Chapter 51: The thirst grows
Mordred was sitting in a corner of his cell, his back pressed against the cold, damp stone, his muscles still taut from hours of back-breaking work in the mine. His breath was slow, controlled, and he was beginning to feel the imminent transition back to his home world.
But before he could sink into the darkness... something changed.
A tiny, almost imperceptible noise broke the heavy silence of the cell. Not a sound of metal or chains. No, something fluid, furtive.
Her instincts were immediately alarmed.
Her fingers tightened slightly on the floor, her exhausted body tensed, ready to pounce if necessary.
A light breeze swept through the room, as if an invisible presence had slipped in without disturbing the guards.
Someone was there.
With a quick movement, Mordred straightened his head and scanned the hooded figure who had inexplicably slipped into the cell unnoticed.
The darkness of the room made his face indistinct, but the intruder’s fluid, calculated gait immediately betrayed someone accustomed to moving about undetected.
Mordred made no attempt to pretend surprise. On the contrary, he spoke immediately, his voice slightly louder than a whisper, but firm and threatening.
- Who are you?