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Chapter VII

The rain was raging outside and tree branches were throwing themselves against the broken windows of the shack. In fact, it looked more like a hovel about to collapse. Dust and grime were accumulated on the furniture and floor. Scraps of unidentifiable food were rotting on the kitchen table, in dirty pots and pans. Aliena couldn't hold back a look of disgust.

She took a step forward into the room, noticing a man sitting in a gutted old armchair in front of the hearth of the extinguished fireplace. He was thin, very, very thin. His skin pale, his hair matted with dirt, and his dark eyes looked in opposite directions. She didn't know who he was, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know. His physical appearance put her off.

Suddenly, knocking sounded against the door, attracting both her and the man's attention. The door opened with a sinister creak, before slamming against the opposite wall with the wind, and Aliena's heart missed a beat. Tom stood in the doorway, wand in hand, his hair and long coat wet from the storm outside. He entered the shack without an ounce of hesitation.

For a few seconds, the two men looked at each other silently, then everything happened very quickly. The man leapt to his feet, brandishing both a wand in one hand and a short knife in the other.

"You !" the man spit. "You filthy muggle !"

He lunged at Tom, who reacted quickly and overpowered the wizard with ease. He grabbed him by the collar of his dirty, holey shirt and pinned him against the wall. Tom hissed something through his teeth and the man froze in place, startled, his eyes wide. Words were exchanged between them, or rather, whistles. Aliena couldn't make any sense of it, couldn't make out a single word, and frowned. A bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the scene before her eyes, as well as the dead snake nailed to the open door, which swayed in the wind. And that's when she understood.

Parseltongue.

They were speaking in parseltongue, the language of snakes.

She knew that Tom was a parselmouth. She had heard him speak it in one of her previous visions. It was a very uncommon skill and was known to be an almost exclusively hereditary trait. Which meant —

Her mouth went dry. The most famous parselmouth was none other than Salazar Slytherin. The young woman felt an shiver run up her spine as she realised what this meant. She had already understood it in fact, but had refused to think about it, to think about the consequences. Tom was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, that's why he spoke parseltongue and was able to control the basilisk. But what about the other man ? Was it the same for him ? Was he a descendant of Slytherin too ?

Aliena caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, causing her to lose her train of thought.

Tom slowly lowered his wand, then stepped back from the man.

"You're not Marvolo. Where is he ?" Tom finally asked.

"Dead," answered the other man "He died years ago."

Tom's jaw contracted slightly, a sign of his growing annoyance.

"Who are you, then ?"

"Morfin." he said.

“Marvolo’s son ?”

Morfin nodded as he pushed a lock of dirty hair back from his forehead.

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EXTRAIT - Chapitre XIV

Lance lui rendit son regard noir et elle prit sur elle pour ne pas flancher devant la puissance de ses iris bleus polaires. Elle ressentit leur froideur jusque dans ses os, et même jusque dans le tréfonds de son âme. Elle avait presque l’impression qu’il aurait pu la changer en statue de glace et qu’elle devait uniquement son salut au feu ardent qui brûlait dans ses veines. Elle finit par se redresser et tourna les talons, ignorant les appels de Lance dans son dos.

« Où tu vas Sorcière ? On n’a pas fini. »

Elle grimpa une première marche, avant de se figer brusquement. Un objet tranchant entra dans son champ de vision et vint s’enfoncer avec fracas dans l’une des poutres en bois de l’escalier. Feyra jeta un coup d’oeil sur le côté. Une dague, dont le pommeau était décoré d’un rubis rouge sang, se situait à seulement quelques centimètres de sa tête. Elle écarquilla les yeux, puis se retourna. Lance était légèrement penché sur le bureau, la paume de sa main gauche posée en appui dessus, tandis que l’autre avait rejoint l’alignement de son corps au niveau de sa cuisse.

« Tu es malade ou quoi ?! À quoi tu joues ?

_ Calme-toi, lui intima son chef de garde.

_ Que je me calme ? Tu as failli me—

_ Si j’avais voulu te blesser, la coupa-t-il, devinant sans grand mal les mots qu’elle allait prononcer. Je l’aurais fait. Je ne loupe jamais ma cible, et ce n’est pas de la vantardise. C’est un fait. »

Lance contourna le bureau. Il s’y appuya nonchalamment et croisa les bras contre son buste.

« Si tu trouves à redire sur mes méthodes, tu peux toujours aller pleurer dans les jupes de Miiko. Je serais curieux de savoir ce qu’elle dira et de voir si ta parole a plus de valeur que la mienne, asséna-t-il avec raideur avant d’indiquer la dague du menton. Et la prochaine fois qu’il te prendra l’envie de me refaire ton petit numéro, je ne me contenterais pas de viser à côté. C’est toi que je viserais, alors ne me donne pas une bonne raison de le faire car je n’attends que ça. »

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❝ And why was he so quick to help you, eh ?"

"Maybe, because, he's not as bad as you think ?" I reply sharply.

Roy snarls.

"And anyway, it's my private life. It's nobody's business but mine. And it's not against the law to go out with someone, is it ?"

"No, but we're talking about Jason, not just anyone."

I roll my eyes and head for the break room, not bothering to reply. But Roy doesn't give up and follows close behind.

"You're hiding something Ysa. You wouldn't be acting like this if you weren't."

"Alright, you want to know ?" I spin around, almost hitting him. "I slept with Jason, are you happy now ? It was just a one-night thing, nothing more. I made a mistake and it won't happen again. But then again, it's my private life, it's none of your business."

"Actually, I think it's kind of my business," says a deep, cocky voice to my right.

I freeze in place. I feel my breath catch in my throat and I'm pretty sure that all the colour in my face has disappeared. No, no, it can't be. I turn my head. Jason's there — what's he doing here ?! ❞

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EXTRAIT - Chapitre XII

La jeune femme retint un soupir, serra des poings, puis se dirigea vers Lance en traînant des pieds. À mesure qu’elle approchait, les gardiens s’éloignèrent pour la laisser seule avec le chef de garde. Elle croisa Valkyon, qui lui adressa un faible sourire et lui tapota amicalement l’épaule avant de continuer sa route. Il ne prononça aucun mot, mais il n’en avait pas besoin. Elle avait parfaitement compris le message : elle allait passer un sale quart d’heure. Elle s’en était douté, s’y était même préparée, et pourtant, l’espace d’un instant, elle regretta d’être venue à l’entraînement et de s’être jetée elle-même dans la gueule du loup.

Les mains jointes dans le dos, elle se posta devant Lance. Elle baissa légèrement les yeux, et attendit.

« Bien dormi ? » demanda-t-il, et elle perçut sans grand mal le ton ironique qui perçait sa voix.

Feyra dégluti, prenant sur elle pour ne pas lui jeter un regard noir, ni répondre à sa pique. Elle ne lui ferait pas ce plaisir, elle savait qu’il n’attendait que ça. Quoi qu’il n’en avait pas besoin. S’il voulait une raison pour l’exclure de la garde obsidienne, ou l’assigner aux corvées de la cuisine, il avait le prétexte tout trouvé. Elle le lui avait servi sur un plateau d’argent.

« À propos d’hier …

_ La prochaine fois, je te rendrai moi-même coup pour coup avant de te jeter dans l’une des cellules de la prison, histoire que ça te passe l’envie de recommencer. C’est clair ? » la coupa-t-il, son ton était aussi dur et froid que la glace.

Elle se contenta d’acquiescer en silence.

« Que ça te serve de leçon. La prochaine fois, je ne serai pas aussi clément. Au prochain écart de ce genre, tu vires. Et saches que ce je viens de dire est valable pour tout le monde, y compris Belius. Maintenant file. »

Feyra tourna aussitôt les talons. Elle avait fait à peine trois pas lorsque la voix grave du chef de garde retentit de nouveaux à ses oreilles, mais avec moins d’agressivité que d’habitude.

« Une dernière chose Sorcière. »

Elle lui lança un regard par-dessus son épaule.

« Joli coup. » dit-il, un léger rictus courbant le coin de ses lèvres.

Feyra écarquilla les yeux. Est-ce que c’était un compliment ? Est-ce que Lance venait vraiment de lui faire un compliment - ou quelque chose qui y ressemblait - alors qu’il n’avait cessé de lui faire des reproches depuis son arrivée ? Il ne lui laissa pas le temps de se poser plus de questions, ou même de les formuler à haute voix, car il s’éloignait déjà. Et pendant tout ce temps où il marcha entre les différents groupes de gardien, elle fut incapable de détacher son regard ambré de lui.

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𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍 as 𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐍

in the lord of the rings: fellowship of the ring.

[ruuu-by]

Chapter VI

She heard the door crack below, followed by footsteps on the stairs, and leapted to her feet. She grabbed her wand and pointed it straight ahead. Tom came into her field of vision, and stopped as he noticed her wand pointed at him. He frowned.

“Calm down, it's just me.”

Perhaps that was what worrying her most. It was him.

She finally lowered her wand, but kept it close at hand all the same.

“You're late," she said with an accusatory voice.

“And yet, you're still here," his lips curled into a smirk. “So, what did you want to talk about ?”

Tom walked toward her.

“You know about what," Aliena said impatiently. “I want you to answer my questions.”

"Only if you answer mine first. What do you know ? "

He stopped a few inches from her, looking straight into her eyes. She straightened her head.

“I know what you did. I know it's you."

"Who did what exactly ? Can you be more specific ?"

"Who's responsible for the muggles-born attack two years ago. That it was you who killed that girl in the bathroom," she spat.

Tom let out a cold laugh. He shook his head, plunging his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Well, technically it's not me."

"Your basilick did it for you."

Tom suddenly turned his attention back to her. He remained silent for a few moments, watching her fixedly. She felt trapped by his black eyes, and didn't dare move. A dark thought crossed her mind, giving her goose bumps. What if he thought she knew too much ? That she was a risk and not worth it ? What if he decided to throw her off the astronomy tower ? Aliena wasn't even sure she could stop him and tightened unconsciously her grip around the wrought-iron railing, the cold metal burning her bare hand.

"Impressive … " Tom finally blurted out. "What else ?"

"Stop it," she clicked her tongue against her palate in annoyance. "Tell me now. Tell me why you need me. What do you want from me ?"

"You really have no idea, do you ?"

She almost wanted to slap him and make him swallow his smug look. But instead of that, she gritted her teeth.

Then, Tom took his hands out of his pockets and removed the black ring he was wearing.

"Do you know what it is ?" he finally asked, showing it to her more closely.

She frozed.

"A stupid ring ?" she managed to ask.

"I'm pretty sure you can do better."

"A stupid hideous ring that means anything to you ?"

"What do you know about horcrux ?"

At least he didn't beat about the bush. She crossed slowly her arms against her chest.

"If your question is : do I know that you're planning to do some - or have already done - and that you've asked Slughorn about it ? Then the answer is yes."

"I'm beginning to think you're obsessed with me, Bletchey."

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❝ Well, I guess this is where the gentleman says goodbye, right ?" I ask, turning my keys in the lock.

Jason snorts, just before biting the inside of his cheek.

"That depends. Do you really want me to leave ?" he muses.

No. Of course no.

"What if I don't ?" I tease him.

"Then I wouldn't," Jason answers quickly and my heart misses a beat.

I shake my head, shaking a few strands of hair from my shoulders in a vain attempt to regain my composure. Above all, I pray that the redness that colours my hot cheeks doesn't show too much.

"Thanks for tonight, it was really great. Not so bad for our second date." I say it as casually as possible.

"Second, huh ?"

"That's what you said the other day, that you were counting it as a date. I wouldn't want to prove you wrong." I insist, a little amused.

"Of course you wouldn’t.❞

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[ruuu-by]

Chapter V

"Don't even try to play with me. I know what you are."

She frowned, hesitating. Aliena had a choice, she could continue to deny it, playing the perfect little fool - even though there was little chance of him believing her - or she could confront him on his own ground. Stupidly, she chose the second option, going exactly where Tom wanted to take her.

"And I know what you are too. What you've done."

"Good. We can play cards on the table then," he replied, sinking a little further into his chair, in a nonchalant and deceptively relaxed posture that was totally out of character for him.

"How do you know it ?" she finally asked, squinting suspiciously.

No one had expressed the slightest doubt, the slightest suggestion. Absolutely nobody knew. Nobody.

And yet, Tom had found out her secret in less few weeks ? Impossible.

"It's make me time to discover it, I admit it. But now, it's so obvious. I wonder how I managed not to see it sooner. Everything was just in front on me since the beginning."

"What do you want ?" she snarled, almost spitting out the words.

"I told you, I think you be useful. You can help me."

The tension in the room rose a notch, becoming palpable. Aliena could almost hear the air vibrating around them. Their eyes were locked on each other, and it would be the first to look down who lost.

"What makes you think I'm going to help you ?"

"Intuition."

"I don't think you need me. You seem to be doing very well on your own," she breathed, coldly.

He suddenly seemed interested and leaned a little more towards the table — More towards her. He crossed his hands under his chin. Like this, he gave her the impression of a snake staring at its prey, just before pouncing on it to strike.

"What exactly do you know ? Or rather, what do you think you know ?"

"Enough to get you locked up in Azkaban for the rest of your life," she threatened.

A small smirk appeared on his lips. The next thing she knew, invisible claws were closing around her skull. She flinched slightly at the violence of the attempted intrusion into her mind, but stood her ground. She focused hard on guarding her mental barriers in place. Tom's smile faded immediately and she saw him bite the inside of his cheek.

"How long have you been an Occlumens ?"

"I'd say about as long as you are a Legilimens."

She glared deadly at him.

"I'll have to find another way to get you to talk then. Don't worry, I'll figure it out. You may not know it yet, but you’ll find I can be very ... Persuasive," he rolled the last word over his tongue like a promise.

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EXTRAIT - Chapitre IX

« À ton tour Sorcière. »

Elle se raidit, échangea un dernier regard avec Sirius qui lui souffla un « bonne chance » silencieux, avant de se diriger vers le centre du cercle. Feyra sentit un poids tomber dans son estomac. Lorsqu’elle avait été convoquée dans la salle du cristal par la garde étincelante, elle avait eu l’impression de marcher tout droit vers une nouvelle prison. Mais maintenant, elle avait l’impression de marcher droit vers sa tombe et de la creuser elle-même. Elle s’arrêta à quelques mètres de Lance, non sans lui jeter une œillade assassine.

« J’ai un nom je te signale. C’est Feyra. »

Elle accentua le dernier mot. Elle n’avait jamais relevé l’insulte jusqu’à présent, car c’en était une. Les sorcières avaient mauvaise réputation - encore plus que les infernis - en partie parce qu’elles s’étaient alliées aux daemons suite à leur refus de participer au Sacrifice Bleu. Elles avaient longtemps étaient craintes à cause de leur pratique interdite de la magie noire. Mais même leur magie n’avait pu les protéger de l’extermination et aujourd’hui, elles étaient considérées comme éteintes.

« Je sais, mais je préfère Sorcière, le chef de garde esquissa un rictus qui la fit frissonner. Je trouve que ça te va mieux. »

Feyra fronça les sourcils, se retenant de faire le moindre commentaire.

« Mets-toi en position, lui intima-t-elle. Prouve moi que mon frère ne perd pas son temps avec toi et que tu vaux quelque chose sans tes pouvoirs. »

La jeune femme s’exécuta, serra avec force la garde de son épée entre ses mains, puis prit une profonde inspiration. Elle eut à peine le temps de cligner des yeux que Lance se jeta sur elle. Elle ne sut par quel miracle elle para son attaque qui visait son épaule gauche. Elle fut la première surprise lorsque leurs armes se rencontrèrent dans un crissement strident. Ils n’avaient jamais été aussi proches et elle n’aimait pas ça. Lance pencha la tête sur le côté, faisant bouger des mèches de cheveux blancs sur son front.

« Tu sembles nerveuse.

_ Non, c’est juste que je ne t’aime pas. » assura-t-elle en donnant un coup contre son épée.

Menteuse.

Sa bouche était aussi sèche que du papier de verre. Elle avait l’impression que tout son corps tremblait et que Lance captait le moindre de ses frissons avec son regard de glace.

« Tu apprendras. Mais sache que la réciproque est vraie. »

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Chaol: This is my wife Yrene, she’s a healer.

Dorian: This is my wife Manon Blackbeak-

Chaol: The White Demon?

Dorian: Actually, she’s Queen of the Witches now.

Manon: I’m a reverse healer.

Chaol:

Yrene:

Manon: You know, because I kill people.

Chaol: I-

Yrene: I like her.

Dorian: I know right?

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❝ There you are, love. I've been looking everywhere for you.”

I blink while Jason appears at my side. What's he up to ? I try to find the answer in his magnetic blue eyes, which are fixed on me.

Ioan clears his throat, drawing our attention.

“I don't believe we've been introduced, I'm Ioan Mullioz.” he says, holding out his hand in front of him.

Jason looks him up and down, before shaking his hand, lips pursed. “Jason Mendal.”

“Mendal, like the Goldreamz's CEO ?”

“Exactly.”

Ioan turns a calculating gaze on me. “I see,” he hummed. “You definitely have a type Ysaline.“

“She doesn't.” replies Jason, in an authoritative tone that leaves no room for discussion. “I'm a busy person, but also a loyal one. Not the kind of man who needs several women at his feet to spice up his life because he's bored. ❞

AO3 

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Aelin: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.

Lorcan: I almost died. 

Aelin: That... was my favorite memory.

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EXTRAIT - Chapitre VIII

« Je ne sais pas à quel jeu tu joues Valkyon, mais arrêtes tout de suite. »

C’était la voix de Lance, aussi froide et dure que la glace. Elle se maudit intérieurement, de toutes les personnes qu’elle ne voulait pas croiser ce soir, il figurait tout en haut de la liste.

« C’est toi qui devrais arrêter. Elle n’est pas une menace pour nous, alors admets-le et arrête de te comporter comme un salaud avec elle. Je lui donne juste un coup de main, c’est tout. Rien de plus.

_ En quoi est-ce que tu l’aides exactement ? Qu’est-ce que tu vas faire ? Lui apprendre à cracher du feu ? siffla son frère, mauvais. Elle n’a pas besoin de toi pour ça, je parie qu’elle sait très bien le faire toute seule.

_ Elle n’a pas demandé à être ici. Si ça te dérange tant que ça qu’elle fasse partie de la garde, tu n’avais qu’à voter pour l’envoyer en prison.

_ Parce que tu crois que ce n’est pas ce que j’ai fait ? » répliqua Lance, acide.

Connard.

Ils parlaient d’elle. Elle n’en était pas sûre au début, mais maintenant, le doute n’était plus permis. Il n’y avait aucun autre gardien qui avait échappé de peu à la prison, et dont la présence pouvait être source de conflit entre les deux frères.

Des bruits de pas attirèrent son attention et Feyra eut juste le temps de se cacher derrière l’une des colonnes en marbre avant que les deux gardiens ne fassent irruption dans le hall. Elle pressa sa main avec force contre sa bouche pour s’empêcher de faire le moindre bruit.

« Garde tes distances Valkyon, ne t’approche plus d’elle. Et ce n’est pas un conseil, c’est un ordre. »

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[ruuu-by]

Chapter IV

"Bletchey and Riddle."

Aliena held back a sigh.

Of course he did it. Slughorn hadn’t been able to resist putting together his two best students.

"Lucky girl," Elaine purred with a mischevilious winke.

"We can switch if you want," she snarled.

"And deprive this poor Slughorn of the pleasure of seeing his two best students together ? By Salazar Slytherin, I wouldn't dare !" Elaine said, placing a hand over her heart, pretending.

Aliena rolled her eyes, then looked towards the table occupied by Tom a little further on. The other students were already gathering their things and joining their partners, but he didn't move though. He wouldn't, she knew it. It was up to her to move. She gritted her teeth and joined him, dragging one's feet. She hesitated for a long time to throw her bag on the workbench to show her displeasure.

"Don't make that face Bletchey, it doesn’t suit you. Besides, everyone would love to be in your shoes. With me, it's the best grade guaranteed," Tom grinned.

"I don't need you to get a good grade," she replied, stung to the quick.

"No, that's true. But I didn't expect any less from a future mediwizard. That's still what you want to do after graduating, isn't it ?"

She lifted her eyes to him, surprised. How did he know ? She had spoken to Slughorn about her desire to become a mediwizard in fifth year, and in view of her results, he had strongly encouraged her in that direction. Since then, he would sometimes make a comment in class when she passed one of the potions with flying colours : "Well done, Miss Bletchey, but that's not surprising coming from a talented future mediwizard".  It was anecdotal. And yet, Tom had held it back ?

Aliena nodded all the same, lips pursed, then chose to seize the perch that he had unwillingly handed to her.

"And what about you ? What are your plans after Hogwarts ?"

"I'm still thinking about it," he shrugged.

She frowned slighly. Thinking about what ? To murder other people ?

"Sure," she replied, looking him in the eyes.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her slightly condescending tone.

"Excuse me ?"

"I'm sure that, given your prestigious results," she pressed deliberately her words. "You're spoilt for choice in terms of your future. You'll drown in job offers after graduating."

He didn't answer, but she saw the features of his face harden lightly. He moved, and a glint on his left hand caught her attention. He was wearing a gold ring with a dark stone and it clicked in her head. "An heirloom gold ring, setting with a large, black stone." It was the ring she had seen in her dream. She knew it was important to him, but she didn't know how much. The rest was still hazy in her mind, just waiting to come out, but she didn't want to take another scrying potion. Not now, not so soon after the last one. She still shuddered at the memory of the ravenclaw girl's lifeless body. And sometimes, she felt like the basilisk was following her down the corridors, ready to attack. She could almost hear its high-pitched, menacing hissing in her ears.

Aliena shook her head. This was not the time to be thinking about that, not when she was less than a meter from the source of her visions. From Tom.

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[ruuu-by]

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

as mirrors of one another when apart.

[ruuu-by]

EXTRAIT - Chapitre IV

« C’est pour quoi faire ?

_ Pour déterminer quelle garde tu vas intégrer. Ton sang va réagir avec le feu, enfin c'est ce qui se passe normalement. J'avoue que je n'ai jamais fait ça avec un inferni avant aujourd'hui. Il se pourrait que ça ne se passe pas ... Peu importe. Il faut juste quelques gouttes de sang. »

Il fit un geste en direction de la lame qu'elle tenait dans ses mains. Feyra jeta un regard vers l'estrade, cherchant les prunelles chaleureuses et amicales de Nevra. Elle le vit hocher la tête, l'invitant à poursuivre. Elle prit alors une profonde inspiration et entailla superficiellement sa paume. Elle plaça ensuite son poing serré juste au-dessus du foyer et des flammes apparurent à la seconde où son sang entra en contact avec les braises. Mais elles n'avaient rien de normal, elles étaient aussi noires et sombres que la nuit. Feyra lança un regard alarmé à l'homme à ses côtés. Elle n'avait rien fait, elle n'y était pour rien.

« Je n'ai rien fait, ce n'est pas moi.

_ Je sais, c'est normal, la rassura-t-il avant de se tourner vers les autres. Garde obsidienne.

_ Quoi ? C'est une blague ? » vociféra une voix grave et rauque.

L'homme aux cheveux blancs posa un regard froid et hostile sur elle. Elle le dévisagea. Il était grand, plus que tout les autres faeries regroupés sur l'estrade qu'il dépassait d'au moins une tête. Il portait une armure grise aux reflets argentés qui lui seyait atrocement bien, faisant ressortir les muscles de son torse et de ses bras. Des mèches de cheveux retombaient sur son front, mais pas assez pour dissimuler les deux cicatrices qui barraient son nez et le haut de sa joue droite. Mais ce qui retint le plus son attention, ce furent ses yeux, d'un bleu glacial, presque mordant, qui la transperçait de part en part. Feyra déglutit, et se rendit compte seulement maintenant qu'elle avait arrêté de respirer.

« C'est toi qui la ramènes ici, mais c'est moi qui vais devoir me la coltiner ? »

Il s'était tourné vers le vampire, rompant tout contact visuel avec elle.

« De quoi tu te plains Lance ? Elle n'est pas désagréable à regarder. » répondit celui-ci.

La jeune femme fronça les sourcils. Il parlait d'elle là ? Sérieusement ?

« Ce n'est pas une condition pour faire partie de l'obsidienne Nevra. »

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