Legends of Kepler: Age of Erin

CHAPTER IV: CURTAINS OF CHAOS - SIDE B: DEPTHS OF MINAAR (6)

CHAPTER IV: CURTAINS OF CHAOS - SIDE B: DEPTHS OF MINAAR (6)    

Wiz's boiler burst in thousands of fragments. The pieces flew out when the girl put her hand away. The Golden King lay on the ground, still. The tremor had stopped, but he couldn't find words to describe what he had seen. Determined, he furiously got up with the intention of facing Argônæth. He was going to force him to stop seeing the girl. He had the fearsome augury that this was a great threat.

However, something harmonious managed to took over his heart. In his wisdom, he understood that he actually was just scared, fearful. He felt a real terror, for the energies and images were uncontrollable even for him, but in his misunderstanding, he knew it was something new, an intense rearrangement, coming from a divine origin. He reconsidered the fact that if this was happening naturally, it was due to the authentic order of all living things. The presence of the unfathomed of the all among them.

Nothing could be done, and nothing should be done about it. More than accepting what it apparently was, it was about accepting what it would be. The worst thing the King could do was to interfere with this. He made the decision not to do anything, and allow things to follow their natural course. After all, he didn't felt this strange interaction was something negative. He could not prove this constituted an evil for the harmony of the planet, but he could not affirm it wasn´t either. He wasn´t certain if this was something entirely positive. For him, these events were a mystery, which he wanted to properly interpret. But he didn't have information; not enough to make a choice. He decided to keep what was seen hidden; for he saw the situation as a puzzle, and before making a final decision, he needed the missing pieces of it.

The springs passed, allowing the sovereignty of the roses to grow and reveal themselves. An effusive youth reigned in the terrestrial race, especially with the harmonic spreading of goods from the prodigious sorceress within the isolated town of Anaís.

In the region, rumors of the birth of a star embodied in a girl were already running. There was a great admiration for Amalia. It was amazing what she was becoming. Leadership, youth, the symbol she represented. She was full of fresh energy, descended from angelic origins. She spent her days perfecting her abilities, which were born from her feelings. Her powers were species of fires; dim flames of intense effulgence that flowed from her hands. These fires were of different colors, and each had unique properties. They were useful for many of the activities that were governed in the town, helping the families of the village.

The fires of yellow color served Amalia to heal deep wounds of the body. Those of green color were her favorites, for it was the power in which she was tuned in with greater harmony; with this essence she built and rearmed organic elements, manipulating nature. Occasionally, she managed to emanate a purple energy, but this was very difficult to manifest, and she still did not understand its nature. And finally, the blue and red fires, which were the most intense ones, and therefore, the least able to be dominated.

Her mother then dedicated herself, to teach her use these flames of life properly; through the channeling of her feelings, so that her daughter managed to correctly orient her emotions. Only then, she will able to lead this energy of the Light towards good purposes.

"Mother, it's time to try the blue one!" the sorceress exclaimed.

“Did you forget what happened the last time?” Adelia replied. “I won't let you cook a single fish with that. For the foolishness? For a girl's whim? I already told you that the uses of those powers are prohibited, understand that.”

“That happened three years ago mother!” said Amalia. “You promised me that when I turned fifteen Rimerians we could use them.”

“And what?”

“Mother, I turned fifteen a long time ago!” said the young woman. “The time has come as you promised!”

“Not so long ago” she responded. “Talk to your father. I will not participate on this.”

From the Gardens, Wiz had not taken his eyes off the sorceress since the incident he witnessed in the boiler. He did not forget the unmanageable energy that formed that night. He considered her a different being, and his instincts told him to watch her steps. He knew she was going to reveal many mysteries. And Argônæth, as usual, kept spying on her and watching her from time to time. His sight was delighted by her, and he lost himself in the beauty of her shiny and beautiful face.

One day, a crystal box appeared in the Temple of Knowledge. Dragons claimed that they had supposedly seen from the lights, a glow that gently descended from the heavens and quickly  that consolidated in matter; spreading its light until the rectangular glass box was formed. Inside the glass cube, there was a book and a scroll. It was prostrated on one of the three sculpted pedestals, used for masterly readings.

On that day, the Golden King was returning from an expedition from the lands beyond the mountains. He arrived at the Hanging Gardens, and only found tremendous stir and uproar. The dragons were outside the temple, waiting. Trying to understand what was happening. The consensus seemed to have been not to approach it, and much less touch the glass. They chose to wait for the Golden King, and for him to decide what to do.

Wėzhreem then, arrived at the place and decided to ask everyone what they saw, but they gave exorbitant explanations. He decided to enter the temple and approach the glass box. Inside the temple, there were some dragons, very few of them. Among them, Bongo and his two children, Dracko and Argônæth. There were three of his seven Supreme Dragons. Seeing that the place was quite safe, Wiz approached with Bongo towards the structure where the box was. The glass reflected all colors outwards, and inwards. Inside of it, a book rested. Thick, brown, with gleaming golden engravings in the corners. In the center, a writing was engraved; It was the designation of the instrument.