The path opened up between the bamboo like a green wound in the hill.
Gabriel walked slowly behind Clara, who moved with a light, confident step, as if the forest had shaped her from within. The reeds closed behind them, and all that remained was the sound of water dripping from the broad leaves, mixed with the invisible song of the trees.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To where your training will begin," Clara replied without turning around. "A place that few know about. Not even Carlos has ever come with me."
After a few minutes, an unreal silence enveloped them. No rustling, no animals. Only the beating of their hearts echoing in their ears.
Suddenly, a blackened stone arch emerged from the vegetation. Clara walked through it and stopped in a circular clearing dominated by an ancient kapok, the sacred tree.
Gabriel shivered. The earth seemed to pulsate.
"I used to come here to meditate," Clara explained. "To learn silence. To let the earth speak. Before I left the convent, the sisters told me about Costa Rica because of this place."
They sat down. Clara placed a hand on the ground, and Gabriel imitated her. A howler monkey emerged from a branch, stared at him for a long time, then disappeared.
"Every time you use your power," Clara murmured, "the balance shifts. The world feels it. Animals are the first to notice: some flee, others follow you."
Gabriel closed his eyes.
The ground pulsed like distant drums. An image overwhelmed him: a young woman, dressed in red, was kneeling in the same circle, in tears, while a priest whispered formulas to her in a forgotten language. Thoughts swirled around him like a vortex.
He opened his eyes with a start. Clara was watching him.
"Did you see something?"
"Yes. A woman dressed in red. Here. She was crying."
Clara looked down. "She was one of the first. She too had received the mark. But she didn't resist. We keep the memory of all the brothers and sisters who tried.
Gabriel asked no more questions.
Suddenly, the sky changed colour. A reddish light filtered through the trees, followed by a pungent smell. More smoke.
Clara jumped up. "There's a fire. This time it's too close."
Gabriel felt himself being pushed to his feet by a force that was not within him, but all around him.
"It's a test," said Clara. "Not to save. To listen."
A rustling sound, like torn tunics, made him turn around. A majestic figure emerged from the mist. He walked leaning on a staff engraved with unknown symbols. His long, silvery hair shone like the full moon; his eyes, black as coal, scrutinised him sternly. His faded cloak was stained with mud. His age was indecipherable.
Clara whispered, 'No... it can't be.
The man stopped in front of Gabriel and stared at him silently.
"Who are you?" asked the boy, his voice firmer than expected.
"I am one who remained," he replied. "One who has seen wars and chosen to forget."
Clara took a step forward. "You're Rafael... you were with Raimondo and the other fighters. They told me about the battle. We thought you were dead."
"I cannot die," replied the man. "But what we faced fifty years ago left wounds that do not heal easily."
He turned his gaze to Gabriel.
"You bear the mark. But you're not ready. Not yet."
A cold shiver ran down the boy's spine. "Why did you come?"
"Because time is running out. And what sleeps beneath this earth has begun to awaken. I can teach you not to fall. Not to destroy yourself in an attempt to save the world."
Clara stared at him hesitantly. "So you'll stay with us?"
Rafael shook his head. "No. My place is among the shadows. But I will return every time he dreams of struggle and blood.
Then he turned to Gabriel: "When the fire speaks to you, don't run away. Listen to it."
And he disappeared into the trees, leaving no trace.
Gabriel stood motionless. Clara placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Rafael was the most powerful of the chosen ones. But he paid the highest price: confinement between this world and the other. A suspended messenger, for those who need him.
Gabriel looked at the smoke on the horizon. "It's time to find out what I can do.
"Don't you want us to run away? We could ask for help." " ~ " asked Clara.
The boy shook his head. "No. I want to try."
The sky had turned dark and reddish. The smoke spread like an evil veil. Down in the valley, the trees creaked. Clara gripped her walking stick, but remained still. Gabriel advanced towards the edge of the clearing, where the earth was warming under his feet.
Rafael's words echoed inside him: When the fire speaks to you, don't run away. Listen to it.
He closed his eyes. He breathed in slowly, as Clara had taught him.
He did not think about stopping the fire. Nor about controlling it.
He listened.
Within the roar of the flames, he distinguished voices. Whispers. The fire was not just destruction: it was memory. The burning wood sang the story of the trees, and the air carried a buried pain.
A pulsation, an echo, intertwined with the beating of his heart. The breath of the forest. The breath of the fire.
Gabriel raised his hand. Not to command, but to connect.
A circle of air formed around him. The flames trembled. The birds fled. A little monkey took refuge a few steps away from Clara, trembling.
It happened.
The flames began to bend: not extinguished, but slowed, as if breathing more slowly. The smoke rose in less ferocious columns, and the line of fire stopped advancing.
A semicircle of untouched earth opened up around Gabriel. The jungle, alive.
Clara fell to her knees. She looked at him as if she were witnessing a sunrise. The little monkey disappeared into the foliage.
When silence returned, Gabriel collapsed to the ground, exhausted but alive.
Clara approached him and whispered: 'You managed to listen to it.
"The fire... it's afraid too," Gabriel murmured with his eyes closed.
He sat down on the still-warm ground, his fingers digging into the earth. He was breathing heavily, as if he had absorbed an ancient weight.
"Fire is afraid... of those who forget. Of those who bend it to erase. It is not born to destroy. But when man forces it, it goes mad. It screams. It defends itself." He paused. "It is afraid of treachery. Of loss. Like me."
A slight noise broke the silence. Not a rustle: footsteps.
Two capybaras appeared from the edge of the jungle, advancing placidly. Then a wild boar with a scorched back, sniffing the air in search of con r confirmation. A majestic black jaguar emerged from the bamboo, shoulders low and breathing deeply. Finally, from the riverbank, a crocodile slowly climbed out with disarming slowness. It remained distant, posing no threat. Just a presence.
Gabriel did not move. No one fled. No one attacked.
The animals arranged themselves in an irregular circle around him. They watched. They recognised him.
Clara trembled. "I've never... never seen anything like this before."
Gabriel remained silent. Inside him, a new certainty took shape.
It wasn't just the powers or the marks on his skin.
It was a knot. A bridge. A threshold.
And the whole jungle had begun to recognise him.