A Black Kami, undoubtedly from the jungle, floated over the crib. Taking several steps back, the Fyros hit the wall and fell backwards. Eutis rushed to the doorway, but the damage was done: the Kami was gone.

A Black Kami, undoubtedly from the jungle, floated over the crib. Taking several steps back, the Fyros hit the wall and fell backwards. Eutis rushed to the doorway, but the damage was done: the Kami was gone.

:''"If you had warned me that one of these terrifying creatures had infiltrated the home of my ancestors, I might have reacted otherwise!" the Fyros railed as he painfully stood up.

:''"If you had warned me that one of these terrifying creatures had infiltrated the home of my ancestors, I might have reacted otherwise!" the Fyros railed as he painfully stood up.

:''"I don't remember. You know very well that the flow of time dilates when I stare at you too long."

:''"I don't remember. You know very well that the flow of time dilates when I stare at you too long."

:''"I don't remember. You know very well that the flow of time dilates when I stare at you too long."

:''"I don't remember. You know very well that the flow of time dilates when I stare at you too long."

Now standing, Belenor tried to comb his red hair, disheveled by her unexpected nap, and put back her beautiful beige linen tunic. Her vertigo was passing.

Now standing, Belenor tried to comb his red hair, disheveled by her unexpected nap, and put back her beautiful beige linen tunic. Her vertigo was passing.

Brandille abruptly jumped up on the table and raised her arms to the sky. For a few moments, her loose purple clothes and multicolored braids seemed to float.

Brandille abruptly jumped up on the table and raised her arms to the sky. For a few moments, her loose purple clothes and multicolored braids seemed to float.

The Fyros smiled and gathered his belongings scattered on his writing table. The parchment he had been dozing on was moist with saliva.

The Fyros smiled and gathered his belongings scattered on his writing table. The parchment he had been dozing on was moist with saliva.

Brandille did a salto and landed with both feet on a rough step of the amphitheater. The child waved to an absent audience and climbed the stairs in a hurry.

Brandille did a salto and landed with both feet on a rough step of the amphitheater. The child waved to an absent audience and climbed the stairs in a hurry.

The acrobat placed his hands behind his back, took a superior air and a serious voice.

The acrobat placed his hands behind his back, took a superior air and a serious voice.

Belenor, who had finished putting his belongings away, took the stairs in turn. Brandille put an arm around his waist and the two children left the amphitheater.

Belenor, who had finished putting his belongings away, took the stairs in turn. Brandille put an arm around his waist and the two children left the amphitheater.

The Fyros raised his eyes to the sky.

The Fyros raised his eyes to the sky.

For the friendship between the two children, both nine years old, was based above all on their common taste for art and their overflowing creativity. Bélénor drew and wrote fiction. Brandille drew, composed songs, wrote poetry, staged plays, and knew how to juggle and dance. And like two muses, both supported and inspired each other.

For the friendship between the two children, both nine years old, was based above all on their common taste for art and their overflowing creativity. Bélénor drew and wrote fiction. Brandille drew, composed songs, wrote poetry, staged plays, and knew how to juggle and dance. And like two muses, both supported and inspired each other.

Finally, after a few minutes of walking through the hollowed-out and nicely decorated corridors of the Academy, the two comrades passed through the great archway and found daylight again. Going down the imposing staircase, they reached the streets of Fyre, the incredible capital of the Fyros Empire. The foundations of what would later become the flagship city of the Desert had been laid two centuries earlier, when the previously nomadic Fyros began to settle down. And the location was not chosen at random. The cave city was built in a broken section of the Dragon's Ridge, the gigantic continental shelf that separated the southern part of the Desert, administered by the Fyros Empire, from the hostile and infinite ocean of dunes to the north. The crack in which the Fyros set up their city, covering several dozen square kilometers, was the probable remnant of a prehistoric catastrophe. In this place, the network of crevasses of the plateau offered multiple advantages: protection against predators, a slight but appreciable coolness, and even a little water, produced by condensation in its deepest caves. If the majority of the city's dwellings were dug directly into the high bark walls, some of which could reach a hundred meters, many buildings had been built in a more traditional way, and were bathed with light every day. For despite its semi-underground construction, the city was never short of light, as the daystar never left the zenith, but simply lost  of its radiance once night came. Combined with the relative coolness of the streets of Fyre, the sunshine also allowed for the practice of a rudimentary agriculture of drought-resistant vegetables. Finally, a large wall and guard towers had been built further down the plateau, where the crevices overlooked the desert of dunes. But in truth, few were Fyros tribes not subject to the Fyros Empire daring to approach Fyre, and never before had the armies of the Matis Kingdom penetrated so deeply into the desert west.

Finally, after a few minutes of walking through the hollowed-out and nicely decorated corridors of the Academy, the two comrades passed through the great archway and found daylight again. Going down the imposing staircase, they reached the streets of Fyre, the incredible capital of the Fyros Empire. The foundations of what would later become the flagship city of the Desert had been laid two centuries earlier, when the previously nomadic Fyros began to settle down. And the location was not chosen at random. The cave city was built in a broken section of the Dragon's Ridge, the gigantic continental shelf that separated the southern part of the Desert, administered by the Fyros Empire, from the hostile and infinite ocean of dunes to the north. The crack in which the Fyros set up their city, covering several dozen square kilometers, was the probable remnant of a prehistoric catastrophe. In this place, the network of crevasses of the plateau offered multiple advantages: protection against predators, a slight but appreciable coolness, and even a little water, produced by condensation in its deepest caves. If the majority of the city's dwellings were dug directly into the high bark walls, some of which could reach a hundred meters, many buildings had been built in a more traditional way, and were bathed with light every day. For despite its semi-underground construction, the city was never short of light, as the daystar never left the zenith, but simply lost  of its radiance once night came. Combined with the relative coolness of the streets of Fyre, the sunshine also allowed for the practice of a rudimentary agriculture of drought-resistant vegetables. Finally, a large wall and guard towers had been built further down the plateau, where the crevices overlooked the desert of dunes. But in truth, few were Fyros tribes not subject to the Fyros Empire daring to approach Fyre, and never before had the armies of the Matis Kingdom penetrated so deeply into the desert west.

Belenor smiled again.

Belenor smiled again.

Brandille kissed her friend on the cheek, winked at him, and gambolled gracefully toward the residential areas. Belenor stared at his sandals for a moment. As he had already noticed, his muse sometimes seemed to float. In fact, he would have sworn that, once airborne, it took Brandille longer to hit the ground than other Trykers or Fyros. But more than his apparent lightness, it was his constant agitation that fascinated Belenor. For Brandille was never inert, physically or intellectually. Belenor had no memory of an immobile Brandille. No memory of an idle Brandille. Brandille was the very definition of Movement. Of Vitality. And even when her muse slept, she wriggled and hummed. Belenor took advantage of the moment and waited to see her disappear into the crowd. Then he went to the opposite side, to the beautiful districts.

Brandille kissed her friend on the cheek, winked at him, and gambolled gracefully toward the residential areas. Belenor stared at his sandals for a moment. As he had already noticed, his muse sometimes seemed to float. In fact, he would have sworn that, once airborne, it took Brandille longer to hit the ground than other Trykers or Fyros. But more than his apparent lightness, it was his constant agitation that fascinated Belenor. For Brandille was never inert, physically or intellectually. Belenor had no memory of an immobile Brandille. No memory of an idle Brandille. Brandille was the very definition of Movement. Of Vitality. And even when her muse slept, she wriggled and hummed. Belenor took advantage of the moment and waited to see her disappear into the crowd. Then he went to the opposite side, to the beautiful districts.

L’enfant, déjà très frêle pour un Fyros, paraissait minuscule face au colosse qui lui faisait face. Certes, Varran était de cinq ans son aîné. Cependant, il n’en demeurait pas moins particulièrement costaud pour son âge. Bélénor soutint son regard.

L’enfant, déjà très frêle pour un Fyros, paraissait minuscule face au colosse qui lui faisait face. Certes, Varran était de cinq ans son aîné. Cependant, il n’en demeurait pas moins particulièrement costaud pour son âge. Bélénor soutint son regard.