Mikhail heard a faint noise coming from the underbrush. He froze as he strained his ears to make out what it was. It sounded like the pattering of little feet, accompanied by a deep rustling sound that seemed to be growing closer and closer. He tensed, holding up his sword as he moved cautiously towards the noise.
Just then, something small ran across their feet, and they all gasped in surprise. As Mikhail raised his sword, ready to strike whatever it was, a small yelp rose from the tall grass.
Mikhail's gaze drifted downwards, and there, at his feet, was an unexpected sight—a tiny pup. Its fur was an immaculate white, shimmering, almost silver under the light, reminiscent of freshly fallen snow under a moonlit sky. The pup's coat was so lustrous and pure that it seemed to glow with an inner radiance. Each strand of fur appeared as if spun from the finest silk, giving the creature an ethereal quality.
The pup's eyes were a striking contrast to its pristine fur—crystal clear and piercing. Those eyes fixed Mikhail with a gaze that was both captivating and unnerving.
Mikhail's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the Silverfur breed. A mythical creature often referred to in fairytales about the North. To encounter one was considered a blessing, a sign of fortune, or a harbinger of significant events yet to unfold.
With reverence and surprise, Mikhail cautiously extended his hand to pick up the delicate creature. But as his fingers gently closed around its small body, the Silverfur pup reacted unexpectedly. It snapped at him, tiny teeth flashing in a defensive snarl. Startled, Mikhail instinctively recoiled, pulling his hand back just in time to avoid the sharp bite.
The Silverfur pup continued to growl, its tiny frame tensed and ready for attack. Mikhail steadied himself, understanding the pup's reaction. He remembered from his childhood fables that Silverfurs were naturally distrustful of humans, preferring the confines of solitude over the company of outsiders. But there was something different about this Silverfur—an air of vulnerability within its fierce demeanor called out to Mikhail.
Slowly, he lowered his sword, his gaze never leaving the small creature. He knelt, his hand outstretched, palm facing upwards.
"Easy now, little one. I won't hurt you," he murmured softly.
The Silverfur pup regarded him warily but didn't make any move to attack. Encouraged, Mikhail inched his hand closer, stopping just short of the pup's snapping jaws.
And then, to his surprise, the creature's hostility faded away as it sniffed curiously at his hand. It licked his palm tentatively, its sharp teeth grazing his skin lightly. Mikhail couldn't help but smile at the strange sensation, his heart lighter than it had been in days.
He scooped the Silverfur into his arms, cradling it tenderly against his chest. The pup snuggled into him, a contented sigh escaping its tiny mouth. Mikhail knew he couldn't leave the pup behind, not now that it had trusted him. As he looked down at the creature in his arms, he noticed a red cut slashed across his left hind leg.
"Ivan," Mikhail called out to one of the knights.
"Yes, your grace."
"Hand me the healing Elixir."
The young knight pulled a small vial from a pouch around his waist, its contents a shimmering rose-pink color. Mikhail received the potion and uncorked the bottle. He had no idea if it would work on the pup, but he felt compelled to try.
He gently trickled a few drops of the elixir onto the Silverfur's wound, watching as the skin began to knit back together and the bleeding stopped. The pup whined softly but didn't resist the soothing magic of the potion.
After a few moments, the pup jumped out of his arms and tested his newly recovered leg, running in circles and wagging its tail. The other knights were transfixed by the presence of a magical creature they had only heard about in stories.
Suddenly, he heard a sound from behind him - a rustle, like wings flapping through leafy boughs. He spun round to see an enormous owl perched atop one of the nearby trees, its hooded eyes boring into him with penetrating intensity. Mikhail shivered at this unexpected encounter; even from here, he could feel its ancient power emanating from within. They were said to be guardians of the forest, watching over the creatures that lived within it. It watched them for a few seconds and, sensing no ill intent from the four men, spread its wings and flew away into the night sky.
The Silverfur pup stopped playing and watched intently as the bird dissolved into shadows between clouds. The pup then turned his attention to Mikhail, grabbing the hem of his pants between his jaws and tugging.
Mikhail understood that the Silverpup wanted them to follow, so they did. There were plants and flowers that Mikhail knew only existed within Zandel Forest. They suddenly stopped when they reached a vast open meadow of tall grass surrounded by bushes bursting with colorful flowers.
The Silverpup rushed forward, disappearing into the tall grass. Mikhail and the knights all noticed that the tall grass in the middle of the meadow seemed to be disturbed. They walked towards it and saw a clearing that had been made, as if something or someone had fallen into the area, crushing the underneath it.
The Silverpup was barking excitedly, his tail wagging as he jumped up and down. Mikhail watched, both bemused and curious, as the pup danced around a freshly dug pit at the base of an ancient tree, its gnarled roots twisting and sprawling across the forest floor.
As Mikhail drew closer, his eyes fell upon the unearthed treasures—a small, smooth rectangular device, scarcely bigger than his palm, and a silver necklace adorned with a locket. The device was unlike anything he had seen, yet it seemed familiar, its sleek surface gleaming with a peculiar sheen under the dappled sunlight.
But it was the locket that truly captured Mikhail's attention. He knelt, his fingers carefully sifting through the dirt to retrieve it. The locket was delicate, its surface bore the intricate design of two blue roses entwined on a thorny stem, the craftsmanship was exquisite.
With his heart pounding against his chest, Mikhail gently opened the locket. Inside, the faded photographs were unmistakable, evoking a storm of emotions he struggled to contain. His mind raced with disbelief and questions that clamored for answers.
It can't be.
Rising to his feet, he turned sharply and strode towards his waiting steed, the loyal Silverpup trotting at his heels.
"You three," he called out to the knights. "Continue to scour this area."
He addressed the Silverpup, "And you, lead them to anything else you've uncovered." The pup barked as if it understood his command, its intelligent eyes shining with purpose.
Mounting his majestic black horse, Mikhail set off towards the mansion, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The discovery he had made was unsettling, its implications vast and undefined. Concerns over what the Church might have unearthed gnawed at him, as well as the mission's success resting on Belmont's shoulders.
The galloping hooves of his horse carried him swiftly, yet his thoughts lingered on the locket's images and the strange, sleek device—puzzle pieces in a game much larger than he had anticipated.
The darkness was already settling upon the land as Mikhail arrived at the front of the mansion, the massive structure looming before him.
He had barely dismounted before Pascal and Theo rushed out of the front door, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief.
"My lord, how did you get here so quickly?" asked Pascal.
Mikhail paused momentarily, then replied tersely in a tense voice, "I rode hard."
The knights standing guard at the front door exchanged looks as Mikhail brushed past them and stormed into the house, heading straight to his study.
Once inside, he slammed the door shut and walked to his desk, slumping into the chair, his hands still clutching the locket. Mikhail closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, trying to clear his head. He knew he needed to think rationally, but his emotions were running high.
He opened his eyes and stared down at the locket, feeling the pain in his chest intensified. The photographs inside the locket seemed to taunt him with their familiarity. It couldn't be possible, but he knew both faces all too well.
There was a loud knock on the study door.
"Your Grace." It was Theo's calm voice.
Mikhail sighed and tightened his grip on the locket. "Yes, come in, Theo," he said.
The door opened, and Theo entered the study, eyes widening as he saw the locket in Mikhail's hands.
"My lord, you have found something?" asked Theo, crossing the room slowly.
Mikhail opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss of words.
He knew he needed to share the information he had gathered, but the implications were too significant. Theo's inquisitive eyes bore into his, and hesitant words tumbled from Mikhail's lips.
"Yes, I have discovered something that could change everything."
Theo's face showed no surprise as he nodded gravely, accustomed to the weight of responsibility of working for the Duke.
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