The Prophecy

Irving the Great's Inn | Clouds

Around them was the hectic life of the inn which continued, made of shouting, laughing, drunken words, applause when the owner passed by and stupid remarks from students... Those ones, moreover, had put themselves in charge of criticizing the personalities of the hostel until they were kicked out by Irving, which was bound to happen... but the question was "when?"! Their attention stopped with envy on the occupants of the so much desired table: the table of the hosts of mark, the table of the chimney. The effects of the alcohol vapors were particularly noticeable after the fifth pint of beer, drunk on an empty stomach, and they thought they were all the more refined and spiritual the further away they got from it, in practice. With the sharpness and tenacity of a crystal cutter, they detailed the beautiful redheaded woman that Half Moon had become, but one detail bothered them, they felt confusedly that she was not quite human, and when they understood the origin of their confusion, they were even less discreet. The elves, known to excel in all forms of art, and especially for those that were not exhibited in Art Galleries, were particularly sharpening their imagination, so they began to detail Half Moon without the slightest restraint. The man, whose entire attention was absorbed by the stupid reflections of these students, began to boil. Irving had also come closer, feeling the seeds of the fight growing. Only Half Moon was not reacting.

She had eaten with appetite, but now she was drawing pictures with the tip of her knife in the sauce that remained at the bottom of the plate. Yes, the man was right, of course he was right! What had made her so unaware of the danger! She should have understood when the trolls had taken her up to this kind of temple, alone, separated from her dear friends... Why? Why did she act so foolishly? She was searching in vain without being able to understand. And this man who was so secretive about himself, who was he? And how had he managed to this secret and sacred place himself? Perhaps he was a spy? A man on the Humans payroll?! A kind of mercenary? She also had to be cautious of him, and to slip out of his company as soon as she could...

However, a feeling that she could not grasp, or even push away, told her to trust this man. That nothing bad or low could come from him. But then, why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he do anything to justify himself to her, to prove her that she was right to want to believe in this confused and confusing feelings? Everything was so strange, so disorienting, she didn't like not controlling what was happening to her. And that's exactly what was happening... And that silence between them. This silence, their silence, was becoming embarrassing. The presence of the man in front of her, as she became aware of all this, became awkward, to the point of being unbearable. Impossible, of course, to tell him, to even mention it. She kept asking herself the same questions over and over again: why did you trust him? Well, in all impartiality, she had little to no choice. He had opposed his strength to her will. She hated it. She hated this feeling that came from deep inside her. There was a fury that was rumbling and was going to overwhelm her. She had to contain herself. Her reaction was stupid. She absolutely had to focus on what was really essential: Slindya-La-Douce. She jumped up. The man stared at her in stupor. Instantly he covered her hand with his own to hold her back.

_ Let them talk, they don't know what they're doing, he said.

What in the name of the Eternals was he talking about? Looking around her, she noticed a group of humans gathered around the bar, staring at her with amused eyes. She sat down, without having grasped even the slightest word of the situation. The man seemed to catch his breath. It was not easy to be with her. It seemed as if she was concentrating all the resentment of the world on her shoulders. Her defiant attitude and her ever-ready fist seemed to taunt everyone.

_ Don't pay attention to this bunch of drunks. We don't have time to argue. Let's finish our meal, the horses will have recovered enough of their strength and emotions for us to continue our journey.