Part V

Part 5

In the Great Hall of the Magician with a Hundred Names, a thousand and one exotic things, strange vials and multiple scrolls frame the man of legend. On his shoulder, his tiny companion sat.

Yuna, the fairy rebel, rests her back on her friend's elbow. The two watchmen of the multiverse can relax for a little. As the enchanted mirror reflected their image, Ditratos turned his gaze to the beautiful fairy, “sometimes I wonder what keeps you together with me: an old mystic and a divinely beautiful princess!”

“Listen, dear friend!” retorted Yuna. As little Yuna glides gracefully over the forearm of the sage. “I am not called a rebel for nothing after all. Your fantastic voyages bring me the challenges I need to forget the political intrigues of the court of the fairies. Moreover, I am beginning to love these twists that we often expect from the other side of the mirror.”

The long hand of slender fingers slide beneath the bare feet of Yuna. The two friends having fun dancing to their feet and their fingers into a mini choreography.

“Yes, indeed, this mirror will bring a lot of surprises. But I sense more intense moments. We must be vigilant, you and I. We will make a leap toward the Roche-aux-fées. I think the Stones have things to reveal to us. But I have an unpleasant feeling of being watched. What do you think, little wonder!” the mage asks his little companion.

In a moment, Yuna spreads her diaphanous wings, rising slowly. She hoveres a hand away from the nose of her friend. His gray mustache quivers under the flapping wings of rainbow. Two delicate hands land on the tip of his nose. As gently as drops of dew, a thin kiss is gently deposited. With wet eyes and a smile, the mage whispers, “that is the biggest yes a man never heard, I am privileged to have you as a friend!”

With all modesty and quiet, the doll turns into a winged jet of light. She seeps into the pendant hanging from the neck of the master of mysteries. Ditratos closes his eyes, hand on the small wooden cage. Stock cage between his fingers, he opened his eyes to the magical light at the end of the chain. With his deep voice, a thought slipped from his lips, “your presence is valuable to our immortality.”

The sacred words are thrown in the reflection of the mirror. A magic union takes place: an alteration in frequency, even our friends have to activate their impulses that are aligned to the magic mirror. The surface of the latter undulates with the rhythm of secret incantations and the transition becomes possible. In the space of a single step, the magician stands in front of the monument, as old as humanity has known: La Roche-aux-fées.

The rising sun touches the surface of “rocks singing legends” with its honey colored beams. Yuna rests as she sits on the back of the hand of the mage and both make contact with the Stone.

The telepathic link is instantaneous as the two faces are veiled dumb with concern. Singing Stones reveal content of the most formidable; incarnation of destruction breathe again in a living body who walks on the face of Gaia. The ebony skin entity vampirizes the vital essence of every creature clinging to her canvas. Right here, under the feet of the magician, this abomination weaves her revenge through treacherous seduction, deception, and deadly, unimaginable plots. To survive her touch is to serve her dark designs. The Black Widow is his nickname and his real name is spoken only by those who defy.

Yuna and Ditratos look to each other in silence. They whisper simultaneously, “Arachnéida! The Queen of the dark elves!” Like a wind that turns the two friends react quickly. They know that the enemy of humanity and all life on Gaia has begun to hunt his game, and that game, it is them. “Yuna-My dear, we'll have fun now!” the magician says to his small, but feisty companion. “We will hunt the hunter, right?” replied the rebel fairy. “Yes!” retorted the mage, with all possible enthusiasm.

In a few moments, the magician recites a spell, arms toward the floor, palms down. Immediately, the floor is colored with a green glow and traces appear. Ditratos notices that “there are three moons, Arachnéida was here!” With a deep voice, eyebrows lowered, eyes of the sage raises the along side the Roche-aux-fées. A handprint tattooed green on the surface of the singing stone. Yuna indignant, “accursed witch, she has desecrated our sacred stone and that damnation knows about us now. We must act fast!” But the little fairy knows that after seeing the three moons, speed of action is of grave importance. She flies over the rock formation very quickly and returns hurriedly stopping in the air near the ear of her friend.

Yuna vows that “The Black Widow will not desecrate our stones again. I have left a note of welcome for her that will burn her curiosity forever” Squatting in the footsteps of his enemy with a soil sample in a test tube, Ditratos of the multiverse looks at his magic winged carrier and declares, “I am glad to have you by my side. A fairy rebel, it burnt fingers.” The man stands erect, looking as the mirror reappears. In a low voice, he whispers to his friend with the pointed ears, “what would you say a study tour of the Dark Elves?” With a small smile and a nod, the little magic creature disappears into light in its wooden cage, as the Ranger rushes to the other side of the mirror.