Silence fell once again upon the clearing, heavy, thick, almost oppressive. The name "Brest" sparked no memory. Even Leopold, usually the scholar, exchanged a bewildered look with Yabal. Angel simply shrugged.
This old man, with his parchment-like skin and the allure of a specter escaped from a history book, was a total stranger to them.
"Brest?" Yabal repeated, suspicious.
The old man let out a dry chuckle, sounding like the snapping of a dead branch. He took a step forward, his cane clicking against a flat stone.
"As I told you, I am Brest, and I have lived here since your ancestors still wore short pants. I am an Oracle, an old man who fled his own kind... I keep the memories that the world rushes to forget."
His milky gaze locked onto Leopold's, and his smile vanished, swallowed by a sudden gravity.
"I know why you disturb the quietude of my woods. You seek the Flame. You seek to contradict the inevitable... for a mother whose hourglass is nearly empty."
Leopold stiffened. The pain of this truth had become familiar to him, but hearing it spoken aloud remained a trial.
"Yes... we want to save my mother. She only has six months left."
"Six months," Brest repeated. "Half a year to change a destiny..."
He pivoted, his worn frock coat swirling around his thin legs.
"Destiny is sometimes unfair... A heart that accepts reality does not sink into hatred. Hatred gives you strength, certainly... but it deprives you of all discernment. It reduces you to the rank of an animal acting on instinct... and you end up devoured by something stronger or more cunning."
The heroes exchanged perplexed glances; none of them really understood where he was going with this. Brest sighed, beckoned to them, and began walking slowly toward the opening in the rock.
"If you are here, it is because of Tiger, isn't it? Then don't stand there like fence posts. Come in. The story I am about to tell you should not be stolen by the wind."
The interior was a raw sanctuary, sculpted by time: roots intertwined with columns, millennia-old stones, and the flickering light of a smokeless fire.
Brest settled them onto polished logs and stuffed a long wooden pipe.
"You three : Yabal, Angel, and Rhea... you are the Children of the END."
Rhea frowned.
"You said that outside... but what does it mean?"
"Then listen."
With a wave of his hand, grains of dust rose, gathering in the air to form shifting silhouettes, a theater of magical shadows.
"In the beginning, Saturn was nothing but a gas giant. No ground. No life. A hellscape of storms. And yet... three children, or rather, three adolescents appeared there."
The shapes glowed more intensely.
"They possessed a deep understanding of the six fundamental energies of the END: Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Aether... and the Ancient Power. Alas, they did not master them. In our era, no one fully understands these forces. Not even the gods."
The group held their breath, captivated by the dance of lights.
"The three then made a pact with the God of Time, master of Saturn. In exchange for their oath, he dissipated the gaseous darkness and created a surface, the Saturnians... and even the Europeans. It was the dream of these children, born to explore, discover, and understand. It is said that the god created all of this using Aether, an innate power that even he did not comprehend."
"But nature is what it is. The Saturnians developed emotions: positive and negative. And it was to this second category that hatred belonged."
Brest's shadow stretched against the walls, oversized and menacing.
"This hatred awakened an ancient being from the depths of the END. He arrived first as a being of light, pure and unsullied. His breath blessed the air... But seeing the Saturnians tearing each other apart, his heart, as pure as the dawn, was contaminated by darkness. He transformed into a greedy creature that fed on emotions... and then on flesh."
Rhea swallowed hard.
"In the chaos, the three children bonded with the Sacred Animals and received the Blessing of the God of Time. They fought the ancient being, who also wielded the Ancient Power. It took centuries... but they finally defeated him."
Brest turned to them, his face suddenly very serious.
"It is said that when this being attempts to return, three new children will appear, linked to the Fox, to save Saturn. And I have heard the Horn sound across the entire planet. I know the Fox is with you."
A light suddenly materialized next to Angel. Angeles appeared, his spectral form floating gently.
"Greetings, old Oracle."
Brest bowed his head respectfully.
"Tiger..." the sage murmured, returning to the present. "You fear him, and rightly so. He is no stranger to this soil: he has defiled it once before. And he has a plan. I have heard the whispers of the earth... He plans to transfer all Earthlings to Saturn. A massive migration."
Angel's jaw dropped.
"But why?!"
"No one knows yet."
Brest straightened up with difficulty, leaning heavily on his cane.
"You are weak. Ignorant. And time is working against us. I have therefore decided to be... your master."
The heroes exchanged stupefied looks. Rhea spoke up, anxious:
"We... we are weak, yes. But our priority is to save Leopold's mother. We don't have time for a long apprenticeship."
Brest sighed deeply.
"Destiny has made its choice. And sometimes... the current situation is only the consequence of our past acts. I do not guarantee she will survive. But I know this: the day your feet touch Saturn, your adventures will end if you are not ready."
They were all struck dumb by the fatality in his voice.
"Four months of training. After that, you will do as you please. The Sacred Flame is in the cave... but to reach it, you will need a specific energy. That is part of the training."
They consulted each other with long looks. Angel was the first to break the silence:
"We have no choice... And it will be useful for what comes next."
Rhea nodded in agreement, but a question gnawed at her.
"I wonder how Tiger is going to manage to migrate all the humans to Saturn."
Angel's face suddenly decomposed, struck by a horrible realization.
"Tiger is linked to the men in white hoods, isn't he? If he wants to move the Earthlings... what if he uses the same process that moved those men into the END? Do you remember the story you told us before we arrived here?"
The reaction was immediate.
Yabal went pale, his breath cutting off sharply. He fell back onto his rear, covering his mouth to keep from vomiting.
"That technique..." he stammered. "It demands a human sacrifice. Imagine... moving eight billion beings..."
A terrified silence fell over the group. Angel felt a pressure crushing his chest; his family lived on Earth. Rhea clenched her fists, terrified.
Leopold, who understood nothing of the magical mechanics, observed the scene, lost but aware of the gravity of the moment.
Angel straightened up, his face void of emotion, but his eyes burning with determination.
"We accept the training."
The others nodded.
"Splendid!" Brest exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Then... to work!"
The training began immediately. Brest was old only in appearance: his mind was as sharp as a new blade. He presented the program for the coming four months, a grueling path divided into four crucial stages.
"First, The Initiation of the Elements," he explained. "The goal is to balance your internal energies. Earth, Water, Fire, Air... you will have to meditate, breathe, and suffer to master them."
"Next will come The Awakening of the Senses. You will learn to see the invisible, to hear every frequency, to recognize energy signatures by scent, and to fight by touch."
"The third phase will be The Mastery of Aura. Visualization, accumulation, channeling. You will no longer fight with your muscles, but with your vital energy."
"And finally, The Power of Instinct. Acting without conscious thought. Total serenity in the heart of chaos."
...
A few days later, while Yabal and Angel struggled to follow the physical exercises imposed by the old man, Rhea wandered off to gather wood. Her mind still drifted toward the memory of her missing mother, a wound that had never closed.
Suddenly, her foot hit something.
She leaned down: a smooth stone, warm, pulsing almost like a living heart.
When her fingers touched it...
The world disappeared.
No more temple.
No more forest.
No more Brest.
Only a golden, infinite, blinding light.
Before her, a bird of fire spread gigantic wings, setting the horizon ablaze.
A Phoenix majestic, incandescent, eternal.
Its voice was not a sound, but a direct presence in her soul:
"Daughter of light... do you accept to bind yourself to me?"
The vision lasted an eternal second.
Then Rhea fell to her knees in the moss, the stone clutched against her, tears streaming down her cheeks. Brest was standing nearby, a mysterious smile on his lips.
"By the beard of Time... You saw him. The Phoenix only shows himself to those whose hearts have burned... and who have known how to rise from their ashes."
Rhea stood up.
Her gaze had changed. A new light, fierce and warm, danced within it.
She had just bonded with the Fire Phoenix, named Garma.