89. Erik

CHAPTER 89

Erik

THE RECON –

Under the cloak of darkness, the night sky serves as our canvas as three mighty War Dragons soar through the air in perfect formation. Their massive wings beat rhythmically against the cool night breeze, propelling us forward with a sense of purpose and determination. It's a sight to behold, the sleek, majestic creatures cutting through the darkness like shadows in flight.

We count ourselves fortunate that our queen has entrusted the War Dragons with the arduous task of carrying us to our destination. Their formidable strength and unwavering loyalty make them invaluable allies in our mission, allowing us to conserve our own energy for the challenges that lie ahead.

As we make our way toward the hidden Marelup castle nestled deep within the rugged mountains of Moldavia, anticipation courses through our veins like a wildfire. Fifteen of us have been chosen for this perilous mission, tasked with scouring every inch of the castle and its surrounding lands for any valuable information we can glean.

But our mission extends beyond mere reconnaissance. Tonight, we also have the important task of rendezvousing with the spies we left behind two weeks ago, gathering crucial intelligence that will aid us in our efforts to uncover the castle's secrets.

As we draw nearer to our destination, the imposing silhouette of the castle looms ahead, shrouded in darkness and mystery. It's a formidable fortress, its ancient stones whispering tales of centuries past, secrets waiting to be unearthed by those brave enough to seek them out.

In the distance, the imposing silhouette of the castle emerges from the clouds, its towering spires reaching toward the heavens like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets hidden within its walls. The sight is both awe-inspiring and foreboding, a testament to the castle's storied history and the mysteries that lie waiting to be uncovered.

As Edgar and his team touch down in a secluded field below, we take to the sky, our wings beating against the air with a powerful grace. The night is alive with the sound of our flight, the wind rushing past us as we ascend into the darkness above.

High above the rugged landscape below, we spread out in search patterns, our keen eyes scanning the terrain for any sign of activity. The thermals are in our favor, carrying us effortlessly on invisible currents as we glide through the night sky, each of us searching at different heights simultaneously.

It's a coordinated dance of movement and precision, our senses attuned to every shift in the air as we scour the landscape below for any clue that might lead us closer to our goal.

And then, at the base of the mountain, we spot it—the remnants of the tunnels that Nicodeamus spoke of months ago. The marking stone still stands sentinel over the entrance, a silent witness to the passage of time and the secrets buried beneath the earth.

But as we descend closer, we see that the entrance is now submerged beneath the waters of a natural spring, its once-hidden depths swallowed by the relentless march of nature.

As we cautiously circle over the dense cover at the base of the mountain, our keen eyes scan the rugged terrain below, searching for any sign of danger. The thick foliage provides ample cover for our teams, ensuring that they remain hidden from prying eyes as they prepare for the impending assault.

But amidst the tangled undergrowth, something catches my eye—a series of traps cunningly concealed among the rocks and foliage, poised to trigger an avalanche of rocks and mud at the slightest disturbance. It's a clever strategy, designed to thwart any attempt at invasion and deter intruders from approaching the castle.

With a sense of urgency, I reach out to our Alpha, Arnulf, forging a mental connection that allows him to see through my eyes. I show him the traps, the intricate network of mechanisms hidden among the rocky terrain, and the peril they pose to anyone foolish enough to venture too close.

And then, amidst the silence of our mental link, I hear a feminine voice, smooth as silk, echoing faintly in connection with my Alpha. It's a surreal experience, the sensation of sharing my thoughts and observations with another, and I obey without question as I change course and fly back toward the tunnels.

Several passes later, I'm instructed to resume my search of the mountainside, and I comply without hesitation, my senses alert for any sign of danger. As I circle the castle itself, a grim sight greets me—the road that once wound its way to the fortress has been utterly destroyed, the compacted stone roadway reduced to rubble by what appears to be explosions.

Huge holes and chunks are missing from the terrain, evidence of the devastating force unleashed upon the landscape. With caution, I continue my reconnaissance, circling the castle and landing on one of the lower windowsills to peer inside.

What I see confirms my suspicions—the first floor is submerged beneath at least six inches of water, a testament to the destructive power of the natural spring that feeds the castle's moat. It's a sobering sight, a reminder of the challenges that lie ahead as we prepare to confront the mysteries hidden within the ancient walls of the fortress.

As I fly to yet another window on the first floor, the room within appears to be relatively dry, save for a few scattered puddles that reflect the faint moonlight filtering through the glass. The air is heavy with the scent of age and decay, a tangible reminder of the passage of time and the neglect that has befallen this once-grand structure.

Moving on to several more windows, I finally come upon what must have been the throne room in ages past. Here, the room is divided by the cruel hand of fate—one half submerged beneath the murky depths of the castle's moat, while the other remains elevated and relatively dry. It's a poignant juxtaposition, a stark reminder of the castle's former glory now swallowed by the encroaching waters.

Hovering near the stairwell, I land in one of its windows, peering down into the flooded lower portion. The water level is rising slowly, inching its way up the stone steps with a relentless determination. From my vantage point, I estimate there to be around eight to ten inches of stagnant water pooling at the foot of the stairwell, a testament to the castle's gradual descent into ruin.

Turning my attention to the exterior walls, I observe several sections that bear the scars of time and neglect. Breaks and missing stones mar the once-imposing facade, their absence a testament to the ravages of nature and the passage of time. The structural integrity of the wall is severely compromised, with large sections now crumbling away and others bearing gaping holes that smaller shifters could easily pass through.

It's a sobering sight, a stark reminder of the castle's precarious state and the challenges that lie ahead for those who would seek to reclaim it from the clutches of darkness. As I continue my reconnaissance, it becomes increasingly clear that the castle may not even be safe to inhabit in its current condition—a grim reality that the queen and her mates will undoubtedly have to contend with once the castle is liberated from Vladimir's grasp.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, we take to the cover of the trees, our senses attuned to any sign of movement below. The forest comes alive with the symphony of the evening, the chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves serving as a backdrop to our silent vigil.

As darkness falls like a heavy blanket over the land, the first signs of activity emerge within the courtyard below. Like shadows in the night, the Strigoi begin to stir, their dark forms moving with a sinister grace as they navigate the confines of the castle's interior. They move in groups of three, their movements fluid and purposeful as they circle the courtyard before ascending what remains of the crumbling walls.

There's an eerie sense of detachment to their actions, a mechanical precision that hints at a deeper purpose lurking beneath the surface. It's as if they are merely going through the motions, their movements dictated by some unseen force driving them ever forward.

Meanwhile, two out of three spires still stand tall against the night sky, their windows aglow with the soft flicker of light. It's a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounds them, a beacon of life amidst the desolation of the castle's ruins.

Though we were not expressly ordered to investigate the spires, I make note of their continued activity, a piece of information that may prove useful in the days to come. But for now, our focus remains on observing the movements of the Lycans and Strigoi below.

In the woods closest to the mountain, the Lycans move with purpose, their steps steady and unwavering as they patrol the perimeter. There's a sense of determination in their movements, a silent resolve to protect their territory at any cost.

Yet despite their differences, both species seem to be united by a singular purpose, blindly following orders without regard for their own safety.

As I summon the others, we swiftly make our way back to our awaiting dragon transports. The night air is crisp and cool against my skin as we climb onto the sturdy backs of our winged companions. Despite the success of our mission, a sense of unease gnaws at the edges of my mind, a lingering doubt as to whether our queen will view our findings in the same light.

Settling into our positions on the dragon's back, we brace ourselves for the journey ahead, the rhythmic beat of the dragon's wings providing a comforting backdrop to our thoughts. I remain in constant contact with our Alpha, relaying every detail of our reconnaissance mission and the troubling discoveries we made within the castle's walls.

The destruction and state of disrepair we witnessed are deeply concerning, posing a significant threat to the safety of our troops should they attempt to infiltrate the fortress. It's a sobering reality that weighs heavily on my mind as we soar through the night sky, the urgency of our mission driving us ever onward.

The flight back is swift, Edgar's flying infused with a sense of purpose and determination that hints at the gravity of the situation awaiting us back at our main camp. With each passing moment, my apprehension grows, wondering what exactly awaits us upon our return.

As we approach the camp, Edgar lands with precision in the center of the bustling encampment, a departure from our usual landing spot in the nearby field. It's a subtle yet telling sign of the urgency of our situation, and I can't help but brace myself for whatever awaits us as we disembark from our dragon transports.

As we land in the center of the camp, our queen awaits us with an air of palpable impatience, her silver dragon orbs fixed upon Edgar as he touches down. Flanked by her six mates, she exudes an aura of dominance and power that sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me of the formidable force she commands.

With a swift motion, she pushes her way free of her mates, her gaze locking onto us with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. Arnulf, my Alpha, moves to her side, his presence a silent reassurance amidst the tension that hangs in the air. He gestures toward us on Edgar's back, a silent warning to tread carefully in the presence of such formidable predators.

Aurora's expression softens as she realizes the effect her presence has on us, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O' of apology as she mouths her regrets to us. With a silent command, the rest of my team takes flight and heads back to the building where we are staying, leaving me alone to face our queen's scrutiny.

Extending her arm, partially shifted to bear a light coating of protective scales, Aurora offers me a perch upon her arm. I descend gracefully, my wings folding against my body as I alight upon the offered limb, feeling the slight dip as her arm accommodates my weight.

"Look into my eyes, Erik; get lost in the silvery orbs and let me in. I need to see everything you did," Aurora's voice, soft and silky, washes over me like a gentle caress, coaxing me to surrender to her will. Her hand, warm and comforting, rests lightly on the feathers of my back as she guides me toward a nearby bench, her presence a reassuring anchor amidst the swirling chaos of my thoughts.

As we sit together, her silver dragon orbs lock with mine, and a white glow emanates from within, casting an ethereal halo around her eyes. It's a mesmerizing sight, and I find myself drawn into the depths of her gaze, losing myself in the swirling currents of her consciousness.

Suddenly, the memories flood back, a torrent of images flashing before my eyes in rapid succession. I can feel the chill in the air as the temperature drops slightly, a tangible manifestation of Aurora's growing anger at the state of her mother's castle. It's as if her emotions are projected onto the very fabric of reality, their intensity almost overwhelming.

The mental probe seems to stretch on endlessly, each moment etched into my mind with crystalline clarity. Yet, just as suddenly as it began, Aurora breaks eye contact, her touch gentle as she strokes my feathers, a silent gesture of gratitude for my cooperation.

As the tension in the air dissipates, I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the depth of Aurora's power and the unwavering strength of her will. In her eyes, I see the weight of her responsibilities, the burden of leadership resting heavy upon her shoulders. And yet, amidst the turmoil, there is also a glimmer of hope—a determination to overcome whatever challenges lie ahead and reclaim her rightful place.

"Thank you, Erik. You and your team brought me very valuable intel today. I greatly appreciate it. Take the rest of the evening to relax." Aurora's words wash over me like a soothing balm, her gratitude a welcome reassurance after the intensity of our earlier encounter. As she turns her attention to Arnulf, her demeanor shifts, her smile softening into one of warmth and affection as she addresses him.

"Love, make sure your men are fed and spoiled tonight; my gift to them," Aurora says, her voice filled with genuine affection as she gazes up at my alpha. It's a tender moment, a glimpse into the deep bond that exists between them, and I find myself internally smiling at the sight.

Arnulf returns her smile with a nod of acknowledgment before turning his gaze to me, his expression one of gratitude and appreciation. "Erik, please carry my thanks back to your team for me. I'll come to visit later today and bring extra goodies with me," he says, his words laced with sincerity. With a light dip of his head in my direction, Arnulf conveys his gratitude, his smile a silent reassurance that our efforts have not gone unnoticed.

With a careful leap, I gracefully dismount from Aurora's arm and take flight back toward the cabin where my team and I are staying. The cool night air rushes past me as I soar through the darkness, the weight of the day's events still heavy on my mind.

As I approach the cabin, a sense of anticipation builds within me. It's odd, I reflect, that I didn't deliver the report in my human form. But given the atmosphere of secrecy and suspicion that surrounds us, I understand the necessity for caution.

With a final flap of my wings, I land softly outside the cabin and quickly shift back into my human form before entering. The warm glow of the fire greets me as I step inside, casting flickering shadows across the cozy interior.

True to Aurora's word, a bountiful spread of meats and cheeses awaits my return, laid out in a tempting display that makes my mouth water. Dinner has never looked so enticing, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a sense of belonging and purpose.

As I join my team at the table, I can't help but reflect on the day's events. Despite the challenges we face, we have a leader who keeps her promises and genuinely cares for our well-being. Working for a hybrid like Aurora may not be what we expected, but it's certainly a welcome change from the bleak existence we were led to believe awaited us. In her, we've found not only a leader, but a friend and ally in the fight against darkness. We were told working for a Lycan would be hell; working for a hybrid is fucking awesome.