The Return of Corey

—What do you mean? —Camellya asked, tilting her head slightly, her gaze a mix of confusion and caution, as if anticipating words that could alter the course of the days to come. Grey remained impassive, his expression grave. He did not seek to beat around the bush or embellish, knowing that what he was about to say could not be delayed. 

—We will initiate a war against my former companions, —he declared in a firm voice, each word laden with a weight that reverberated in the throne room. 

A heavy silence fell over everyone. Camellya showed no surprise; deep down, a part of her had anticipated something like this, though she could not explain why. Perhaps it was her instinctive knowledge of Grey, that deep understanding that had grown over time. The echo of his words hung in the air until Grey, feeling the tension like a blade on his shoulders, added in a more contained tone: 

—However, before anything else, we must prepare. 

But his attempt to lighten the atmosphere did not achieve the desired effect. The room remained charged, the somber faces of his companions reflecting both fear and uncertainty. 

—B-but, Your Majesty Grey... —Leo stepped forward hesitantly, his voice trembling like that of a man on the brink of despair—, we do not have the necessary resources to confront the Outer Kings. Our people barely have the strength to survive day to day. 

Grey directed a calm look at Leo, with a slight smile that seemed meant to reassure the young man. Then he turned to Camellya, leaning toward her to whisper something in her ear. 

—Ask a maid to bring me a map. 

As if the gesture were a plea wrapped in affection, he placed a brief kiss on her cheek. Camellya blushed but nodded resolutely and quickly went to fulfill his request. 

Meanwhile, Grey turned to Leo, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and looking directly into his gray eyes. His gesture seemed to convey confidence, a silent promise that everything was under control, even though doubt still loomed in the air. 

—Tell me, Leo, have you heard of summoning portals? 

The young man hesitated, scratching his neck as if trying to gather his thoughts. 

—Yes... well, only by hearsay from my family stories. But... why do you ask, Your Majesty...? 

At that moment, Camellya returned, her steps echoing down the hallway cleared by the guards. She carried with her a rolled-up scroll, dusty and worn by time. 

—Here is the map you requested, —she said, handing it to Grey with careful hands. 

Grey accepted the map with a warm smile that made Camellya's cheeks flush again. With a fluid motion, he unrolled the scroll and murmured some arcane words that summoned a gentle breeze to clear away the accumulated dust, leaving the map floating before him. 

—This map may be outdated... —he murmured to himself, bringing a hand to his chin as he examined the details closely—. The world has changed more than it appears. 

—It is old, yes, but it reflects the layout of the world as it currently is, —Leo explained, trying to hide the insecurity in his voice. 

Grey studied the map in silence until his eyes landed on a particular point at the edge of the mountains marked as "The Mountains of Destiny." 

—There. I want you to go there, Leo, —he indicated firmly while pointing at the location. 

Leo stepped closer for a better look but paled upon identifying the region; a shiver ran down his spine. 

—Your Majesty... that place... 

—What's wrong? Is there something we are unaware of? —Grey asked with an impatient note in his tone. 

—Much more than that! —Leo exclaimed, his words tinged with apprehension—. The cold in those mountains is lethal. It freezes a man in seconds. I don't know if it's wise... 

—Do not fear. Nothing will happen to them, —Grey assured with a voice that seemed to hold the promise of an ancient oath. 

Without further ado, he extended his hand over Leo's head. An indescribable warmth spread through his body, dissipating all traces of hunger and fatigue. Then using a greater spell, he conjured a red circle on the ceiling of the hall from which a torrent of mana descended, revitalizing everyone present. 

—I want you and the guards to go to those mountains, —he ordered, his gaze burning with determination—. There you will build the summoning portal. 

But before he could continue, Camellya approached him and took his hands, looking at him with tenderness and concern. 

—Take things slowly, my love. —The term slipped from her lips timidly but its meaning was as warm as fire on a winter night. 

Grey hesitated for an instant. 

—But... 

—Please, Grey. I know your former companions unsettle you, but you must listen to those around you. This cannot be done hastily. 

Camellya's words dissipated the hardness in his gaze. Grey nodded gratefully, while Leo intervened with renewed respect. 

—Your Majesty Grey, I do not refuse your cause, but we must recognize our limitations. I do not know how to build a summoning portal; my knowledge is scant, and the necessary scrolls are in possession of King Robert Smedsson. 

The name elicited a grimace of disgust from Grey. 

—It had to be that damned dwarf... —he muttered under his breath before letting out a sigh. 

Finally turning back to Leo with a calmer demeanor, he said: 

—You will take care of the kingdom in my absence. While I am away, organize our people; make them cultivate and store provisions. No one will disturb them; I promise you. 

—Yes, Your Majesty! —Leo responded with renewed vigor, bowing deeply out of respect. 

The conversation concluded with Leo's final reverence, who did not dare question Grey's fate; for him, what the King decided must be accepted without reservations, as he considered it an act of loyalty not to interrogate the authority now governing their lives. 

Grey and Camellya were led by a pair of silent maids to one of the upper chambers of the castle, where, under dim torchlight and the starlit sky filtering through window panes, awaited carefully arranged bed linens. 

The maids withdrew in respectful silence, leaving the couple alone in intimacy within their quarters. 

Before lying down, Grey and Camellya exchanged words that felt essential after such an eventful day filled with tensions and decisions. 

—Where shall we go tomorrow? —Camellya asked as she slowly began undressing with deliberate movements. Her eyes sought Grey's with curiosity but also with a shadow of worry. 

From across the room, Grey replied calmly; his voice resonating softly against stone walls: 

—We will seek out the spell scroll for the summoning portal. 

Camellya repeated those words in a whisper, as if testing them on her tongue gave them clearer meaning. 

—Summoning portal...? 

At that moment, Grey emerged from the bathroom, barely wrapped in a towel falling just below his waist, with droplets of water cascading down his torso like small crystals under the moonlight. 

—Indeed; that portal was used eons ago, long before even the great war between gods and magistrates began. With it, we can summon beings from another world—allies with powers beyond our understanding who will help us defeat my former companions. 

Camellya watched him, her thoughts swirling between fascination and unease, until finally she voiced what crossed her mind softly: 

—Wouldn't that be too dangerous...? 

Grey paused, gazing out the window as if searching for answers among the vast night sky, aware of the risks yet having already made up his mind deep within about bearing the consequences, whatever they might be. 

—Perhaps it is; but the power these allies may obtain is something we can predict… and I hope we can control them. 

His words carried both hope and resignation. 

Dressed now in light clothing, Grey sat at the edge of the bed beside Camellya, who instinctively rested her head upon his shoulder. Without pulling away, he allowed a faint smile to bloom across a face filled with sweetness rarely shown. 

Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating Camellya as if the night itself sought to enhance her figure. Grey then looked at her, noticing something within her previously overlooked—a beauty not merely physical but also a silent strength residing within her being itself. 

Camellya lifted her gaze, meeting Grey's eyes, at which moment time seemed suspended. Leaning toward him, she kissed him softly, their lips parting just enough for her whisper, laced with warmth and desire: 

—We shall not sleep tonight. 

Grey, surprised yet unreluctant, allowed the warmth to envelop the moment without further thought. Leaning toward her again, his lips found hers once more, while his hands traced her face gently, speaking volumes of the profound love held between them. 

Night advanced amidst whispers, caresses, warmth, and closeness, filling the room like a fire never extinguished. Under the distant stars, the two lost themselves in each other, leaving behind the worries of the war that awaited the dawn. 

That night, as the heavens bore witness, they did not sleep at all.