Chronicles of Mystery

The Blond Muse

While they were returning towards the temple, on their way, they met tiny orbs of golden light which fluttered beside them, like myriads of suns floating around them. They were called homecoming fireflies and were said to guide weary hunters home from work. They were friendly, landing on people's skin, zigzagging around them. They seemed to welcome them by radiating all their light.

Seeing the familiar lake again, Aiko heaved a contented sigh. She was looking forward to partying tonight to celebrate their return and the success of the mission. With a little luck, they could bathe in this same lake, lit by the magic stone even better than by the Moon, hoping not to be caught again by one of the priests.

As they made their way to the hunters' assigned dorms, a girl popped up in front of them, like an apparition, materializing in their path. She seemed to be disguised as her clothes were strange and crazy, an eclectic mix of patterns and colors. She wore a sleeveless dress with a sequined red bustier shimmering with purple reflections, the sequins sparkled like the gaslights of an entire city, and an original skirt, made with giant playing cards assembled together. You could see the five of diamonds, the eight of hearts, the three of clubs... Quite original petticoats that moved like a fan of paper with each of her movements. She had on black gloves whose sleeves formed bands that crisscrossed, the way two snakes in love might have done playing on the soft golden sand of her skin. Her legs were clad in tall, shiny dark pantyhose, sliding down her legs like the onyx-colored water of a waterfall, while her feet wore little patent red slippers that Dorothy might have envied.

She had such a pretty face, like she was an angelic creature descended from heaven, with a delicate jaw that took the shape of a heart. She had a beautiful mouth, fleshy and delicate, a morning flower usually the same color as the rosy-fingered dawn, painted white. Flawless skin with a peachy complexion that looked like it had been shaped by an artist to have so few flaws. Her flesh seemed to be a charming sandy berry, deliciously pale, covered on all sides by a light golden down like a golden mist that the sun had scattered over her skin. Large azure blue eyes, which reflected the sky, edged with long lashes. They were two sapphire lakes, mountain lakes with pure water bordered by eternal and sacred snow forming a mother-of-pearl setting. Around her left eye was painted a white tile shape like her lips. From her ears hung red stones in the shape of a heart. Her eyebrows were as thick as the bristles of a paintbrush, tenderly surrounding her pupils like long veils of gold protecting those azure expanses. They were dazzlingly blond, as the world seems to be at dawn, when only the sun is present to contemplate the rebirth of this world left gray in this bastard hour between day and night.

She had hair the color of the summer sun that was the very definition of light. The long waves of this river of gold framed her features like a crown of rays which surrounds the shining face of the sun. Hair, hair, fleece with curls cut in the sun, a simple look made one want to bury one's hands in your silky mass and, by this plunge, to taste your elasticity and your angelic sweetness. Hair that the wind agitates, in the long bundles of your wicks seem gathered all the soft summer evenings, when the sky takes on a tawny hue, when the air cools and the scent of the fields fills it, when sweet freshness and the world is bathed in gold. Hair, you make one wish that dusk would never end.

She looked particularly annoyed, her pretty nose puckered and her lips tight, making her features look like a sulky statue, an annoyed muse turning her back on the desperate artist who begs for the services of her inspiring beauty. She had crossed her arms over her chest to show her displeasure and was waiting, stamping the troop with her foot.

Seeing her, Liam sighed.

 "You !" She pointed accusingly at Aiko.

She backed away slightly, suspicious. This single move seemed to have been choreographed as this movement seemed ample and flexible, a slow wave rolling and rising before falling like a cleaver.