A new day at the restored castle…
The sun filtered gently through the repaired windows of the castle. The rays licked the great dining hall, now clean and bright. On the large wooden table, glasses of floral water stood proudly, still fresh.
Sakolomé was sitting at one end of the table, his hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. Shushu, as usual, lounged nonchalantly on his head, yawning and playing with a lock of hair. Opposite, Bakuran was slouched, arms crossed, a teasing smile on his lips.
"Hey, Sakolomé," Bakuran said with a mock serious look, "do you think I have a chance with the girls from the world of myths?"
Sakolomé slowly turned his head towards him, one eyebrow raised.
"I'm serious, you know!" Bakuran continued. "There must be… I don't know… fairies, dryads, mermaids, maybe even a single dragoness looking for love?"
Shushu burst out laughing, waving his little paws.
"You? With a mythical creature? She'll turn you into a hedgehog before you can even say hello!"
"Shut up, pocket gremlin!" Bakuran protested, pointing a finger at Shushu. "You'll see! One day, I'll bring a stunning elven goddess here, and you won't be so cocky."
"You mean you're going to get another cosmic rejection?" Shushu asked, laughing.
Sakolomé tried to keep a straight face, but his lips trembled with laughter.
"You should focus on training instead of playing the legend Casanova," he finally said, laughing softly.
"One doesn't prevent the other, big brother," Bakuran replied, flexing his arm muscles. "I have a heart, but also biceps!"
"And a brain?" Shushu asked, deadpan.
Before Bakuran could reply, the large door creaked open, and a delicious smell filled the room. A smell that silenced all the teasing at once.
"What are you talking about?" Ysolongue asked with a big smile, carrying a huge tray.
Behind her, Salomé, also wearing an apron, carried a second tray overflowing with colorful vegetables, juicy fruits, and still steaming herbs.
"Here!" Ysolongue exclaimed proudly. "Cooking contest with Salomé! We got carried away by the competition, so it took a bit of time…"
"But it was worth it!" added Salomé, placing her tray down with a small mocking bow.
However, the words of the two young women almost faded into oblivion: Sakolomé, Bakuran, and Shushu stared at the dishes as if hypnotized.
On the golden plates rested magnificent pieces of finely roasted meat, marinated in myranda sap, accompanied by caramelized vegetables, crunchy petals, and a still steaming sacred fruit juice.
"My… respects…" Bakuran breathed, eyes shining.
"It's art…" added Sakolomé.
"It's a feast of the gods," murmured Shushu, already licking his paw.
As they prepared to dive into the dishes, a calm voice rose inside Sakolomé, slightly annoyed.
Rivhiamë (internally): How can you still feel hunger when you have surpassed the structuring and intentional causality? You shouldn't even feel such things anymore… You live with your being, Sakolomé.
Sakolomé, fork suspended in the air, answered internally with a small smile:
"Sorry Rivhiamë, but I can't do without the taste of a good well-cooked meat."
Rivhiamë: I suppose it's just your habits that remain… but don't forget, you should think about training to master your new skills and your new nature.
"I know… starting tomorrow, I'll get back to it," he promised.
Returning to reality, he saw that everyone had already served themselves. Shushu was burying his head in a salad of purple petals while Bakuran was chewing like an ogre.
"Hey! You didn't wait for me?!" Sakolomé protested, grabbing a plate.
"Sorry, dreamer," Bakuran replied with his mouth full. "Your stomach didn't seem very evolved to us!"
"Cosmic laws can wait," added Shushu with a bone in his mouth.
Ysolongue watched them laugh, a hand resting against her cheek. Seeing the three siblings quarrel, joke, eat, live… warmed her heart. She had never thought, after so many years of solitude, to find such a burst of happiness at the castle again.
"This meal is exceptional, Ysolongue," said Sakolomé, swallowing a piece of meat. "Do you always cook like this?"
"Before, yes… but for a long time, I had no one to cook for," she murmured.
Salomé gently placed a hand on hers.
"Now, you have us."
The gentle silence that followed was like a promise. A breath of warmth in a world of legends.
Bakuran broke the emotion by raising his glass:
"To the sacred meat! And to the cook with golden fingers!"
"And to the incredible stories waiting for us tomorrow!" added Salomé.
"And to Bakuran's future cosmic rejection!" concluded Shushu, laughing.
They all burst out laughing, united around the table.
Evening came.
Ysolongue was sitting on the castle balcony, her hair floating gently with the wind. A melancholic smile adorned her lips as her eyes lost themselves in the horizon, where the sun was slowly setting.
Sakolomé, passing by, spotted her and stopped for a moment. Then, a sly smile, he approached.
"Hey, Ysolongue!"
Surprised, she turned around abruptly.
"Ah… it's you, Sako."
She remained silent for a moment, then, hesitantly:
"Say… can I call you Sako?"
Sakolomé shrugged, relaxed.
"Of course. Lots of people already call me that, you know."
Ysolongue widened her eyes, mock offended.
"Darn… I thought I had found an original nickname!"
Sakolomé let out a small laugh.
"Things happen," he said, sitting beside her.
A moment passed, calm and soothing. He finally looked at her more closely.
"Are you okay?"
Ysolongue turned her eyes toward the horizon, where the sky was tinged with orange. Her smile widened slightly, full of serenity.
"Honestly, Sakolomé… I thank you."
"Thank me? Why?"
She took a deep breath before answering.
"Because… I still can't believe all this is real. It had been so long since I had fun like these last few days… It's strange, you know? Almost unreal."
Sakolomé nodded with a slight smile.
"You see? There was no need to want to erase your memory."
Ysolongue let out a small laugh before nodding gently.
"Yeah… I guess deep down I hoped someone would come to help me. All this time, those around me — Kai, Sally, or even my friend… the one Ebon Woe killed — were only passive witnesses of my pain. But you… you play another role. A much more precious role."
Sakolomé smiled wider, tenderly.
"Don't thank me too soon. Save that for later. When I bring your brothers and sisters back here, to the castle. I'm sure they'll be proud to see this place as bright as it used to be."
Ysolongue laughed softly, her gaze still turned to the sky.
"Hahaha… That's quite possible, yes."
The wind continued to blow softly, caressing the freshly cleaned stones of the balcony. Twilight bathed the world of myths in golden light, as if the universe itself recognized the beginning of a renewal.
As the silence settled gently between them, rocked by the wind and the golden glow of dusk, Sakolomé cast a thoughtful glance at Ysolongue. Something inside him urged him to ask this question, left hanging for too long.
"Tell me, Ysolongue… You are indeed an immensely powerful creature, right? An Heiress capable of elevating humans or lesser creatures to the rank of Deviants?"
Ysolongue slowly nodded without taking her eyes off him.
"Yes, that's right."
Sakolomé inhaled slightly, then continued, more directly:
"So I'd like to understand… why didn't you confront Ebon Woe to defeat him? You could have tried something. I know he had divine mana — even if I have no idea what that precisely means — but an entity like you… capable of transcending fundamental constraints, you must be immensely powerful."
Ysolongue looked away for a moment. She seemed hesitant, as if the answer made her uncomfortable.
"If I didn't confront him," she murmured, "it's because… you'll probably find this stupid, but I hate fights."
Sakolomé's eyes widened, stunned:
"What?!"
Ysolongue gave an embarrassed smile and shrugged gently:
"I know, it's hard to believe. A dragoness heiress, reputed powerful, and yet… I've always avoided confrontations. I think I was never made to fight."
"And why do you say that?" he asked, sincerely curious.
"I don't know… Maybe because I find it all absurd. This constant violence, this cruelty in the very nature of reality… Why can't things just exist in peace? Why always fight?…"
She left her sentence hanging, head bowed, hands resting on her knees, as if confiding for the first time.
Sakolomé looked at her for a moment, touched, then nodded slowly.
"I understand you," he breathed. "If you don't like fighting, you have every right to refuse. But… that's also what exposes you. Given your status, your power, many will seek to abuse your kindness. And somewhere… it's already happened, hasn't it? With the Black Grief…"
Ysolongue remained silent, as if his words had struck her. Then, in an almost inaudible breath:
"You're right. Maybe I should learn to break with this gentle nature, at least sometimes… Maybe it's time to consider defending myself."
Sakolomé straightened up, more determined:
"If you want, I can teach you to fight!"
Ysolongue laughed softly, touched.
"That's kind, Sako. Really. But you know… we dragons are naturally powerful. The sense of combat… it's inscribed in our being, in our fundamental states. It's almost instinctive."
"Ah… okay then," Sakolomé replied with a small disappointed smile. "So… you're going to defend yourself now, right?"
Ysolongue looked up at him and nodded gently.
"I'll try."
But Sakolomé shook his head and, firmly:
"No. Not just try. You will defend yourself, Ysolongue. For you. For those who love you. And to never again be broken by those who take advantage of your kindness."
For a moment, she looked at him silently. Then a radiant smile lit up her face.
"Okay… It won't be easy at first, given my nature… But I'll do everything to succeed."
The wind blew again, softer, as if to approve this new step. The shadows of dusk stretched, but in Ysolongue's eyes, there was now a spark of resolve.
Ysolongue gently turned her eyes toward Sakolomé, her gaze filled with curiosity mixed with trust.
Ysolongue: Sakolomé… I also want to ask you some questions.
Sakolomé, intrigued, raised his head:
"Which ones?"
She stared at the horizon for a few seconds, the wind lifting her hair like silk ribbons.
Ysolongue: How do you plan to bring back my brothers and sisters? You seem confident, but… I don't see how you could manage it.
A silence settled.
Sakolomé lowered his eyes, hesitating. Should he reveal everything? What he knew about Orlongue, the hidden egg, the prophecy? Was this the right moment? After a brief sigh, he made a decision.
Sakolomé: Ysolongue… did you know that the Dragon God Orlongue concealed an eleventh Heiress?
She froze. Her gaze, widened by astonishment, betrayed a mixture of shock and fascination.
Ysolongue: What…?!
Her voice trembled slightly. She seemed to search for a flaw in the words, an error in what she had just heard, but nothing contradicted what he had just stated.