Everyone stood up. Rivhiamë took the form of a little demon, fluttering to perch on Sakolomé's head. Jin Muleo and Lingyin, now more relaxed, took the lead toward a sacred place nestled in the nearby mountains: the sanctuary of Zelongue.
The path was short, punctuated by the rustling of leaves and the light crackling of their footsteps on the earth. A strange aura seemed already to thicken as they approached. Finally, they stopped before a vast clearing bordered by twisted-trunked trees.
Lingyin scanned the area warily:
— Is he here?
— Where else would he go? replied Jin Muleo, shrugging.
Suddenly, a deep, sharp voice cut through the silence:
— What are you doing here… again?
All eyes lifted. A figure crouched on a high branch, a half-human, half-other being. Bare-chested, his muscles were streaked with glowing yellow marks, like embers. Long red hair cascaded down, framing a face marked by ancient symbols. His yellow eyes shone with an almost feline glare.
— Zelongue? murmured Jin Muleo with a slight smile. We do not come to disturb your peace. We simply wished to introduce you to some new people.
The red dragon did not descend. He studied them all deliberately, as if weighing every breath.
— Speak. I can hear you very well from here, he said in a weary but sharp voice.
Lingyin crossed his arms, visibly unimpressed:
— Isn't that a bit rude? You could at least come down to greet us properly.
Zelongue narrowed his eyes, his features hardening.
— Politeness is the invention of the weak. I am Zelongue, red dragon, guardian of eternal war and sacred fire. I owe no debts to human courtesies.
Kai grimaced, raising a sarcastic eyebrow:
— You strut a bit too much compared to your sister Ysolongue.
— It's true, added Sakolomé calmly. You seem torn by excess pride. Or perhaps… is it simply distrust towards us?
Zelongue did not answer immediately. His gaze, previously distant, suddenly fixed on Salomé. He examined her at length, a mysterious smile slowly appearing on his lips.
— That little one with violet hair… she pleases me. There is draconic blood in her. Blood that vibrates. I feel it.
Caught off guard, Salomé blushed despite herself.
Sakolomé cast a troubled glance at his sister.
Why does her draconic blood manifest so clearly? he thought. Ysolongue did not sense it… so why does Zelongue feel it instantly?
A silent question rose in his mind, heavy: What is truly happening within Salomé? Something awakens inside her… something deeply ancient.
Zelongue jumped from his branch, landing with lightning grace before the group. Without a word, he approached Salomé, staring at her with unsettling intensity.
— You… he murmured. You are a daughter of the Dragon Men clan, aren't you?
He breathed softly, closing his eyes briefly, then slowly turned his head toward Sakolomé and Bakuran.
— I sense the same essence in you two. But in her… it is far more intense. It is as if an ancient ember awaits to become flame again.
Kai, annoyed, snapped in a sharp tone:
— Your clan and blood stories are all very pretty, but we're seriously starting to waste our time here!
Everyone turned to him, surprised.
— We have a quest to pursue, Kai continued. And given Zelongue's attitude—who lacks even the decency to care about those close to his sister Ysolongue—it's clear he will be of no help. We'd better leave.
Zelongue did not flinch, but his voice rumbled, icy:
— My sister, like all the others, lives her life where she pleases. What she does is none of my business.
Salomé stepped forward, indignant:
— You're wrong, Zelongue. Ysolongue does not live in indifference. She still hopes to see you all again one day. She has not sunk into selfishness… unlike you.
The red dragon's gaze hardened. He squinted, a contemptuous smirk on his lips.
— Tssk… You're lucky to be in my good graces, insolent little one. Otherwise, I would have ripped your head off already. Do you even know who you're talking to?
Kai rolled his eyes, tired:
— That's all there is to say. Can we go now?
But Zelongue, intrigued despite himself, asked:
— Your quest? What quest exactly?
Sakolomé stepped forward, his tone turning grave.
— Your father… the Dragon God, Orlongue. Is it him?
Zelongue nodded warily:
— That's what they say. But no one has ever seen him. Not even us, his children. So, who knows?
Sakolomé crossed his arms:
— Yet, it was he who planned the separation of the Heirs. He left a message in the Lake of Secrets. He said that when the division arrives… one must go to the Cave of Évoressence… to seek an egg.
He fixed Zelongue with his gaze.
— The Egg of the Eleventh Heir.
A heavy silence fell. Zelongue slowly opened wide eyes.
— The Eleventh Heir?
— Yes, confirmed Sakolomé. And strangely, the truths of the Lake left by the Dragon God are inaccessible to you, the Heirs. You can locate the lake, hear its whispers… but never the God's own truths. As if he already knew you would become too self-centered.
Zelongue's gaze clouded. A heavy, meaningful silence stretched. Finally, he breathed out:
— If that's true… then so be it.
He raised his head toward Sakolomé, his eyes flashing bolts.
— But what do you want me to believe? That this Dragon God, whose existence is even uncertain, foresaw all this? And that, by chance, you strangers access truths forbidden to us, his children? It's grotesque!
Sakolomé replied calmly:
— You don't have to believe it. We will pursue this quest with or without your approval. We will go to the Cave of Évoressence.
He turned toward Lingyin and Jin Muleo, offering a frank smile.
— I hope to see you again after all this. My uncles.
Lingyin nodded with a half-smile:
— It would be a pleasure. We still have much to discuss.
But suddenly, Zelongue abruptly placed his hand on Sakolomé's shoulder, stopping him cold. His gaze blazed.
— Wait.
A leaden silence fell. Then his voice snapped, sharp as a blade:
— You can chase this nonexistent egg if you will. But…
He pointed slowly at Salomé with an almost possessive gesture.
— The little one with violet hair… she stays with me.
Salomé's eyes widened in surprise, as did the others'.
Salomé: What? No, wait—!
Before she could step back, Zelongue slowly reached out toward her. A strange, almost imperceptible wave traversed the air. In a flash, Salomé's legs buckled.
Salomé: …Huh?
She collapsed silently, unconscious, her body falling limply to the ground.
Sakolomé: Salomé!
Lingyin: Zelongue! Have you gone mad?!
Jin Muleo: You want us to take you on? Let her go immediately!
Sakolomé rushed toward his sister, but barely did he stretch out his arm than he collided with an invisible barrier. A powerful shockwave violently threw him back.
Sakolomé: Argh! What is this…?
He rolled on the ground for several meters before stopping, groggy.
Rivhiamë: (floating slightly above the ground) It's a very high-level shield. At your level, you can do nothing against it.
Sakolomé: (rising painfully) A… shield?
Zelongue descended slowly, his bare feet touching the earth silently. His piercing golden gaze remained fixed on Sakolomé.
Zelongue: Leave. Resume your quest or whatever you want… but she stays with me.
Bakuran: And what do you intend to do with her?
Zelongue smiled enigmatically, almost predatory.
Zelongue: This girl… she carries within her the echo of dragons. Ancient fire, tears of scales, sealed blood. She will be my subject. My bridge between the old world and men.
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Sakolomé: You are wrong if you think we will let you do that.
Zelongue: You have no choice. The blood has spoken. And now… she belongs to me.
Zelongue fixed Lingyin and Jin Muleo with a long gaze.
Zelongue: Unlike you two… this girl has yet to carve any path. She is a blank page, virgin clay. And I will not let this chance pass.
Bakuran, furious, clenched his fists.
Bakuran: Who do you think you are?! Do you really believe my sister is a mere object to be shaped at whim?!
Zelongue narrowed his eyes, an icy expression on his face.
Zelongue: She will become my human subject. Within her reside all the lineages of the Dragon Men. You mortals can offer her nothing comparable.
At these words, Sakolomé took a step forward, ready to rush, muscles tense with anger. But a firm hand rested on his shoulder: Lingyin's.
Lingyin: Don't do it, Sakolomé. If you fight him now, you will lose. He is too strong.
Sakolomé turned, eyes wide.
Sakolomé: You want me to let him do it?! He took Salomé! He wants to claim my little sister as a trophy! I can't just stand here and do nothing!
Lingyin, though tense himself, spoke in a firm tone.
Lingyin: No one intends to let him have her. But throwing yourself into the lion's mouth will save no one. Listen to me: with a man like him, the safest would be to challenge him by ancient rules. A ritual duel. The loser must submit to the will of the victor.
Sakolomé stood frozen.
Sakolomé: A duel… You really think that could work?
Lingyin nodded slowly.
Lingyin: It's our only chance to impose a condition he would be forced to accept. And above all… our only hope to get Salomé back alive.