The Prophecy

The undergrounds of Kahr-O-Tirr: the Wise Trolls men

At the end of the 132 steps of the religious building, Half Moon arrived, breathless, in front of the entrance of the house she had only seen from afar. On either side of the wide-open door, large gold basins were burning. The incense was spreading around volutes of smoke so opaque and so disturbing that the vision was dumbfounded. The heavy smell of incense fell on the breasts, crept into the limbs, seemed to take possession of them. The universe was transformed by it, and if one had had to walk on the ceiling, it would not have surprised Half Moon one moment. She let herself be led by the troll in black toga, who was obviously much more comfortable than she was. The interior of the temple was extraordinary, far more interesting than Kahr-O-Tirr as a whole. From the ceiling fell beings with elongated or narrow shapes, with fine details and at the same time blurred and changing colors. On all sides rose multicolored smoke from innumerable basins. Half Moon felt like floating. Never had she been so serene. It felt as though she was not touching ground when, in fact, she began a new descent. She wasn't sure how she had gotten back down a stairway - she didn't seem to have seen one when she entered the temple. She felt a hand guiding and supporting her. But it was a furtive gesture that vanished into nothingness as soon as Half Moon realized it. Always in front of her, the Troll in the black toga, was moving forward, solemnly. Behind, she was surrounded by Trolls, small enough even for their community, dressed in a shimmering red toga. Further behind them was a long procession of Trolls, spots of color that as one looked up the stairs became lighter and lighter.

I'm sinking into the darkness, Half Moon thought as she turned her gaze back to the troll in black, in front of her, who continued the descent at the same pace.

Then suddenly he stopped. In a niche made in the stone, he took a cane. It threw golden lightning bolts. On its upper end, small rings circulated freely around a round axis. Half Moon observed the slightest gestures of the troll, dazed, as if stranded on unknown land. The troll in black toga raised the cane high and knocked it abruptly on the ground, making the rings clatter. A stubborn silence had invaded the staircase with its triangular ceiling. Everyone was listening to the rings singing in the heart of the echo. The troll then turned around, hesitating for a moment. Next to Half Moon, a hand reached out, finally grabbing the offered cane. Another shock, again and again.

When she came back to herself, she was comfortably installed in the middle of the ten or so colorful cushions, next to a pleasant fire. It was a modest room, rather round, with a perfect vault. A delicate aroma of prepared meat floated in the air. Around the fire, in the center of the room, the Wise Trolls men were installed. They were fewer in number than during the descent. Only those whose togas were the darkest, the blackest were attending.

The troll in black toga sketched a mimic that was meant to be a smile:

_ Depths Syndrome, he suddenly said, is common. But it passes quickly.

_ You have nothing to fear, young girl. Added one of the two to the red dress, as if to affirm its importance to the master in black. It's the air that does that...

_ Lots of spores and slag, added another troll in red who obviously didn't want to be left behind.

They all fell silent as a young person entered the room. They were tall, emaciated, dressed in a robe of leaves and earthy creepers. Their long chestnut hair blended with the living robe. They walked barefoot, looking straight ahead, with a look of steel, carrying a large dish in their hands, which they placed in front of Half Moon. They served the trolls in turn and then withdrew without saying a word.

_She is a Terriac. She never speaks. She is there to serve us.

All was said. Half Moon had no idea what a Terriac was, but understood clearly that she was not allowed to know more. The silence of the meal was precious to her. Again, the feeling of being spied on crept inside her. A feeling all the more unpleasant since she was now alone and at the mercy of these horrible Trolls. She did not dare to watch them eat. The noises they made were enough for her to imagine... And disgust took hold of her. She pushed the dish back towards the fire. To give herself some space, she leaned against the cushions, settled down, turned and tossing around.