The Prophecy

Zephir (2)

On the spur of the moment, there was a black hole. Half Moon had an empty head. Like when you absolutely have to concentrate on an important fact and, despite all your efforts, no thought, even the most futile one, emerges in itself. Half-Moon was concentrating. And the more she focused; the more emptiness seized her. The dragon became impatient or jubilant. It was the same thing: it was stomping. Nevertheless, slowly, as if time was of no importance, an idea crept up to Half Moon. It whispered her to look around. "The answer in the question" was the message. And as suddenly as the black hole, the light came. Half Moon understood.

There was no need to struggle, no need to close her mind to herself. No. She had to let herself be immersed by the world. She was no longer this frozen fortress, folded in onto herself, looking at the Outside as an enemy.

She was here, in the prairie of dragons. Better still, she was the meadow, the grass, the wind that played with her hair, until the very drop of rain that made her shiver. It was not only that diffuse and opal light invading her, there was also this multitude of smells, of unknown sensations... She was reborn, but now her mother was Earth and her father the Sky. It seemed to her as if she had been rocked by this universe that she was discovering for an eternity. But while letting this world into her, the words of the enigma came back to her mind. She did not find the solution in a clear and definite way, but she finally answered:

It is the Blood.

Fenril and Flavie had been waiting for long minutes, almost suspending their breaths and stretching their minds towards the only being who could answer this stupid riddle. They had no more time to blame their friend's youthful impetuosity for condemning them to put their lives on the line in this way. And it was a ridiculous game, my goodness. It was pointless. It was a guessing contest led by a faulty gamemaster driving weary, dazed players down roads that all led to the Gates of Forgetfulness... It was lame. It was pathetic. Still, their lives depended on this game, even though they were no longer, of course, dependent on the strength and power of their opponent. Maybe they were going to save themselves in spite of everything; to get out of it. Who knows?

And when they heard the answer, they were blown away. "Blood, why blood? What does it have to do with the enigma? ». They had lost. But it was Half Moon who had wanted to play in the first place, and now they had lost all four of them. They were devastated. Even less than the dragon was. He looked at Half Moon in awe. Then he began to scream, wiggle around, making the wounds, that were trying to heal, reopen. He stomped but this time it was fury.

_ Cheat, you're a cheat. You couldn't have guessed. You cheated!

_Come on, dragon, you know I couldn't cheat, she said calmly.

Immediately, he calmed down.

_ So, since you say you didn't cheat, tell me how you could have figured it out, tell me how!

_ It was the feeling that gave me the solution. Listening to your riddle as I listened to the world, I heard, saw and felt all the emotions it carried. It was a violent, fascinating world, but also gentle and voluptuous. The warmth always came back to my mind as well as the color red. Lava and Ruby. And the light that destroyed my darkness. And an image, a vision of war, of combat, of duel. And finally, the blood that flowed. It is the Blood, isn't it? So, I solved your riddle and I have the right to ask you a question.

The dragon could no longer speak, so great was his anger. He just nodded his head.

_ Beautiful and terrible dragon, I solemnly ask you if Firefly, my gloumy here present, can help you?!

The dragon opened his eyes wide. He had heard it well. Help him, she wanted to help him, nothing else, nothing more? He wanted to answer but again his throat closed. Finally, after taking a deep breath, he answered Half Moon's question: