Chapter 150: The Rebirth of Ysolongue’s Castle.

The next morning, beneath a clear blue sky, Sakolomé, dressed in an elegant dark coat, stood upright beside his enthusiastic sister Salomé and his brother Bakuran, who looked visibly half-awake. Their mother, Amu, stood before them, arms crossed, looking at her children with gentle gravity.

— Take care of each other… and remember, Sakolomé, the words I told you, she whispered.

Sakolomé nodded with a tender smile.

— I will remember, mother. We'll come back in one piece.

A luminous portal opened in the air, vibrating with mythical power. A light breeze blew through their hair as they approached.

— See you very soon! Salomé called out energetically, making a little jump.

Amu waved to them. The trio sprang forward.

The portal closed behind them… and they immediately reappeared in the world of myths.

The landscape that greeted them was magnificent: a violet sky with golden clouds, translucent lakes reflecting trees with blue leaves, and a light mist dancing close to the ground like a living breath.

Shushu, quietly perched on Salomé's head, widened his round eyes.

— Wow… finally back here.

Rivhiamë, in Sakolomé's mind, observed with a certain nostalgia.

"It's been a while since I last set foot here…"

Sakolomé replied mentally, amused:

"You should thank me. Thanks to me, you're treading these lands again."

"Tsk. You say that like I owe you. But… yeah. Thanks anyway."

Meanwhile, Salomé ran from tree to tree, observing every plant, every stone with fascination. Bakuran, for his part, stared admiringly at strange creatures flying in the distance.

— What are those beasts? Fairies? Spirits?!

— Calm down, you two… Sakolomé said, crossing his arms. We're not here for a sightseeing tour. We're going to see Ysolongue.

So they set off.

The path led them to the ruined castle, the lair of the dragoness. Frozen in time, the castle stood atop a promontory, covered in moss and forgotten, yet still radiating a faint glow of former days.

On a flat stone at the entrance, Ysolongue sat. Her gaze lit up as soon as she saw them.

— I was expecting you, she said in a peaceful tone.

Sakolomé stepped forward with a smile.

— This is Salomé, my little sister, and Bakuran, my younger brother.

— It's an honor, Salomé said with an almost royal salute.

— Hey, Bakuran mumbled with a charming smile, his curious eyes already sliding over Ysolongue's refined features.

Ysolongue inclined her head, sincerely delighted.

— I am very happy to meet you. Welcome to my home.

Salomé swept her gaze over the surroundings, her enthusiasm fading a bit upon seeing the collapsed walls and broken turrets.

— This is where you live, Ysolongue?

— Exactly. This castle is all I have left…

— You couldn't take care of it?! Salomé exclaimed, hands on hips. It's in a pitiful state!

Ysolongue blinked, surprised by the young girl's blunt honesty.

— Oh… yes? You think I should have maintained it?

She lowered her eyes, a bit ashamed.

— Hmm… maybe you're right. I'll fix that.

Salomé smiled, arms crossed.

— We'll fix it, right my beloved big brothers?!

She cast a mischievous look at Bakuran and Sakolomé.

The two concerned looked at each other, then scratched their heads with almost comical synchronization.

— Uh… Salomé should know that… Sakolomé began.

— Would you really agree to help me?! Ysolongue interrupted, eyes shining. That's so kind!!

Sakolomé sighed, trapped.

— Of course we're going to help you, what do you think…?

— Wonderful! Ysolongue said, eyes sparkling.

— Great! Salomé exclaimed. I feel like we're going to have a lot of fun!

Bakuran shrugged.

— As long as I can meet some pretty mythical creatures during the work…

Sakolomé, at the center of it all, watched the scene for a moment with a mixture of amusement and comfort. Ysolongue's castle would soon regain its shine…

The work began at dawn the next day.

No magic. Just hands, arms, legs… and lots of willpower.

Bakuran, shirtless, carried tree trunks on his shoulders grimacing, while Salomé energetically hammered stone blocks to shape them.

— Hey Bakuran, try not to drop a trunk on my foot, please! she shouted.

— If you don't want damage, stay at a safe distance! he growled, staggering under the weight.

Sakolomé knelt near a bucket, mixing mud, sand, and straw to make a solid paste.

— This paste is perfect for making bricks. With good sun drying, it will last for years, he explained.

— Where did you learn that? Salomé asked, crushing a stone with a mallet.

— From father. He taught me how to build a shelter without magic. I didn't think it would come in handy here…

In a surprisingly relaxed atmosphere, the days passed.

The first day was devoted to gathering materials: wood, stone, clay, weaving herbs.

The second, to cleaning the castle foundations, bailing out debris, and stabilizing the walls still standing.

— You know you could help us with a telekinesis spell? Bakuran remarked to Ysolongue.

— I swore not to use magic for this reconstruction. I want it to be real, she replied, wiping sweat from her forehead.

On the third day, the walls began to rise.

Sakolomé guided the measurements while Salomé placed the bricks with almost military precision.

— Leave a centimeter of margin, or it cracks in the heat, she told Bakuran.

— Got it, boss… he murmured, placing the hundredth brick wearily.

Even Shushu had been enlisted.

Perched on a small platform, he held a giant brush between his paws and daubed paint on the finished stones with ridiculous pride.

— I'm contributing too! he proclaimed joyfully.

The evenings were the sweetest.

By the light of a campfire, they all settled around Ysolongue who, wrapped in a blanket, told tales of old.

— Before the split, the Heirs lived here… Some shaped rain with their breath, others made the winds sing.

— They were all bound by an ancient pact, she added, her voice a little distant.

— Why was this pact broken? Salomé asked, attentive.

— Ego, jealousy… evils that creep even among the most powerful. But today… maybe this castle will become a symbol of unity again.

They stayed there listening, fascinated, lulled by the sounds of the mythical world's wind, soft as an ancient melody.

In the following days, they built the framework.

Bakuran climbed onto the beams, nailing them with impressive vigor, while Salomé passed the boards, her hair tied in a ponytail.

— I've never sweat this much in my life, he grumbled jumping from a pillar.

— You whine like an old man, Salomé mocked. Want Shushu to fan you?

— I'M VERY BUSY, the animal retorted, splashing everyone with a bucket of purple paint.

They all burst out laughing.

A week later, the windows were repaired, the roof completely rebuilt, the stairs reshaped, and the great meeting hall cleaned and repainted. They even spent an entire day polishing the old stones of Ysolongue's throne.

— It looks brand new! she marveled, caressing the silver-painted banister.

To celebrate the completion of the work, Ysolongue brought out from the castle cellar a carafe with rainbow reflections.

— This juice is extracted from the sacred Lunafleur flower of Aelion. An ancient drink that only worthy artisans can taste.

She poured the liquid into cups carved from mythical gold.

— What exactly are we drinking? Bakuran asked, suspicious.

— The taste is between honey and frozen fruit, Ysolongue replied with a smile. And it's so pure that even the gods can dream of it. Hahaha.

They raised their cups and toasted.

— To reconstruction! Salomé shouted.

— To the end of ruins, Bakuran added.

— To Ysolongue, Sakolomé smiled. And to the future we will rebuild.

They drank, and a shiver of light passed through each of them. An infinite well-being, as if their very souls had tasted peace.

The moon rose high in the sky. Laughter rose from the now sparkling castle.

And in the air floated something Ysolongue had not felt for a long time…

Hope.