Zibaë, the mysteries of the other world volume 1: Ghosts of the past

1-Arthème (year 2030): The advent of the dictator

"Clack." The sharp sound of the door closing surprises me.

In order to see the newcomer, I gradually come out of my meditation. I delicately open my eyes, re-emerging in the middle of the vast dark room; as it was when I closed them.

In front of me, a slender figure steps forward. Its solerets crunch on the polished parquet floor. Instantly, I recognize the identity of my visitor.

-You never knew how to walk discreetly, Nabra.

The shadow stops abruptly, spreading its large white wings piercing the darkness of the room.

Nabra lets out a deep sigh of disappointment. With a snap of his fingers, he lights the twenty torches adorning the walls. The apparent light reveals Nabra's impassive face. The armor he wears shimmers with immaculate splendor.

In a dark voice, he says:

-Even though I ended up acquiring a rank higher than yours, I still can't surprise you...

Enviously, my eyes land on the gold medal that adorns his breastplate. Reading the inscription "Séraphin Tribune" there, I feel a pang of jealousy of which I am ashamed. The pride I feel for Nabra is sincere; However, I cannot hide the fact that I would like, more than anything, to be in his place.

He deserves this badge, which he has recently worn. Reaching such a prestigious rank is a true honor. My wings quiver just thinking about it.

-I guess if you came here, it's for a very specific reason. So I listen to you.

-Humans are preparing to go through dark days; as we predicted.

-Light and darkness are inseparable. One cannot exist without the other. Just look at us, with the Forsaken.

Hearing the name of our enemies, Nabra cannot hide his aversion through a grimace.

He quickly regains his composure, continuing his story:

-You do well to mention them, because they are precisely the source of the problem.

-I suspect it.

-The influence they hold over human political decisions; has reached a new level of debauchery.

With a nod of his head, he tells me to follow him.

As difficult as it may be, after spending almost five hours meditating, sitting on the floor; I get up, my body aching, with aches. Out of habit, I grab my sword, stored in its sheath, which I had placed on the table; then hang it on my belt.

Without him having to tell me, I already know where he's taking me. We cross the large, dark and deserted courtyard of the temple, illuminated, in places, thanks to the moonlight.

The echo of our footsteps, accompanied by the creaking of Nabra's armor, breaks the soothing calm of the night.

As I expected, at an intersection, we turn right, towards the temple at the back, guarded by a Leprechaun. The latter, recognizing us, takes out a set of keys from the pocket of his blue overalls and unlocks the door. With a nod, we thank the tiny creature, before entering the narrow, dark room.

Nabra points to the mirror, arranged in a corner. In a nostalgic tone, I declare:

-It's been ages since I used the powers of this mirror...

-Don't worry, its use is still the same.

I walk towards the ancient relic, contemplating my reflection, which grows larger with each of my steps. The golden frame of this mirror has always sublimed me.