force. He frowned violently, trust is not given it is created. Jonah was determined to hold this little band of companions together no matter how difficult their personalities were. Just as he was about to get up to motivate his troops, an Eldar entered the antechamber.

It was the same man who had accompanied them in silence when they arrived at the palace a week ago. Craemerte, as Jonah had learned, was the Commander-in-Chief of the Silver Shields, the guards whose prerogative was the security of the Imperial Palace. Commander-in-Chief of the Silver Shields but himself a member of the House of Silent Guards, as one of his friend Eldar, he had told him in the whisper of a man enjoying a particularly tasty scandal. To this day Jonah still hadn't understood why.

When he entered, the already stifling silence became chilling. He glanced at the eight silver shields stationed in the room before turning his attention to the young humans. After watching them in silence for a few seconds he spoke, the first time Jonah had heard him speak.

- You are to be presented to the empire today, the choice you have been offered must be made now. Those who do not wish to serve, come forward to me.

The words sent a cold chill through Jonah's veins. They were not ready.

- You mean those who wish to die?" growled Mat in anger." What choice is that?

With a look of hatred, he took a step forward. The commander-in-chief of the Silver Shields looked at him calmly and said in an unruffled tone.

- A man's choice.

Mat lost all trace of emotion on his face and took another step. Jonah had never smelled the smell of death more accurately than at that moment. He stood up.

- We all agree to serve.

His voice echoed through the antechamber with strength and certainty. He looked calmly at Mat, who watched him in silence for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. Then he stepped back and leaned calmly against the wall.

- Well, get ready," Craemerte said calmly, as if nothing unusual had happened, before turning and leaving.