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EXTRAIT - Chapitre VIII

« 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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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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𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

as mirrors of one another when apart.

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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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❝ Yeah, but your ... the agent pauses, as if searching for his words. Your friend Mr Mendal was quite convincing. He said you were a serious person and that he could vouch for you. This greatly reassured them and— _ He did what ?! ❞

I speak louder than I would have liked, which draws almost all the eyes in the open space to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elenda leaning back in her chair. Our eyes meet and she raises a questioning eyebrow at me. I make a vague gesture with my hand, as if to say that it's nothing, that she needn't worry.

Because it's nothing. This guy's probably just messing with me. He's probably trying to get back at me for the stunt I pulled with Jason — well, more me than Jason — and the little show we gave him. That's it, I can't think of any other reason.

At least, none that would explain why Jason would do this for me.

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Chapter III

She was walking along a dark tunnel. Only the sound of her footsteps, echoing against the ground, was perceptible. She frowned. Something else was going on. A faint, wet sound could be heard as she walked. It was water. The ground was soaked.

Aliena heard a hiss in the distance, raising her head. She squinted as advanced cautiously. The path she was on was surrounded by snake-like statues, menacing, open-mouthed, ready to pounce on her. She shivered, remembering having seen them before, partially, quickly, in a previous vision. Now she could take the time to observe them from every angle. They glowed in the dark, increasing her fear a notch. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as her blood was pounding against her temples. Her instincts were screaming at her to run away, to leave without looking back, but her legs decided otherwise and she moved forward.

At the far end of the room, the face of a bearded, long-haired man was carved into the stone. Salazar Slytherin. She knew it was him, she couldn't explain how or why, but she knew it. She studied him for a moment, then finally noticed a presence. A little further ahead, a dark-haired male figure turned his back to her. She felt her blood freeze in her veins and stopped. Aliena didn't dare call his name, even though she recognized him perfectly. She knew who was in this room.

An icy shiver ran up her spine and her shirt clung to the sweat on her chest.

Tom finally turned to her, his face impassive. He opened his mouth, but she didn't understand a word he said. Hissing. She could only hear hissing. And suddenly, she felt a heavy presence behind her, something brushing against her back. She didn't know where she found the courage to turn, but did so anyway. And her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her lips.

In front of her, several meters long, stood a huge snake with dark green scales.

A basilisk.

The name tingled on the tip of her tongue.

Aliena took a step back, then toppled into the void.

The scenery around her changed abruptly. She was no longer in the cave, but in a far less unusual room : the washroom. The floor pitched under her feet and she barely caught herself on the edge of a white porcelain washbasin. Aliena looked up, meeting her own reflection in the mirror. Strands of hair stuck to her forehead. She was breathing rapidly, too rapidly, and tried to calm herself when a tiny silver snake emerged from the tap. She jumped back, watching it wriggle into the sink, like a fish out of water, before it froze on the plumbing.

The next moment, another hissing sound was heard, making her recoil. But she tripped over something and nearly toppled backwards into one of the toilet cubicles. She grabbed the wooden panel of the door and looked towards the floor. There was something on it, or rather, someone. She stared in horror at the lifeless body beneath her.

It was a young ravenclaw girl. She couldn't have been more than eleven, twelve at the most. Her complexion was waxy, her eyes bulging. Her thin blue lips were half-open, but no more air passed through them. Her chest remained immobile.

The hiss sounded again, much, much closer this time. Aliena looked ahead.

The washbasin had given way to a gaping hole in the floor, from which she could see two big yellow eyes staring back at her. The basilisk reared up, opened its mouth and attacked. It lunged at her, closing its sharp murderous fangs on her.

She screamed.

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"not all men-" you're right, jacaerys targaryen, heir to the iron throne, prince of dragonstone, the eldest son of queen rhaenyra targaryen and laenor velaryon, a dragonrider, would never treat me like this

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— fire & blood; "the red dragon and the gold"

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1.06 | "The Princess and The Queen" 2.01 | "A Son for a Son"

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❝ A ton tour Sorcière. _ J'ai un nom je te signale. C'est Feyra. _ Je sais, mais je préfère Sorcière. Je trouve que ça te va mieux. ❞

Les élémentaris constituaient autrefois un peuple de faeries vénéré et respecté. Ils pouvaient contrôler les éléments auxquels ils étaient rattachés : la terre pour les terrarius, le vent pour les ventis, l’eau pour les aquarius et le feu pour les infernis. Mais le grand exil et l’instabilité qui s’en suivit eurent raison de leur race. Les autres faeries crurent, à tort, qu’ils descendaient des dragons et que, tant qu’ils vivraient, le sacrifice bleu ne serait pas complet. A l’instar des daemons, ils furent traqués et massacrés pendant des siècles et aujourd’hui, seule une petite poignée d’individus subsiste encore, vivant cachés, la peur au ventre de tomber entre les mains de mercenaires ou de marchands d’esclaves.

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Chapter II

"Bletchey."

Aliena froze in place and cursed Salazar Slytherin himself before turning around. Tom was advancing in her direction, only stopped when he was inches from her.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Riddle ?" she asked, showing exasperation inside her voice.

They weren't friends, never really had been. They were in the same year, taking the same classes, sometimes competing for first place in certain subjects, just a few, but that was all. Most of the time, they ignored each other and never spoke. She had always found him a little annoying, too perfect to be real.

She didn't like being alone, face to face with him. Her instinct had always prompted her to be wary of him, of his too perfect appearance and his beautiful words. In his presence, she always felt a little sense of unease, chilling her blood. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was annoyingly handsome and smart. It was something else, something deeper. And now she couldn't help wondering if he wasn't hiding something, if there wasn't some truth to her visions. That was even worse.

"I just wanted to know how you were."

She was surprised, really surprised, and not in a good way.

"I beg your pardon ?"

"I heard about your parents," he continued. "I'm sorry, truly, and I wanted to offer my condolences in person."

She gritted her teeth, her jaw contracting under the effort.

"I don't need your pity, Riddle. You can keep it to yourself," she spat at him before turning on her heels.

She heard Elaine's soft voice echo behind her before she closed the door to her dormitory.

"Don't take it personally Tom, it's just that she ... You know. She needs time, she'll get over it."

Elaine arrived a few moments later.

"You could have been a little more polite."

"Do you have to defend him all the time ?"

"Stop it, Aliena," she sighed. "It was considerate of him. At least, acknowledge it."

Aliena made a face, clicking her tongue against her palate in annoyance.

"As if I need to thank all the people who rushed to me, offering their hypocritical condolences while they spent all their lifetime spitting on my mother’s back."

"I hear what you're saying and I understand. But don't blow off anyone who takes a step towards you. Not everyone is so mean."

Not everyone, but maybe Tom Riddle was.

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Ultear Milkovich 

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 ㅤㅤㅤ Ultear Milkovich | The Time Wizard ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ I live in the spaces between time.