The Kvasir clan were also travelling to unknown lands, following the furrows of the Danean winds. Their guide, Danae, had quickened her pace, or rather her wings, for she had honed magnificent wings of a metallic alloy of gold and copper during the journey, so that her mane, which descended over her feathers, merged with them and the sparkling rays of the whole illuminated the troop, piercing the darkness of the night, A night that they had caught up with, leaving behind the sun and its warmth, rediscovering for a short time, but long ago, the coolness of the night, then the morning dew that gently drenched the skin, causing a few drops to bead their way down their cheeks, imitating tears, before finally crossing into a fine source of intoxication and joy. Without even realising it, Epikrates and his companions reached a mountain range, Danae then descended in altitude, everyone following her, and she landed quietly below the rocky cliffs, in the folds of the valley, near a stream from which a few fish, trout and chub, were hopping desperately to swim upstream, to reach the divine heights, to rise towards the heavens. The weather was fine, and a gentle breeze was blowing, making the warriors' long hair dance. Danae approached the rock, touched it, caressed it, and with her little hand, her little fingers, she tore off a piece of stone and cried out :
- From this rock you will build your houses
And she threw the stone on the ground, a stone that became rock, a rock that became a wall, and a wall that became a dwelling, the first of all buildings. Then Danae turned to the noisy water of the torrent, which flowed with a roar, took some in her hands, brought it to her mouth, then spat it towards the heavens, causing a sudden rain to fall, a brief but intense rain. Every drop that touched the ground, the grass, the people, the trees, purified them, cleansed them, and gave birth to life, flowers, fruit, children. Danae spoke again :
- Every day that a short but intense rain, a downpour similar to the deluge in its flow, but like the blinking of an eyelid in its duration, pours down, she will give you everything you need, food. And she showed you the fruit of the trees, the animals that came to feed on the herbs fresh from the earth. She will give you offspring, she pointed to the pregnant women who were holding their stomachs, looking cheerful. It will cleanse you, both physically and mentally. And finally, from her rich virtues you will obtain your wealth, her power is so great, that only she can make the cherry trees that surround you blossom, her sublime trees that give flowers so pink, so white, that with you can colour all the stones, all the tunics and all your skins. Make this complexion your emblem and your strength. This is the end of your journey, this is the end, and of the fine flower, of your lure, you will come to an end. When you feel death coming, eat the bark of the cherry tree, eat its fruit and its blossom, then death will seem sweet to you, and you will enter the dreams of immortality, and from your end, thousands of blossoms will be born, and so the cycle can continue, indefinitely towards the end.
They all turned their attention to the cherry trees, which were blossoming one after the other, their windswept flowers covering the heroes' faces and monopolising their attention. Danae took advantage of this moment to slip away. As if she had never been there, she left without saying anything, without leaving anything behind except her previous words. Since then, every cycle, the Kvasir have celebrated Epikranne, when the cherry trees blossom, the moment that heralds both the beginning and the end, life and death, and so on.
End
YOU ARE READING
From dawn to dusk
FantasyA fantastic tale about two tribes fleeing a major climatic disaster, set in a fantastic universe, like a mythological tale. But will these two tribes make it? Read on to find out.
