It had now been several days since the small group had resumed their journey.
They had circled the northern swamps as recommended, leaving behind the lush, wet lands. Fortunately, the patrols they had encountered had not caused too many problems.
The road had changed little by little, almost imperceptibly at first. But as they advanced deeper into the lands surrounding the borders, the ground had become harder, rockier, echoing under the horses' hooves.
The paths seemed less travelled, as if they had been abandoned in anticipation of a season that few wished to face.
The trees were different, too. Tighter together. Thinner.
Their branches, stripped of dead leaves, formed dark and gloomy silhouettes, clawing at an increasingly pale and low sky. A few reddish leaves still clung on, but the wind tore them away relentlessly — sometimes without mercy.
The air was cold. Not yet biting, but already dry and sharp in the throat — making each breath difficult. Breath sometimes even condensed into wisps of mist, especially in the morning.
Silas could feel it. Something was closing in around them... The immaculate but morbid veil of winter.
"Why were the houses we saw yesterday all made of stone?" Enalid asked suddenly.
Mireille glanced around before answering.
"Because good quality wood, necessary to make houses, is rare here... and the rest is too fragile. The winds are stronger, and some creatures are too fond of fire."
Enalid's eyes lit up immediately.
The little girl was still leaning against Silas, clutching his hips as she dozed, wrapped in a coat that was too big for her.
Yet despite her fatigue, her curiosity remained intact.
"Why is it colder here?" she asked, removing her arms from around Silas's waist and rubbing her hands together.
"Because these lands are higher than the others. And because winter always comes earlier near Ceniel." Mireille replied calmly.
"Does it snow a lot here, too?"
"Sometimes, yes. However, when the roads turn white, travelling becomes... more dangerous."
Enalid's eyes lit up immediately.
"Because of monsters?"
Silas smiled briefly.
"More likely because of men, I would say." He replied.
The girl seemed to ponder this answer longer than expected. Then she continued, as if nothing had happened:
"But then, what about monsters and... demons?"
She finished her sentence in a tone that sounded almost sad.
Mireille noticed this, brought her horse closer and ruffled the girl's blackish hair.
"Demons, little one, are rarely where you expect them to be." Said the servant with a tired little smile.
The girl nodded with an almost comical seriousness, as if engraving every word in her memory.
***
They rode on, the wind whistling softly between the tree trunks. At times, Silas thought he heard a creaking sound that wasn't coming from their horses, but he never saw the source.
"Ceniel, is it dangerous?" Enalid asked after a moment of silence.
Mireille replied without slowing down.
"Yes."
Then, after a short silence, she added:
"But not in the same way as these lands."
Silas frowned.
"You talk as if you know the provinces of Ceniel very well, Mimi."
Mireille pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders.
"You could say that, yes. I know them a little."
"More than you're willing to say, it seems." The young boy insisted gently.
The servant exhaled slowly, a pale cloud escaping from her lips.
"From what I remember, Ceniel isn't really a uniform kingdom. Some regions still live according to ancient traditions. Others have forgotten even the meaning of the word 'law'."
She paused for a moment, taking a slow breath that seemed to require considerable effort. Then she continued:
"The only constant in Ceniel is their hospitality. But then again, that's also what can make it dangerous."
Silas raised an eyebrow.
"Hospitality? Dangerous? I don't understand."
Mimi looked at him and smiled slightly.
"It's not that complicated to understand, Master Silas. Sometimes excessive hospitality can simply hide a perverse desire."
The young boy looked at her, clearly still confused.
"And Levanfort?" he finally asked.
She slowed her pace.
"Levanfort... It's not just a city. It's a point of convergence."
"Of what?"
"Of convergence. Of roads. Of ambitions. Of truths that we would rather hide under layers of stone... and silence."
She finally turned her head towards him.
"All you need to know, young lord, is that Levanfort is a beautiful city that doesn't like naive people very much."
The young boy felt lost by his servant's somewhat enigmatic answers. Silas opened his mouth, ready to insist, but he realised he would get nothing more out of her.
Enalid, meanwhile, seemed to be already building entire worlds in her mind.
"So there are legends there? Heroes, creatures, forbidden libraries?" she asked excitedly.
Mireille let out a quiet laugh.
"Yes. All of that exists... probably."
She looked straight ahead, then whispered almost inaudibly:
"Heroes, yes. Especially if she's still there."
The girl clenched her fists, shivering but enthusiastic — sleep seemingly gone from her.
"I want to learn everything."
Silas glanced surreptitiously at Mireille. His servant spoke like someone who had travelled through these lands before.
He could see that Mimi was avoiding certain answers. Not out of mistrust... but out of habit. Like someone who had learned that some truths came at a high price.
***
In the late afternoon, they reached a small, rocky hill, exposed to a stronger wind. From above, they could see the road stretching out behind them — dark, narrow and vast — disappearing into even paler lands on the horizon.
"We'll stop here for the night." Mireille declared.
They quickly set up camp. The ground had become hard, almost frozen in places. The fire took a little longer than usual to catch, and the flames seemed weaker, as if hesitant.
Enalid sat on a rock near the fire, watching the horizon where the sun was setting, tinging the sky with cold hues.
"You're travelling to Ceniel. Why?" she whispered.
Silas remained silent for a moment. He looked at the earth, the light, and the cold that was already settling in for the night.
"We're supposed to go to the city of Levanfort to..."
He hesitated a little, looked up at the sky, then continued:
"...Find one of my late mother's old friends. Apparently, she can help me find out more about who I really am."
"Who you really are?" asked the young girl, visibly confused.
'Yes... I think so." Replied Silas.
Enalid lowered her head, stared at the hard ground in silence for a few seconds, then looked up and fixed her gaze on the young nobleman's blue eyes.
"...Could she help me find out more about myself too?"
Silas frowned, scratched the back of his head, and turned his head to look at Mimi.
The maid just shrugged.
Silas sighed. He was apparently on his own on this one.
"Um... I think so. She could help you." He finally said.
"Well then, this is the beginning of our adventure together." Replied Enalid with a small, enthusiastic smile.
The young boy smiled, without even understanding why. The little girl got up and went to help Mireille prepare the meal.
And as dusk spread over the hills, one thing became clear to Silas:
Winter was approaching. And with it came trials that would forgive neither ignorance nor hesitation.
And this time, he was no longer safe, warm and cosy behind the walls of the manor house.
But then again...
...He wasn't alone in facing them.