The sun had just begun to cast its gentle morning rays across the forest, enveloping Eowyn and Davhil in a golden warmth as they strolled through the enchanting woods. With Eowyn’s hair shimmering in the soft morning light, she initiated the conversation.

“Davhil, do you remember those early morning adventures we used to embark on? We’d sneak out of the house and chase the first light of dawn,” she reminisced.

Davhil, with his piercing eyes and a nostalgic grin, responded, “Ah, yes, those were the best moments. We’d explore the forest, tracking animals, and pretending we were brave explorers, just like in the storybooks.”

As they continued their walk, a shadow fell across their path, prompting them to halt and seek cover behind a towering oak tree. From their concealed vantage point, they observed a group of barbarians approaching, leading a procession of mages with bound wrists.

“Eowyn, should we help them?” Davhil whispered with genuine concern. “Those barbarians are treating them like slaves.”

Eowyn’s eyes focused on the captives. “Did you see the tattoos on their arms, Davhil? They belong to the Darkbane tribe.”

“The Darkbane tribe? What are they?” Davhil asked, his curiosity piqued.

“They are rebels from Arantle, and rumor has it they were responsible for assassinating the King of Celestoria,” Eowyn explained.

“They managed to kill the King? But I thought the Twelve Kings were incredibly powerful,” Davhil remarked, his voice tinged with surprise.

Eowyn nodded solemnly. “Not when they were caught off guard, not against the might of an ancient artifact. I heard it was a single arrow.”

Davhil sighed. “That’s tragic.”

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted as the Darkbane barbarians began to whip the enslaved mages. The harsh cracks of the whips echoed through the forest, making both of them wince. Eowyn could feel Davhil’s eyes on her.

“Eowyn!” Davhil cried out in distress, urging her to make a decision.

She hesitated, the struggle evident in her eyes. “I hate it when you’re my moral compass.”

“Stay there,” Eowyn told Davhil, determination etched across her face. She stepped out from behind the tree, her hand already reaching for the hilt of her hidden sword. As she ventured closer to the scene, the forest seemed to hold its breath.

Eowyn’s eyes glittered with determination as she summoned her shadow magic, cloaking herself in an eerie, undulating darkness. She inched closer to the barbarians, the blade of her sword glinting in the morning light. With a swift, silent movement, she slashed the nearest barbarian’s throat, the metallic taste of surprise filling the air.

The remaining barbarians spun around in alarm, their weapons at the ready. An epic sword fight ensued, sparks of steel clashing with steel, and the earth beneath them trembling with the intensity of their struggle. Some mages unleashed their powers, conjuring flames and gusts of wind, but Eowyn, well-versed in shadow magic, moved like a phantom, outwitting them at every turn.

With finesse, she cut the ties on the mages’ wrists using her dagger. “Go now!” she urged them, her voice a whisper in the chaos.

The mages didn’t waste a moment, thanking her with heartfelt gratitude before they hurriedly fled to safety. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Eowyn was about to make her own escape when a menacing figure appeared out of the shadows, a blade pressed against Davhil’s throat.

“Not so fast, my lady!” the man sneered, his grip unyielding. He turned to Davhil, who was struggling in his grasp. “Do you know this person?”

Eowyn’s eyes burned with a fierce protectiveness. “If you touch him, I’ll kill you!”

The man, who introduced himself as Vernit Borough, the leader of the Darkbane, laughed, a sinister sound that seemed to echo through the forest. He was soon joined by his comrades, who formed a menacing circle around Eowyn.

“Lower your sword, or I will take your friend’s head, of course, unattached,” Vernit taunted, his laughter cruel and chilling.

She hesitated, her heart torn between her brother’s safety and her own resolve. With a heavy heart, Eowyn brought her sword down to the ground. Verit pushed Davhil into the arms of one of his comrades.

“Tie them,” Vernit ordered, and the Darkbane members swiftly bound them, taking them as captives. The forest bore witness to the cruel turn of events, and Eowyn and Davhil found themselves at the mercy of their captors, embarking on a new chapter of their journey as prisoners.

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