Attila stepped forward. His face showed a mix of anger and surprise. Although the light on his forehead had already faded, the glow was still in his eyes. His gaze fixed sharply on Ebren, and his voice was deeper than usual.
"Why did you use the power of the stone, Ebren?"
Ebren slowly slid his sword into the strap on his back. He paused for a moment, then tilted his head and answered with his usual mocking grin.
"Oh, sorry… I forgot—we were only supposed to use the stones for 'special occasions,' right?"
Attila didn't say anything, but his eyes were still hard. Ebren went on.
"Look, the man knew about the stones. In fact, he probably started using them before we did. He was the one who raised the dead. His forehead didn't glow like yours… but the inside of his head was definitely shining."
Then he glanced at the unconscious old man lying on the ground and gave a wink.
"This guy built a wall out of corpses, Attila. He was basically playing chess with death. I just stirred the wind a little, now it's balanced."
Attila still looked serious, but Ebren's playful tone eased the tension a little. Ebren gave one last glance around and shrugged.
"Well, we chopped them all up. No one's left to tell we used the stones. Or if they want to talk, they'll have to find their heads first."
Then he looked at the old man and pointed at the scattered body parts on the ground, chuckling lightly.
"I mean, this old guy used a stone too... But his was more like the 'summon from the grave' edition. What do you think? Was that an undead army, or just a wandering corpse delivery?"
Attila frowned and exhaled through his nose, almost without realizing it. Maybe his anger hadn't fully passed, but Ebren's words had lightened the mood. After a short silence, Attila shook his head slowly and spoke.
"We need to be more careful, Ebren. These stones have no limits. Some protect with power, some make fools speak like kings."
Ebren chuckled in response.
"And we're doing both. Perfect."
Attila looked down at the old man lying motionless on the ground. His breathing was irregular, and saliva still dripped from his mouth in short intervals. Attila crouched beside him, checked his pulse, gently opened one of his eyelids but got no response. He sighed. Then he reached for the small bag tied to his horse's saddle. From it, he pulled out a roll of parchment and a charcoal stick. Sitting back on his knee, he placed the parchment on his thigh and began to write.
"Honorable Vizier Ilterish,
We were ambushed by an old man who appears to be a member of a sect. The knowledge of the stones has reached this person's mind—he had a stone on his forehead. The attack was repelled, but we lost one soldier. The man is currently in a coma, his mind locked. Perhaps it can be resolved in the capital.
I kindly ask you to gather more information about this individual."
He rolled up the parchment, sealed it with wax, and stamped his own mark on the seal. Then, he called two of his soldiers. One was very young, while the other was middle-aged, with experience clearly shown in his eyes.
"Take this man and deliver the letter to İlterish. First, go by the Path of the God's Name, then use the Eastern Passage to get there. Hurry. Don't speak to anyone—just deliver it."
The soldiers bowed their heads and said, "As you command." They carefully placed the old man on a stretcher and prepared for the journey.
Attila then turned and looked at Ebren, who was leaning against a tree, happily cleaning his fingernail. He glanced sideways and didn't hide his smirk.
Attila spoke briefly and firmly,
"The man still hasn't woken up."
Ebren chuckled softly, then looked up at the sky and spoke in a teasing tone,
"I call it God's whip—look, he's still shaking on the ground… Well, some people are masochists. Seems like the man reached the peak of pleasure after getting whipped by God. I'd love to be in his place right now—look at that face, how happy he looks."
Then he leaned closer to the old man's face, his voice turning slightly pitying but full of sarcasm,
"What can I say, my friend... The forehead of a stone worshiper shines, but the mind gets confused. Though yours seems to have short-circuited right away. Still, credit where it's due; raising the dead isn't for everyone. Of course, putting them back down is our job."
Attila shook his head with a smile, then continued seriously.
"We must keep moving. This sect could be anywhere. If this man knows about the stones... more trouble is surely near."
Ebren glanced one last time at the old man, then came beside Attila and started walking side by side. The road was silent again, but the sky looked more fragile than ever. As they rode slowly through the forest, the low sunlight filtered through the trees and the shadows grew longer.
Attila broke the silence first. His voice was both questioning and quietly anxious.
"The stones... knowledge of them was supposed to be limited to the imperial dynasties. No one outside the three great houses should have known. Especially not a sect like that..."
Ebren nodded slightly but said nothing. Attila continued, his voice dropping even lower.
"And the stones should only be with dynasty members. Like us. But that old man... he had knowledge of the stones. He even used one. Raising the dead, the mark on his forehead... This isn't just a simple leak, Ebren. There's something deeper behind this."
Ebren paused for a moment, then muttered softly. Pulling on his reins, he moved a little closer to Attila. His voice was calm but serious.
"Look, my friend, when that old rogue's forehead lit up, your eyes lit up too. Yes, it happened to me as well. But you're missing something: right now, we are on a mission. Those stones, that sect, those dead… They're not our problem at the moment."
Attila replied without looking away.
"Can you really brush it off so easily, Ebren? The stones are no longer a secret, and this can't be a coincidence."
Ebren smiled and answered in a low voice.
"I'm not brushing it off. I'm just postponing it. If you fill your head with fog, you won't see the way. Our mission is clear. The letter we sent to my father Ilterish explains the suspicion well enough. He knows better how to solve this. Our job is to complete our task as envoys. And if we are still on these roads, it means the mission is not finished."
There was a short silence. Birds jumped from branch to branch, and the distant sound of a stream could be heard.
Ebren started speaking again.
"No matter what's inside, if you take your mind off your mission… that stone will make you drool. Don't forget that."
Attila took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head.
"Is this the time to joke, Ebren? ...Ahh… Fine, whatever… But when the mission is over… we'll learn the truth behind those stones together, and this time it won't be limited to just royal secrets. I've already done some research on the stones before. I think it will bring me closer to the truth. Maybe I'll find it."
Ebren smiled.
"Then, that's when the real fun begins. First, the sparks of war between two great empires, and now the matter of the stones—my day keeps getting better."
They nudged their horses lightly and picked up speed again. Their mission was only just beginning, but the burden they carried was no longer just a matter of diplomacy.