Chapter CHAPTER X: ARAMORDT (8)

“Promise you will tell us the truth” exclaimed Erin. “Only the truth, and the whole truth.”

“I promise you I will always tell you the truth, my daughter” exclaimed Wiz. “You will not regret it!”

“But sir,” interrupted Dāel, “these beings will not be able to adapt in our realm with that physical state. They would need to be turned into dragons, and I do not cr–”

“And so it will be. Make space, Dāel!”

The Golden King roared an impotent navy blue fire, which stormed the entire cave of the place. The fire was divided into three ranges of blue, towards the three siblings. They screamed in pain, and their bodies began to levitate again. Their limbs increased, their faces took a broad figure. Their mouths turned into snouts, and from their backs it engendered a thick, elongated tail.

The Agnaroks turned their human bodies into Dragon bodies, and when the transformation was completed, their bodies fell on the ground and the Golden King stopped his imposing burst of blue fire.

“Sir, you have done it!” exclaimed Dāel.

“Of course I have! This was even simpler than the previous one” replied Wiz.

The three siblings had become dragons of the Fire Lineage entirely, robust and compact. They were short and medium height, for they were still quite young.

“Let’s see,” said Wiz. “These land names are not going to be useful for us in The Gardens. We must change them.”

“Timotheo, your Dragonary version will be: Temodt” he told him.

“Cristof, your Dragonary version, and name will be Reynavé.” he said.

“And for you, Erin,” he continued. “Your Dragonary version will be stated after the name of Hera.”

“Now, children, follow me!” exclaimed the Golden King. “I will take you to the fantastic Kingdom of Dragons!”

Thus, Wiz and Dāel flew off at full speed, while the three siblings flew by instinct and learned to control it in the flying road. They ascended and descended through the sky, and the first rays of the great star illuminated them all over the place. Outlining the true projection of the adventurous beginning, from the three miraculous creatures.

On the ground, however, the sky was covered with hopeless smoke. The south was covered with asphyxiating curtains of despondency and despair. In the gray place there was only one person. A sorceress. She watched from side to side, confused, shouting for her children, for her King, but only the terrifying silence received her.

She felt the terror of the unbearable. The loss of her family, the loss of her people, the loss of her life. The terrifying screams of the woman echoed in the mountains, and through these, the dark event was announced in the nearest regions. Sadness spread throughout the high mountain ranges.

In front of her was the Anaís Forest, inviting her to start over. The woman couldn’t even get up, but a low spirit was before her. It had no form, it was like a small spectrum that just stood in fron of her. Resting on the weak branches of a dry tree.

“I´m Athäir, messenger of Elgoneth” said the spirit. “He has sent me here to accompany you in this difficult time, but also to guide you in the new journey that awaits you. Now, why are you crying?”

“What not to cry about, my friend” said the woman. “It’s the end. I don’t really know where this road is leading me. I´ve lost everything. My children, my King, my mother, my kingdom, my love. How have I survived? Why do I have survived? These feelings do not give me a light, nor any color of hope. It’s all my fault, my Father warned me in my dreams. And for not wanting to accept my destiny, I have made everything worse, and it has been darker than it could have imagined. I am unworthy for his purposes. I don’t know anything about what will happen now, and life, as always, is quiet.”

“The forest calls you, you know it” the messenger replied. “In order to move forward, you must forgive yourself. You must forgive life, and you must trust Elgoneth’s will. This is really the best for you, even if you don’t see it now. And as difficult as this place is, the only way to survive is by passing through it. Do not look back, the way of life is forward. From what awaits us beyond, it will remain a mystery. But if you keep going, you’ll find these colors again. And one day you will rise; you will succeed correctly as of who and what you are. And happiness will find you again.”

“How do I know I will find it again?” said the woman.

“Because you are not alone” said the messenger. “You have never been, and never will be. The Light is with you, and I will guide you until you reach your glory. I will not leave your side until you meet yourself. And when you discover the yoke of joy, you’ll know. When you find the fullness, you will know. When we reach the relentless victory, you will feel the heat of it running through your blood. And when we reach the sweet light of life, we will rejoice as a child rejoices in the arms of his mother.”

The woman got up, took one last look back, and then turned her gaze to the forest before the spirit continued.

“We must be strong. For, if we do not move, this hell that happens inside your heart will get stronger, and this depressing pressure will increase; if we don´t stop it, it will continue to puncture the outbreak of the nascent feelings of your soul. You will recover the vividness of your spirit. If we do not save ourselves, no one will do it, and life will not delight its beauty in the one who is not prepared to receive it. These are the tests that interest Elgoneth the most. Because here, at the bottom of the disappointments, finding yourself weak in mind and heart, receiving a beating while you are already on the ground, unable to get up, without having a way out: is where the real heroes are forged and born, the agents of change, the leaders of the world. And you my dear Amalia, you are called to be part of these. You are called to create such a great love, to hold you when you fall again. It is about the Divine Plan of the Architect of Life, and the destiny entrusted to you, if you decide to accept it. Will you accept it?”

“We are the newborns, Athäir” said the woman. “Amalia died in these lands, along with everything she was. We are already the chosen ones. We already are those beings where hope resides.”

The sorceress looked to her left side, and on the floor was the magical book. She reached into one of the pockets of her magical green robe, and found Argôn’s bracelet, a unique memory of him. These were the only two things she had left. She put the bracelet on her right hand. With her left hand she picked up the book from the floor. She raised her forehead and looked into the deep clearing of the vast forest. She lifted her cloak, her face became serious; her eyes changed to an amber vivid color. Her gaze emanated security once again.

She looked at the horizon of the destroyed kingdom one last time, before returning her gaze to the depths of the Great Forest.

“Call me, Leyra.”

Thus, Leyra was begotten, and quickly entered the depths of the Anaís Forest. Leaving her life behind; along with the new illuminated guide. Starting a new path in history. The path, of the newborns.