The Council | and so it ends... ?

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Adjuva stood up in his turn, having quickly deliberated with his advisers and Wise men.

_ In a spirit of complementarity, we have decided to appoint men who, because of their birth and their rank, already know the difficulties of this kind of enterprise but who are also aware of its importance for all the life-gifted beings that Innàa carries within her bosom. This choice will be the proof of our personal commitment to the Quest since they are my blood. And all of you here know how proud I am of them. Their interest in spirituality has never deprived them of strength, energy and reactivity when the need arises. Here, I am calling upon, my dear grandsons, the inseparable twins: Cyd & Bud of Myntis.

An explosion of joy could be heard in the stands above Adjuva. It was the twins, of course.

Thus, the spell was cast, the heroes were chosen...

Suddenly one realized that Lowann, always present, sitting in the place that his brother the Lince had previously occupied, said nothing and watched them organize their troop of "heroes" with an unmistakable mocking smile on his lips.

_ Do you intend to be part of the "troop," Lowann d'Astínn? said Adjuva, speaking directly to him without any other protocolary intermediary.

_ Should I? asked Lowann in the same ironic tone.

_ We can't force you to! With the appearance of your City and the upcoming awakening of your people, I imagine that you have other obligations....

_ Certainly, Lowann said condescendingly. However...

_ Yes? replied Adjuva, immediately tense.

_ If the question of my presence in this troop is indeed settled, what about the mandatory presence of the eight pure souls that Fliàe demands?

_ Oh... that... Adjuva ended embarrassed. I don't have the slightest idea of which souls HE could be talking about, he admitted.

In the room there was nodding, and there was also much questioning when an anxious murmur finally caught the attention of those around the Tribune of Word. Then, strangely enough, everyone became aware of the change that had occurred imperceptibly. Again, the light intensified and one sighed with ease: The Eternals had to be returning to make their sibylline words explicit, right? Naturally, one turned one's eyes to the ceiling. A slight tremor accompanied a more pronounced change of atmosphere. They would probably arrive soon: The Eternals loved to be wanted and... they always took care of their entrance!

The tremor turned into a rumbling.

Lowann had been feeling terror in his heart for some time now, but he had silenced this feeling for obvious reasons of maintenance of a poker face while being in the midst of his declared enemies. He suddenly leapt to his feet in response to an imperious calling and rushed towards the Gates. Before anyone could say anything else, he opened them. Not far away, Half Moon, still at the Pope's side, was watching him with anxiety as he passed by. In the room, at long last, some had seen: the volcano was awakening. For real. Not like at the beginning of the council when his Lince had come to visit the council as a good neighbor. No, this, this was serious. And the exit of the members of the council took place as it had been when it opened, without the composure.

Unknowingly, Lowann almost pushed Fenril around and narrowly avoided him. He stopped in the middle of the Corridor of the Lost Steps, and watched through the windows. He seemed to be looking for something or someone. Suddenly he reached out his hand, a ball of energy spun around for a moment and he threw it against the window, which shattered. A large eagle with silver feathers entered the gallery without waiting. Lowann was going to ride it. He turned around. Coming from the Council Chamber, the continuous stream of its members surrounded him, jostled him, fleeing from the center of the Sacred Volcano. Lowann, for his part, was screening the crowd, not finding what he was looking for. The eagle grabbed him with its beak and forced him to climb up. He had probably felt the heat rising endlessly as the lava from the Volcano bubbled up in the crater. The eagle flew rapidly in wide circles upwards, its feathers curling in the unbearable heat. Lowann glanced below it. The center of the volcano was nothing but fire, flames and incandescent lava. He realized that a face of inhuman beauty was staring at him. A face of fire. Ethea. But the eagle did not linger: it slit the air upwards, towards the salutary prairies. And they disappeared into the coolness of the skies.

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