15th day of the river season 2441

The Peace Festival, the second largest festival in Daigorn, was held today. People gathered in the heart of the capital, some from other realms: Detmor and Elthen. Of course, it was time to celebrate serenity, empathy and calm. No weapons were allowed on the premises with the exception of the guards, which was a law that was enforced only on that day. It was therefore a perfect opportunity to visit Fayne without much concern, though it had never stopped Azena. She was sneaking between people; some were offended when she touched them by accident.

"Don't you dare touch my purse, little scoundrel!" bellowed a lady with graying haired tied up in a bun.

Azena ignored her despite her urge to insult her because yes, she had learned crude words in the company of commoners. It had been more than a year since she knew the Litfow and she had kept this secret of her family. She was supposed to be with hers, but as usual, she had slipped away.

"At least it was not witch," she said to herself in an attempt to keep her moral up.

She turned into a deserted alley. Her destination: Fayne's home where she was to meet her soon. A brown cat disappeared at her sight as if his life depended on it. Since she adored these feline creatures, Azena watched it, admiring its beautiful tiger coat.

"Hey, watch out!" yelled a whiney voice. "Hey! Hey!"

But Azena could not stop in time; she was going too fast. The members of the two individuals intermingled and they eventually collapsed heavily on the dirty tiled road.

"Well, that's it!" exclaimed the boy.

He looked up to examine the one that had tackled him. The two recognized each other at first glance and like a mirror, they clenched their fists in perfect synchronization.

"You!" bellowed Bentrh, pushing his messy hair with a whim of his head. "I warned you that –"

He had grown up; he was just about to begin his adolescence. It was not a good sign; he was much stronger than Azena, but she had to face him.

"That you were going to kick my ass the next time you saw me in your dilapidated neighborhood," she finished for him.

"Dila, what?" questioned the boy, confused.

"It means falling in ruins, my great genius," insulted the girl vehemently. "Only the Litfow home retains some dignity around here."

The next moment, an angry fist was swung against her right cheek. She fell back to where she had the first time, rubbing her wound with a grimace. She was aware that she had deserved that one. Complex words normally made the commoners react with annoyance. On top of that, she had allowed herself to mock him.

"You dare attack me about my education while you, you little voracious witch, you had the chance, only Elysia knows why, to have access to the most qualified mentors of the area!" Bentrh roared, applying pressure on his knuckles to make them crack. "You're really a piece of shit, an empty shell, just like all those nobles!"

Normally, if one had said these exact words to a noble, the latter would have let himself be possessed by an evil spirit just to curse his instigator. A commoner did not insult a noble. But Azena was different; she did not like associating to social groups. So, she let those insulting words slide and stood up calmly.

"Do you feel better now?"

Bentrh raised his eyebrows, still on the defensive. He raised his fists and placed them in front of his face as if waiting for an attack.

"Watch your tongue or you'll never have another chance to cast one of your spells," he growled.

"My tongue, is it not? That's all?" asked the girl, staring at him coldly.

She knew that conflict on that day was strictly forbidden, but no one was around to witness it. If she could have, she would have turned this vermin into what he was: a field mouse who spends its short life wandering in search of food to steal. It was what he deserved. The seductive desire to strike him had come to haunt her again. It had been a long time... Part of her was afraid of it while the other almost missed it.

She clenched her teeth in an attempt to control the unhealthy urge to rush forward, but Bentrh's hatred-filled gaze was provocative. She smiled, amused by the innocence of the boy facing this side of her. Normally, she did not defend herself physically. And it should not be done, especially on this day. Elysia would punish her. But did the goddess really exist? If so, she gave no sign of life. And besides, how could she have her attention everywhere? Surely... She would not see this incident... Rather, this aggression.

"This deity story...," she murmured softly. "It's just a trick to control the weak-minded."

It was decided: she was not going to believe it without proof.

"What are you talking about, damned crazy girl?" asked the commoner.

"I'm sick of lies, of manipulations, of rules, of social groups," continued Azena while her eyes were still fixed on her interlocutor. "I'm completely fed up... of you!"

At this last word, she felt a strange click in her skull, then for a moment she thought that her personality had been engulfed by nothingness. In fact, it was only calm before the storm. Her emotions returned in an intimidating wave that she would have characterized as boiling and crimson in hue. Without coherent thought, she let her instincts take control. They were far too powerful to do anything anyway.

Her vision blacked out; she could not see anything. She heard a crack and then a plaintive moan.

When her vision returned, she was standing in front of Bentrh who was curled up against the wall of a wooden house. He had one hand on his nose and the other was stretched towards Azena as if he was using it as a shield.

"Azena?" called a girl from behind them. "Is it you who's making all this racket?"

The Kindirah realized with horror what she had done: she had lost control of her rage and had punched Bentrh. It was her first act of violence. She was no longer the same, she was no longer innocent. No, not during the Peace Festival. It was the worst time for that. Panicked, she took a few steps behind. Her movement was blocked by a mass, rather by someone.

"Azena, did you...?" began Fayne, who did not dare finish her sentence.

The brunette was shocked. Azena could feel it through her high body temperature and the subtle tremors that dominated her body.

"Happy spring, idiot!" bellowed the boy who charged towards the festivities. "This isn't over!"

"What's wrong?" worried the brunette. "It's not your style to... to..."

"I do not know," replied Azena, as shocked by her actions as her friend. "It is difficult to explain. You see, I feel as if a major part of my person is not present."

"Do you feel capable of sharing more details?" Fayne asked tenderly.

"Since as far as I can remember, I've felt there's a hole in me. Most of the time, it's in the background and it affects me very little, but..."

She hesitated, frustrated with her difficulty at expressing herself, and then continued:

"Sometimes it overwhelms me and it saddens me... and the dark thoughts come back... All this witch bullying provokes it... I feel so stuck."

The peasant's eyes suddenly lit up and she continued to listen carefully.

"Something is wrong with me," the Kindirah continued desperately. "I feel helpless when it comes... Most of the time, it happens with conflict, but rarely, it can be without reason."

When she thought about it, she felt her heart twist and she could not help but squeeze it with her little hand. A tear rolled out of her left eye's orbit and she sniffed softly.

"It's when it happens without explanation that it hurts the most, right?" Fayne guessed.

Azena nodded and after a moment she finally found the right words to reply:

"In this situation, it is bitterness whereas when it is provoked, it manifests as a wave of anger. But basically, it's a feeling that I belong to someone or something, just not here. To be here... is like a long stay in prison."

"At least you have a nice cellmate," she laughed, talking about herself.

Fayne... She was so nice. Of all the people she met, she was without doubt her favorite. She managed to let go of her heart and to relax a little.

"I'd like to share something with you," said Fayne, taking her hand. "Come! Let's leave this place. Anyway, what I'm going to show you is much better than any festival."

She took the Kindirah's hand and dragged her away from the city. She followed a well-maintained dirt road, no doubt often borrowed. During the trip, Azena almost stumbled a few times because of her blue dress that prevented her from running properly. And damn she hated it!

"Are we almost there?" she asked with a frustrated grunt.

"Climb this hill with me and we'll finally be able to see it!" Fayne exclaimed cheerfully.

"To see what? Come on, tell me what the surprise is! What could be better than the festivities? There is food delicious enough to make a king drool, exotic dances, music that burns your soul with strong emotions, mysterious travelers that you would not see in other circumstances, some –"

She was so preoccupied with her enumeration of the aspects of a festival that she loved that she did not notice that she and her friend were now at the top of the hill. It was when she heard the majestic cry of an eagle that she fell silent and turned her attention to the sky. Straight ahead, a huge mountain stood proudly and seemed to be about to engulf everything around itself. The soft golden glow of a first sun caressed its angular forms. It was isolated behind the rock behemoth and was trying to escape. For that, it would have to rise a long way. Yet it dominated the forest surrounding this natural monster. Even a mature forest did not reach its ankle.

"It's not possible," Azena said, blinking with her bulging eyes. "This mountain... Is it normal? It seems supernatural to me."

"Father tells me never to go there," said Fayne, who was staring at the scene with wonder. "He does not know what is there, but that you should never be tempted by its beauty. He believes that it's a spell. Apparently, it's the border of a kingdom of..."

She hesitated a long time, biting her lower lip.

"Of witches..."

She knew that this word was taboo when it came to Azena, but the latter let it go for this time. She knew Fayne was not targeting her.

"Possible..."

She wondered if she had not imagined that eagle cry. She had never seen one, but she had admired drawings of this bird of prey in multiple encyclopedias.

"Are there eagles in the area?"

"I've heard strange cries a few times, but I've never seen anything," Fayne admitted with a smile.

Azena felt a painful throbbing in her cheek, where Bentrh had hit her. She winced, but quickly regained her serious expression, hoping Fayne had not noticed. The peasant approached her hand and rubbed the wound of her friend.

"There was dirt," she explained.

"Thank you," Azena murmured, sensing the pain being dominated by a feeling of embarrassment.

Another eagle screech resonated, this one more powerful. The Kindirah ignored it, too preoccupied with the look of her cheek that was surely horrifying to this point.

"Look!" Fayne exclaimed, pointing to the mountain.

Tiny in the sky, dancing around the titanic mountain, were two winged creatures.

"What are those...?" Azena wondered.

One of them uttered another call, which was similar to a bird of prey's. They were not eagles, but they bore similarities to their heads, their wings and their forequarters. The back of their body and tail was of feline origin. It looked like the fusion of two animals. How was that possible? Azena had difficulty believing it. She focused on the golden feathers and then the movement of their flapping wings. This living painting evoked a deep sense of loneliness in her. The latter was so familiar and yet so incomprehensible. It was when the larger creature of the two finally managed to soothe the second and as they became a pair, the younger girl felt her heart crack.

The two friends watched the two creatures court each other for a long time. They were performing incredible acrobatics in the open air. It was an event that no one at home would believe except perhaps Argent. After all, their great-uncle often told her about his adventures and claimed that he often came face to face with strange creatures. He was considered crazy, of course, but maybe he was not so much.

✦×✦

That night, Azena decided to spend time alone at her new favorite spot: the roof of the humble house of an old lady who had struck her with a broom on the behind the first time that she had seen her climb on her house. Every visit, they would make war. One day she planned to take Fayne there, but not this time. All she hoped for was calm to meditate on her feelings. She could not do it in the presence of others or at home because it reminded her of too many bad memories.

She climbed onto the barrel that rested on the side of the little house, grabbed the gutter, and finally she pulled herself up to the roof. Everything had to be done in a maximum of silence to not attract Gannia's wrath. That old bag had a fine hearing for her advanced age. Before settling down, the girl did not move, she hardly breathed.

Everything seemed to be going well and she was impatient. She began to climb the roof, the tiles of which were missing in some places. She carefully avoided these dangerous spots by going through the trouble of controlling the heaviness of her steps. Fortunately, she was young and hence, very light. She sat astride the top of the roof and waited a little.

Still nothing. Maybe Gannia was sleeping. Maybe she was away. Whatever it was, it was for the best according to Azena.

As if it was a ritual, each time, she looked up to the sky that sparkled with stars. She particularly loved the moon, which changed color every season. Currently, it was silver. Azena had noticed that the winds were particularly ferocious at this time of the year. It was also the symbol of freedom and the lack of her own freedom made her feel sick. There was also something deeper that was always present, but that was particularly evident in that time. She had the impression that a being that she didn't know was not present, but should have been. The absence of a perfect stranger affected her more than anything else. She did not have the hint of an idea for whom she was looking for, but that emptiness never left her.

Melancholy taking over, she was suddenly seized with an unusual desire: to express herself by singing. She knew perfectly well that she had no talent in that area and could very well draw attention to her, but she did not care. She closed her eyes and like for a prayer, she focused on the moon, resplendent that evening, which was the only witness she was concerned about.

Look at me now.

I am a free soul.

Look at me well.

Dawn is silvery.

I'm going to take the breath out of the sky, even after the suns lie down in a flicker of gold.

It struck me the day I met you.

I am a free spirit.

Look at me now.

I am a blue-eyed wolf howling at the stars.

My vile reputation will not defeat me in any way.

I am constantly searching for this missing piece of my soul.

So that I can become completely liberated.

Free to rush through the wonders of nature.

It strikes me in the morning.

Watch me closely.

I found my destiny, my moon.

I am a blue-eyed wolf.

I will sing my love to the moon, this ever-evolving artistic masterpiece.

It's for sure!

I am a free spirit, a rebellious creature to be!

And I will run to the end of the lands with you.

Even beyond this mountain of titans.

You never paid attention to the warnings.

Look at us now.

Watch us go!