Chapter 146: The Breath of the Beginning of the World of Myths: Ysolongue’s Story

They were seated in the castle garden, among flowering grasses and mossy stones. The gentle wind blew through the ruins, carrying a scent of times long past.

Ysolongue lifted her eyes to the sky, her voice rising slowly, like a prayer:

— "There was a time… a time no one really tells anymore… when everything began with a beating of wings. The Dragon God Orlongue flew in the Outer Void. His immense body could hold entire worlds in his breath, and his light gave birth to the world of myths."

Sakolomé listened silently, fascinated.

— "Orlongue was the creator father of the world of myths. He breathed Life and Order. And, like every wise god, he did not want to reign alone. So he begot ten children. Each received a name, a breath, a sacred function, and a sacred role. We were called the Supreme Heirs. The children of Orlongue. Each of us bore our father's name in homage: Longue."

She smiled faintly.

— "I am the tenth. Ysolongue, the pink dragoness, guardian of emotions. I was the last-born. The one who bore the heart. But before me, there were all of them…"

Her voice grew more solemn, as if reciting a sacred memory:

— "Zelongue, red dragon, guardian of eternal war and sacred fire.

Cylongue, blue dragon, master of stellar oceans and deep dreams.

Thralongue, green dragoness, protector of sacred beasts and mythical forests.

Vulolongue, golden dragon, lord of pacts, secrets, and treasures.

Nyxlongue, purple dragoness, mistress of shadows and nocturnal enigmas.

Sylongue, white-silver dragoness, incarnation of luminous song and peace.

Draklongue, gray dragon, guardian of perfect balance between all things.

Ixlongue, indigo dragon, guardian of portals and laws of passage between worlds.

And finally… Arlongue, the black dragon… The proudest. The most unstable."

Ysolongue fixed the horizon for a few seconds, then spoke without even turning her head:

— "This castle… was not only my home. It was our hearth."

Sakolomé blinked.

— "Huh?"

Ysolongue:

— "I mean… that of the other Heirs and me.

All ten of us. The children of Orlongue. We were united once. This place resonated with our songs, our joyful quarrels, our flames and our breaths. Arlongue, Zelongue, Cylongue, Thralongue, Vulolongue… all of them. Even Draklongue, with his eternal neutrality, sometimes laughed. This castle was alive. It was not just a shelter — it was a symbol: the heart of the world of myths."

She paused, lightly touching the balcony's edge with a trembling finger, as if caressing a fossilized memory.

— "I was the youngest. The little last one. The one who sang at night, who comforted warriors, who cried at the slightest quarrel between my brothers and sisters. They called me 'the Heart of the Castle.' I thought… I could keep them united forever."

Sakolomé felt something crack within her as she spoke.

— "But… time is cruel, even for divine dragons. Their greatness… their pride… began to turn against them. They started comparing themselves, judging each other, wanting to shine alone. Arlongue claimed to be the strongest; Vulolongue demanded to be the richest; Zelongue claimed the greatest battles. Each wanted to become the supreme heir above the others."

She closed her eyes painfully.

— "I did everything to bring them together. Songs, memories, festivals… Nothing worked. Their ego became a living entity. A black fire, creeping, invisible… Until it took form."

Sakolomé frowned.

— "What form?"

She nodded.

— "Nihlorgue. Yes… The Dragon of the Void. He was born neither from an act nor forbidden love… but from a common refusal. A fracture. A shared arrogance. We did not beget him… We invited him. It was our punishment. Nihlorgue is the sum of our silences, our grudges, our jealousies… He is the echo of what we refused to settle."

Her voice now vibrated with deep sorrow.

— "He appeared one night when the sky held no stars. None of us understood what was happening. He had no face, no gaze, no breath. But as he approached, silence devoured us. His scales reflected what we could have become if we all gave in to our pride. A living mirror of our own ruin."

Sakolomé: "And he… defeated you?"

Ysolongue lowered her head, voice broken.

— "Yes. Each of my brothers and sisters, cut down like leaves, not by his power… but by the disintegration of their essence. He did not wound them: he desecrated them. No more name, no more function. They fell, one after another, reduced to oblivion. I don't know how I survived… Maybe because I did not confront him… Maybe because I was the least tainted. Or maybe because in me still remained a true love for each of them."

She paused long. Shushu, silent on Sakolomé's shoulder, averted his eyes with unusual respect.

— "When Nihlorgue vanished into the world of myths, the castle was in ruins. But instead of bringing us together… this tragedy separated us even more. Each left. Cylongue to the celestial abysses, Thralongue to the eternal jungles… Arlongue had already merged with a demon. Zelongue howled in battlefields that no longer existed."

— "And you?"

— "I… stayed here. To weep. To wait. To remember. I am the only one still hoping for their return. Even if they are no longer the same… Even if they have forgotten me."

Sakolomé placed a hand on the stone wall, his red eyes shining with an emotion hard to describe.

— "That's why you are so sad, Ysolongue…"

She nodded.

— "Every day, I feel fragments of them… everywhere in the world of myths. Snippets. Rumors. A song of Zelongue in a volcano. An illusion of Nyxlongue in a mist. Memories. And every time, my heart breaks."

She finally turned to him, and for the first time, it was not a dragoness he saw, but a forgotten sister, a survivor, a lonely heart.

— "That is my story, Sakolomé. This castle is not just an abandoned place… it is a mausoleum. A relic of a broken dream."

He dared not answer right away. Then he murmured:

— "You are no longer alone, Ysolongue. I am not a dragon. But I can listen. And if ever… you want to rebuild that dream…"

She smiled. A soft, painful, but living smile.

— "Then maybe not all is lost."

And the wind around them suddenly seemed to sing something new.

Silence weighed over the old garden, only disturbed by the rustling of wind among silver leaves. Ysolongue sat on a stone bench worn by time, eyes staring into the void. Sakolomé stood beside her, attentive, his gaze heavy with questions he dared not yet ask.

Then she broke the silence:

— "Sakolomé... you told me about a certain Kai, didn't you? The one who often came to visit me."

He nodded, not averting his eyes. He felt something serious was about to follow.

— "Kai left… in search of the Elixir of Memory."

— "The Elixir of… memory?" repeated Sakolomé, brow furrowed.

Ysolongue nodded slowly, her misty gaze lost in the clouds.

— "It is a very ancient substance. A single sip, accompanied by a strong enough will… can erase, restore, or even blur any memory. Even the deepest, even those anchored in the soul."

— "And… what does he intend to do with it?" asked Sakolomé, wary.

Ysolongue slowly turned her eyes toward him, a sad smile on her lips.

— "It's not what he intends to do… but what I intend to do."

Sakolomé froze.

— "What do you mean… you?"

She took a long breath, as if gathering strength to continue. Then her voice resumed, almost trembling.

— "Four years ago… a boy arrived here. I had never seen him. Never heard of him. And yet… his body exhaled such suffocating darkness that the air around him seemed to die. He is named, according to recent whispers, Ebon Woe… or the Black Grief."

Sakolomé's breath caught sharply.

— "The… Black Grief?"

She nodded slowly.

— "When he appeared, he did not smile. Not even a spark of humanity in his gaze. He simply said to me: 'Where is Nihlorgue?'"

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if reliving the scene.

— "I don't know how, but he knew… he knew what I was, who I was, even my life before. I tried to deny it, of course… but he saw through me. He knew this castle was my last refuge… the living memory of my days of harmony with my family. He threatened me: 'If you want the castle to remain standing, speak.'"

Sakolomé frowned, shocked.

— "How could he know…?"

— "I don't know," she murmured. "He seemed to read my heart. My last hope was to slow him down. I summoned my most faithful creature: the princess of the elves, my friend, my trusted companion… I sent her to divert him from his goal."

Her voice broke for a moment.

— "But he beheaded her. Without a hint of hesitation. As if she were nothing."

Sakolomé remained silent, frozen.

— "Kai was there. He threw himself into the battle, with all his strength, all his bravery. But nothing worked. Ebon Woe… not only dominated the fight, but he grew stronger. He emitted an energy… a form of divine mana, Sakolomé. And he is not a Deviant. Not a god. Just… a human."

She shook her head, as if she herself could hardly believe it.

— "The fight became torture. He enjoyed breaking Kai. And then he said: 'In five seconds, I finish him and blow up this castle.' I was afraid. So afraid… I had no strength to resist. I begged. I prostrated myself. And I spoke. I told him where to find Nihlorgue."

She lowered her head.

— "He didn't even answer. He just… left."

Sakolomé felt a knot in his chest. He had never imagined Ysolongue on her knees, broken.

— "After he left, I was… destroyed. I healed Kai. And I asked him to leave. To bring me the Elixir. Because I decided…"

Her voice trembled. A silent tear slid down her cheek.

— "…to forget everything."

— "What?" whispered Sakolomé.

She raised eyes filled with immense distress toward him.

— "I am tired of being weak. Of being tied to this world, to its destiny. Of being haunted by my memories, by my broken family, by my failures. I no longer want to be the nostalgic guardian of this castle. I want to be free. To erase. To start over. To be… someone else."

— "And Kai? Does he accept… that?"

Ysolongue gave a veiled smile.

— "In exchange for the Elixir, I promised him something: I will make him a Deviant."

Sakolomé remained silent. The sky darkened slowly above them.

— "It's not a reward," she added. "It's a legacy. I can no longer bear this burden, Sakolomé… So he will carry a fragment of me."