chapter 4: the forest of gentle shadows

She is queen
but also listening
she is silence
but also refuge
and in the forest of gentle shadows...
she is simply at home.

The morning had risen without drums or glory
one of those pale, blue, almost discreet mornings
as if the day itself were apologizing for disturbing the sleep of the towers.

At the top of the Azure Tower, Saphira Noctielle was sitting on her throne
she hadn’t spoken yet.
she didn’t need to.
The silence of the room was vast enough to hold everything she might have said.
The light came in at an angle through a transparent window, draped with calm reflections
a fine steam rose from a cup of white tea, placed beside her
infused by Élya, with that silent care only beloved dolls know how to offer.

Around her, everything seemed on pause.

Diva was elsewhere, probably leaping through dimensions
in search of a new thrill or an interdimensional snack.

Destiny was reading, somewhere in the mobile library
immersed in a tome she was perhaps writing as she read it.

Kael was meditating in the hall of ancient breath
where stones speak without words.

And Saphira, she simply watched
not a world
not a page
the void
but a soothed void
alive
almost gentle.

That’s when the air changed.

Not an alarm
not a threat
just... a subtle variation in the weave of the moment.
A shiver that came not from fear
but from invitation
something... was calling.

She turned her head.

Beneath the tower
barely visible between two mists
floated a blurred silhouette
it had no eyes, no mouth
but it was full of whispers
it was made of ancient leaves
of wind that had fallen asleep
of words never spoken.

And in its silence, it said:

— “Come. there is a forest you have not yet dreamed.”

Saphira did not answer.

She simply stood up.

Without sudden movement
without a given order
she descended the blue steps.
Élya slid onto her shoulder
like a tiny cape animated with tenderness
her bare feet touched the floating floor
and the wind rose around her
It did not blow
It accompanied.

A door appeared
slowly
it was made neither of wood nor metal
but of blue bark woven from sleeping reality
she gently pushed the matter of the world
like a curtain too heavy to move in an abandoned house.

And beyond… was the forest of leafy dreams.

It was an ancient place
not old.
Ancient.
As if its roots had grown into a memory that predates time itself.

The trees were immense
some made of frozen light
others of condensed memory
their trunks seemed woven from forgotten stories
and their leaves, hanging at the edge of silence
whispered in a language only deep sleep could understand.

The ground barely sang
not with notes
with breaths.

And at the heart of this forest
in the center of a glade bathed in gentle shadow
stood a throne
broken
mossy
silent.

Like a reflection of the one she had left
but worn by listening
not by ruling.

Saphira approached
she didn’t need to ask any questions.

— “It’s an old throne,” whispered Élya, her cotton voice gliding into the mist.
“Maybe… another you.”

A silhouette then emerged from the foliage
it was neither ghost nor fairy
rather an idea
stabilized by attention
slender
almost transparent
it seemed made of sighs
of gently expired dreams
and of light fallen from an ancient dusk.

She spoke without forcing her voice
as if the entire world had begun listening.

— “You’ve come.
This throne has been waiting for you a long time.
It is not for ruling.
It is for listening.”

Saphira sat
and the moss
warm and alive
accepted her without resistance.

Around her
forms slowly emerged from the forest
a rain fox
with drops gently falling from its silver fur
a light doe
its heart beating through translucent ribs
a smoke-snake
sliding in circles around the throne
like a phrase endlessly reread.

None of them spoke
none imposed
they simply came
and settled
as if they had been waiting
forever.

Saphira closed her eyes
and for an instant...
she was not Queen
not lightning
not guardian of the worlds
she was simply
presence
listening
an open heart.

The wind did not blow
it sang
the forest did not move
it breathed.

And Saphira, at the center
smiled.

She was home.

End of Chapter 4 — The Forest of Gentle Shadows.