{{NavChap|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter XII - Family]]}}

Exasperated, Belenor leaned against a doorway adjoining the bark wall of the gallery and made Sap circulate his nose. He had never expected to win this race, so after all, he could use a little rest. On the opposite wall of the tunnel, large skylights offered a view of the working-class district of Fyre, whose makeshift dwellings, linked by a network of suspension bridges, were built on the bark walls of a gigantic abyssal shaft. Deprived of daylight, the neighborhood was lit with large torches, obviously combined with the handcrafted fire-fighting systems for which the Fyros were famous. Belenor had been inspired by the working-class district of Fyre to invent the village the hero of his fiction would live in, which he imagined would be built inside a gigantic jungle tree stump, lit largely by lamps containing fireflies. Soothed by this vision, the Fyros sat down and allowed himself to reverie. Unfortunately, the pause was short-lived, for no sooner had his mind escaped than a new runner stopped at his level. In spite of the half-light, Belenor recognized without difficulty his body: muscular buttocks, traced abdominal muscles, veiny forearms, massive shoulders and little developed breast. Xynala. Dressed of a wide panties and a simple bra, the warrior, whose platinum blond hair was maintained by a broad band, put her hands on her chiseled obliques and sighed. From the top of her fifteen years, she fixed him with a severe air.

:''"I'm sorry…. You know them, they're not mean. They're just… a little stupid?"

:''"Because I stopped singing"'', his friend answered immediately.

:''"E... trying and boring."

:''"Well, never mind. We don't have time anyway. Don't forget to pack tight. There are more of you than last year because of the ties... Well, everything is in order. You can go!"

One by one, the winners exited the dressing room and took a staircase leading straight to the grandstand. With each step, the din of the crowd grew louder. Still silent, Belenor watched Melkiar. He wondered how he felt about sharing his title with Xynala. When the first winner reached the tribune, the force of the cheers shook the foundations of the Coliseum. While some were welcoming the ovations with enthusiasm, others, like Belenor and Xynala, seemed particularly ill-at-ease. The Fyros looked around at the huge tide of hominids and wondered if his parents had finally arrived. Both were busy with their respective jobs. But the Academy Games were a special time for the Fyros people to share and attract the farthest tribes of the Desert. So he could hope that his mother and father would be present tonight. But one thing was certain: his nurse Penala, who had come to support him several times today, was probably shedding a tear as she watched him. At the thought, his heart clenched with emotion. When the last of the winners stepped onto the podium and completed the line, Euriyaseus Icaron, still standing in the center of the arena, spoke to calm the crowd. Then, spontaneously, forty thousand eyes went towards the immense balcony which, in front of the tribune of the champions, dominated the Colosseum. Accompanied by his herald, the emperor Thésop advances there. As usual, he is dressed in his imposing black combat armor, his majestic red coat and an astonishing helmet made of enormous horns of animals now disappeared. The herald, holding a leaflet in his hand, speaks.

:''"Yes, I know," the child replied calmly."

Disconcerted, Belenor watched her friend playing with her colorful braids. A mischievous smile appeared on her lips when Brandille returned him his gaze.

Interdicted, Belenor answered by the negative of a movement of head. And when he looked again for the two white stars above the imperial balcony, he did not find them.}}

{{NavChap|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter XII - Family]]}}

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