Chapter 68: End of Season 1: Silence After the Tale

The Blue Tower no longer trembles it no longer rumbles, shivers, or vibrates under the weight of warring narratives. It breathes, softly, like a great body at peace, like a world recovered from its fevers its walls now tell not of battles, shouts, or erasures, but of lullabies, sweet memories sewn into the corners of long sentences like scarves of peace dolls hum in the corridors, stairs descend in a waltz, windows glow with a very tender blue, the blue of things that know one will sleep well. In her room, Saphira sits, legs crossed, a book wide open on her lap, her favorite plush toy nestled against her her hair falls without magic, without a supernatural breeze, simply, like that of a little girl tired from having loved the world too much she turns a page, then pauses her eyes drift towards Élya, who sits a few feet away, legs dangling in the void, gazing at the stars "Do you think all the other worlds are okay?" Saphira asks, in an almost timid whisper. Élya doesn't answer right away she looks far away, then nods. "You saved them," she smiles. "And you've grown." Saphira lowers her eyes to her book her fingers brush the words as if they were fragile the door opens without a creak it doesn't even open, it yields gently, as if the wood itself knew who was passing through The Primordial Mother enters she says nothing she walks slowly, serenely, to Saphira, and stops a simple kiss on the forehead, a wordless gaze, but heavier with meaning than any speech then she gently moves away she doesn't disappear she fades with the modesty of divinities who know when to step out of the story and Saphira, without getting up, without daring to follow, murmurs very softly "Thank you, mama." on the desk, a notebook closes, not with a bang, nor a theatrical flourish it closes like a song ends, calmly, with certainty on its cover, in letters of soft light, one can read: Saphira Noctielle – Queen of the BlueTower there is a period, but it doesn't shout "the end." rather, it whispers "to be continued." it vibrates in the air like a thread suspended between two worlds, a thread that isn't taut, not rushed just there and Saphira falls asleep, the book tucked under her arm, her plush toy still clutched close, the whole world enclosed in her breath the tower hums for her a song without words, without end, without refrain, just a blue wave, a rocking of reality and in her dream, she flies, not as a queen, not as a goddess, but as a child above the worlds, hand in hand with children not yet written, riding lightning bolts, stars, ideas, touching forgotten colors, laughing in the margin of the dream she's only 1.30 meters tall but her heart contains all infinity.

End of Season 1