Tales Of Dark River の小説・ストーリー

They looked so sad, and if their eyes alone could tell their story. “Can you tell me about this exhibit, who is the photographer,” I said, lost in my thoughts. He laughed softly and it hit me, this is his exhibit, he is the photographer. He moved behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “This woman is Yara, she escaped being raped in her village…” he continued the story of the Syrian woman and before I knew it tears were streaming down my face, likely making a mess out of my make-up. I felt foolish for judging him the way I did, he was telling stories of the voiceless, trying to bring global attention to their suffering.

There’s no emotion in his voice. I suck in a breath. Of all the places the Bloody Prince could live, he chose some small town called Elk River. I have no idea where that even is on the map. I’m pretty sure no one except those who live there even knows where it is. I swallow back the bitterness, trying not to let it all get to me. “Sounds wonderful. Can’t wait,” I say. Tristan snorts. “You don’t have to come,” Dominic says dryly, glancing at Tristan in the mirror.

We move fast and silent through the undergrowth until the ground drops away and I hear it: the river. It stretches wide and dark ahead of us. Behind and to either side, I can already feel the net tightening. Three directions. Closing fast. I stand at the riverbank and breathe. One way. I turn to look at Kael. He's already looking at me. Those dark eyes steady, waiting, trusting the way he didn't trust five years ago and couldn't five minutes ago and somehow manages now. Shadowpine Forest rises on the other side of the river. Ancient. Dark. The place where wolves who enter are said never to return.

But the anger and heartbreak stabbed so deep that I couldn't bring myself to turn away. Enduring the torture and turmoil, I forced myself to walk toward the observatory doors. They were slightly ajar. I held my breath to press close and listen through the gap. Serena's cloying and clingy voice came from inside. She teased coyly, "Professor Thorne, you seem to especially like seeing me in red." Lucas' voice followed, low and tinged with slight exasperation. "Keep it down... Someone might stumble upon us." "What's there to be afraid of?" Serena drawled, her tone deliberately sulky. "It's so late. No one's around."

I ran my fingers along the spines and chose one at random. I spent the afternoon wrapped in a blanket, reading tales of old Velmora legends, of star-bonded wolves and rivers that whispered prophecy. They were unlike the dark, distorted stories I read in Crimson Dusk. These weren’t just stories, they were songs, prayers, and truths wrapped in poetry.

--- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE THE RIVER TRADE “Peace is a myth. What we call peace is just the moment before someone reloads.” The river was a snake—long, dark, winding, and always hiding something under its slow-moving surface. It had once been a supply drop site for the old families back before the treaties collapsed. Now it was just a dead stretch of water guarded by dying trees and crumbling concrete, far enough from the city to feel forgotten, but close enough that every sound could still echo back into the streets like a warning. They chose midnight because it was neutral. They chose the river because it wasn’t.

My focus then moved to the ancient monument along the river. My senses became acute, and I became persuaded that something dangerous was taking place. "Is this the work of that werewolf?" I recalled the various magical events I'd had with Rafe earlier while exploring the werewolf's secret and the secrets of our previous incarnations. I dashed to the ancient monument by the river, convinced that reading its ancient inscriptions would solve the mystery. Then, all of a sudden, I heard footsteps. I turned to see a big black wolf emerge. It was a dark black creature with what appeared to be black flames on its back.

DIANA “No... no, this has to be a mistake!” Lisa screamed. She started shaking her head violently, her eyes wide with terror as she looked at the scroll in mother’s trembling hands. “What is the Supreme King thinking? Out of all the princes, why him? Why the Dark Prince?!” She grabbed my hands, her fingers digging deep into my skin.“Diana, he has killed every single woman that has ever gone close to him! Everyone knows it! He’s a monster who killed his own mother when he was just ten years old!”

Luna’s eyes suddenly widened. It was the river that separated the realm of the living from the realm of the dead! Luna subconsciously glanced at the river of myth. The river water was extremely turbulent like a rapids. The entire river was black, giving people a sense of oppression. When the water surged, there were faint cries of ghosts, making one’s scalp tingle. Luna turned away and looked at the envoy of hell, asking, “Do you mean I have to swim past the river?” “Nay...” The envoy shook her head.

The touch sent a shiver racing down Blue’s spine, but he didn’t pull away. “Come back,” River whispered, the words more command than plea. “Don’t let this darkness swallow you whole.” Blue looked down at their hands—at the thin thread of connection holding him together—and something inside him cracked. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to let go of the chaos and fall into River like he always did. But the ghosts of his past whispered louder. “You don’t understand,” Blue murmured, tears stinging his eyes. “The darkness isn’t swallowing me, River. I am the darkness.”