“It’s so quiet!” Sephir whispered while she was sitting on the shore of the Fireflies Waterfall, perched on the same rock on which Nathaniel and Samaya had previously sat.

“And it’s so weird! It seems to be a true lie!” and her black eyes blinked into the darkness, illuminated by the blinking of the fireflies, which were floating above the water, in the warm embrace of the night air.

Even though the end-of-April nights usually still kept the refreshing breath of winter in their clothes, it was quite pleasant here, and this gave the feeling of calmness and lethargy, on one hand, being surrounded by so much beauty, and on the other hand, it raised a lot of question marks, for it was unbelievable that the place around falling waters could produce so much heat.

Then was the water: which was flowing sometimes smoothly, sometimes quickly, falling in free waves of the not too high blue rock, seen to the East, and the only one whose color didn’t change under the influence of Arion’s light.

“It’s really weird!” Arion said, approaching her, but he preferred to stand, while she was sitting on the rock, a few centimeters from his legs, seeming so small and insignificant.

“Does it seem weird to you too, Arion?” the girl asked him, without looking at him, while her eyes, the color of the deep shadows, were mirroring in the water's depth, trying to see beyond appearances.

“Yes, especially this miraculous breath of life, which is just an illusion created by Tenebre to hide her den, because nothing seen here is real.”

“And still, Arion, we so many times prefer the illusion instead of reality,” and the girl sighed, remembering about her foolishness when she had trusted a dream and the scent of her mother’s hair, which she had smelled coming from the drawn image she saw in her sleep. “But I still hope to see her again, even if it's at least for one more time.”

„Whom?”

“My mother. Because of her, I went to Ian Gyar's lair, even though I knew I was in danger. I allowed myself to be bewitched by a beautiful illusion when I could have embraced the breath of death if you wouldn’t have come to rescue me.”

“I didn't do much, because Master Dike sent me back to inform your father about what happens there, because he’s the only one who can keep your rage at bay.”

“But still, you came, but my father didn’t. He probably is upset, because of the stupidity I did, when I decided to enter the Mortor Forest, without telling anybody about this, and for him it is betrayal.”

“You still think too much. I’m sure that our father thinks differently than you,” and with the words, two warm and fluffy hands wrapped themselves around Sephir's neck, like a sweet comfort, but the girl did not turn to look at the one who offered her relief, because she smelled Zeal’s scent and felt her quick heart beatings, because only Zeal is capable not to control the pulsations of her life and it was closely related to her character, similar to the waters, because even if she was born as a Water Spirit, in time she had been endowed by Gaea with special powers, because the Titanide had seen in Zeal a strange spirit, twitching in her blood, and which made her be listened even by cobras, who bowed in front of her as if she was their Goddess.

Zeal, who at first wrapped up of her older sister's body with her arms, later sat down next to Sephir and laid down her head on Sephir’s shoulder, whispering: “know that even if you are a big nuisance who most of the time gives me headaches, I’m totally happy that you are back safe and sound.”

Sephir smiled, listening to her because she felt in the shivering of this being, chubby and gentle, the truth. “Why do I feel that you are trying to flatter me?”

“Do you think so? I was just trying to have a conversation!” and both snorted in a burst of crystalline laughter, which revived the horizon.

But still, the feeling that something odd was happening wasn't leaving Arion, who was carefully watching around, but he couldn’t understand where this blow of evil was coming from. Then, as if called by an inner voice, he looked to a thicket in the woods, over the small lake, in which the waters of the Waterfall of Fireflies flowed, and he saw Tenebre, hiding behind a tree, like a shadow, and lurking the two girls.

"She doesn't give us peace, not even here!" he told himself and his hair started to slowly move as if blown by light and warm air current, trying to transform himself in the winged Arion and to chase Tenebre away from there. But the voice of Island, who talked to him as if whispering into his ear, stopped him: “leave her! When she gets tired of watching, she will leave! We don’t have a reason to waste energy and power on useless things.”

Arion, calmer after such words, looked around and saw Island, standing at the edge of the woods, behind them, being accompanied by Dike.

Thus, slowly bending toward the two girls, who didn’t even notice Arion’s bent, he approached the Titan and the Spirit of Ice, who made a sign toward Arion not to reveal their presence there, because he didn’t want to interrupt the girls, who could have stopped their cheerful laughing if seeing him there.

“Leave them to enjoy life, at least for a while,” whispered Island, watching with tenderness his nephews, and he had remembered that he hadn’t had time to hug Sephir and to tell her that he loves her, as he promised to himself. “There is still plenty of time in front,” he said, consoling himself, and again he looked toward the place where Tenebre was hiding and which Dike wasn’t losing it from his sight.

“What do you think she is lurking for this time?” wondered Arion, feeling the slightest anxiety crossing his body. “I don’t like her glance, as I don’t like this place, enchanted by her Black Magic.”

“And thus, she also did a good thing when she hid this rotten place from the humans’glance because it’s better that they see a fairy-like place, then one which smells like death” and Dike’s words sounded so pure, so truthfully, because their meaning made Arion nod in approval.

“It seems to me that you are right, Master Dike!”

“Dike is always right. Especially about truthful things. He can’t lie!” and Island slowly smiled, seeing how the girls were playing with the water, splashing on each other and laughing happily, from all their hearts. “At least they are fine. I’m so glad when I see them both safe and sound.”

“And still, Arion is right. Tenebre not for nothing came here. She’s looking for something,” Dike said and he closed his eyes, trying to see beyond appearances, but in the world where he entered everything was so black, swallowed by darkness, and the sensation of anxiety, which started to press on his soul, forced him to return to the real world. “It smells like rotten,” he said and he decided to enter again the forest, but when his eyes met Sephir’s, for a few seconds both glanced into the eyes of the other as if mirroring in them, and the Titan could see a fragment of a sweet hug between Sephir and Fenrir, somewhere in a hidden place in the woods. “This isn’t something that happened yet and it mustn’t happen,” Dike whispered and he wanted to approach Sephir, but Island’s hand grabbed his, stopping him.

“We aren’t who decides this and you know it well, Dike!”

"You knew about it. I can't believe you agree with Parca's madness!”

“Agree or not, I decided to give Sephir the chance to choose her own destiny, without my intervention in this, because what was planned by Parca it’s just something Parca wishes and she whispered it to Sephir, but she can’t control her fate. Sephir and Fenrir will be those who will decide if to follow this or not because they know better what is telling them their hearts. You better trust your son, Dike. I’m sure he’s wise enough, even at this young age for a young wolf.”

“But still, Island, we are talking about…”

“You can’t play with your heart,” and Island smiled, turning his back to the waterfall, intending to go, but before entering the forest he demanded Arion not to let the girls alone or to lose them from the sight, because Tenebre is still lurking the surroundings and, even if Island didn’t want to show his preoccupation, he was enough nervous about what could have happened.

Dike followed Island right away, when the Spirit of Ice passed the first line of trees which were surrounding the waterfall, leaving Arion in the same place to guard the girls, but the young Arion was quite confused, because, in the end, he didn’t understand what the Titan and Island were talking about and finally, accepting his ignorance in such things, he decided to wait for the girls in silence, till they will finish playing with the water and will decide to follow him.

***

They decided to ignore me, even if they felt my presence,” Tenebre mumbled unhappily, slowly puffing from her nostrils, because it was her manner to show her discontent when it wasn’t something enough big, but when she was really furious, that everything around was shuddering because of her madness, through all her skin pores were exiting heavy, black steam, which was killing everything around with their poisoned scent.

She had decided to come here, to this waterfall, which was born from her sick fantasies, after she saw in the Palantir that Dike had demanded everybody to turn back to the old hidden den of Siar’s People, because that grotto, where they were spending the harsh winters and which was older than hundreds of years, was the perfect place to protect your people of an eventual attack and the only one Tenebre was afraid of because it was coming a kind of strange scent out from it, from the depth of that cave, something that was making the Queen in Black to be so nervous and she had decided to keep distance from that place.

But reaching the waterfall she had saw in amazement her old path over the waters sunk into light and that ripple wasn’t just a blink of something shining over the shadows, but it had part of Dike and Island’s power, who joined their magic to block her passing and of everything enough evil, who was living in the other part of the Forest of Tenebre.

“So much magic force waste in vain,” she grinned unsatisfied when she had remembered that she spent too many days to create this fantastic world, which was hiding another one of fear, and the passing she made through this two-contrast world was like a narrow path, covered by ivy and other evil weeds, which were bending only at her feet, and which were now hardened after being frozen by Island's magic blow.

Even if Tenebre tried to bring them back to life with the fire exiting from her palm, she had failed, because when the fire touched the ice, it didn’t melt. But on the contrary, it had been sent back to Tenebre, like a strong ripple of energy, and the huge heat of her black power almost had burned her palms.

Then, when being furious because of her failure, Tenebre decided to step on that path, on which she had walked so many times before, to spy on Siar People, she saw with amazement how the ivy, which till then had listened only to her command, had curled up around her legs and, fighting with her, it managed, in the end, to throw Tenebre into the water.

Tenebre wasn’t afraid of waters, but she understood that this time she had fallen into her own trap of cunning because the waters between two worlds don’t listen to anybody and everybody who was thrown by the ivy into that water was meant to die because the evil, which was living there, was blind and he couldn’t recognize another evil, but feeling the pulsation of life, sinking into its depth, it was trying to take energy out from the prey and to throw him in the end in the Purgatorium and this way to release the flow of its being of any external influence.

Tenebre struggled for a long time with the ivy in the water, until she finally managed to cut off its frail body with the help of a small knife that she used to wear on her left ankle.

Feeling the sharp blade deeply cutting from its green flesh, the ivy retracted for a few moments on the path to regain strength and later to turn back into the waters, but fate didn’t help the weed, because Tenebre took advantage of being released for moments and she squirted from the waters, intending to run away.

Behind her, the waters also squirted, as if being a possessed demon beyond life, which joined forming two enormous arms, which had caught Tenebre by the waist, intending to drag her back into its depth.

But at the water surface, Tenebre was invincible and, throwing a big fire over the waters, she made them boil and when these started to vanish in an alert tempo and feeling the danger close, the waters turned back into their womb, and when it touched the cold being of the frozen weeds it cooled, the fire had extinguished and the calmness turned back over that fairy-like world, hidden in the shadow of the Magic.

“Only Dike’s Machiavellian thought could create such a trap,” Tenebre wheezed through her teeth and she turned her back to the waters, intending to leave, but seeing Sephir approaching the lake, she decided to wait, because she felt that something important was about to start and her instinct didn’t fail her.

“Something magic will happen between the young wolf and the Spirit of Heavy Rains. A union? But how is it possible? This had never happened before …” but she kept silent as if a hidden current of energy had pierced her body and a revelation blinked into her eyes.

“Parca! Is Mother Nature aware of this? I don’t think so,” she grinned satisfied. “If Gaea knew what the Titanide of Fate was planning for the one created by Mother Earth, then things would have been different. But… what if Gaea had accepted this?! It’s still weird that she didn’t show up around, even if so, many creatures created and protected by her were about to lose their lives today. So, or she’s aware of everything, but she doesn’t come due to her pride, or … she’s somewhere there lurking on something that is about to happen.”

Rubbing her palms and grinning with pleasure, Tenebre lost herself among the trees, under the all-seeing gaze of Arion, who had not escaped her from his sight even for a moment, and when he finally saw her leaving, he had breathed a sigh of relief: not the other, but he did not want another reckless and useless fight for those around him.

***

Lying on a lotus leaf, showed up on those waters from nowhere, Zeal had fell prey into the arms of the God of sleep, for it was not her way to stay awake too long and the fact that she had spent two hours with Sephir was already too much of what she was willing to do.

“I feel that I’m losing power,” she whispered, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, hiding a sweet yawn, and, stretching the empty hand toward the waters, she made the leaf of lotus float on the water surface. “You may wake me if something happens,” she whispered to Sephir and a light gust of wind brought her to the leaf, and, laying her head on her chubby and soft fists, Zeal fell asleep.

Sephir didn’t tell anything to her, because she knows very well the changing essence of Zeal and the fact that she prefers to be alone instead of being with someone for a long time, but she was grateful to her younger sister for the fact that she spent some time with her when she needed so much a sister, even if it was something that Zeal usually does not.

She’s also close to Bestla, but the age difference between the two is something that is easily felt. More than this, Bestla was much closer to Samaya than to her elder sisters, because being the same age as Samaya and with similar powers, the girls had more things in common, more things about which they could talk about or show to each other tricks learned, something that couldn’t happen if she spent her time with Zeal and Sephir because she gets bored so easily when she listens to them talking about Magic Water, the enchanting of the cobras or about the winds. She generally shakes her head listening again to this eternal talk and leaves, because she can’t understand the meaning of that Magic.

Sephir made a barely heard sigh and she bent her head, watching with tenderness at Zeal, who was sleeping like a baby and for a second Sephir got envious of her sister, because she never could sleep like this.

Being a free soul, heady, due to her meaning into this world, she was most of the time awake, but even if she got asleep, somewhere, overwhelmed with feelings, she had a troubled sleep, with nightmares, because she usually was seeing in sleep her mother leaving somewhere, but never coming back.

And again, she remembered the river and the forest from which Fenrir spied on her for the first time, while she was swimming in the waters and a sad smile showed up on her lips. Actually, that smile wasn’t that sad, because it was something that she was remembering with melancholy, because she feels that those memories are like a weird missing of something, a kind of wish that Sephir could never understand, no matter what she did for it.

She even dared to ask Gaea about this, when she finally left aside her pride and she searched for Mother Earth, but Gaea didn’t give her the wished answer. She just told Sephir that it will come the time when she will understand it by herself and that she has not to rush the events.

And that time had come, when she had been hugged underwater by the snake Ian Gyar, threatening her with making her his wife by force and even if Sephir never want to accept any marriage or union, she had regretted it at that moment, because being a free spirit she wanted to be the one who decides this too, but in the end, Fate played a prank on her.

“And still, fate helped me in the last moment,” she whispered because it was true: the Union with the Water Spirit didn’t take place, and she was still a Virgin and she could decide her own fate, and if she wants someone next to her, she will be the one choosing him.

Then, in her mind sneaked Gaea’s words, which she whispered once: “a little boy who will be a man someday,” and those words had been headed to her, describing the 15-years-old Fenrir, who spied on her at the river, and the only one who was still alive, after seeing the splendor of her naked body.

Sephir smiled, stood up and, approaching Arion, she put her palm on his shoulder and she whispered to him: “take care of Zeal. It will be better if we take her somewhere else for sleeping because we can’t leave her here alone” and Arion approved and, leaving Sephir to enter in the depth of the forest, heading toward the den of Siar, Arion approached Zeal and, hugging her gently, he put her on his back, after transforming himself into the winged horse.

Zeal didn’t wake up, at least not completely and, sticking her body to the horse’s warm back, she whispered: “I trust you Arion. Bring me there where your heart it’s demanding you” and he did it, raising up to the sky and leaving her in the sweet hug of a chubby cloud, he sent her to the horizon, while he turned back to Earth.

***

The night is falling in a rush over the sleeping tents, because at this late hour in the night, the People of Siar, tired because of the long journey and of the fight, sunk into the sweet hug of well-deserved sleep.

Around no bark of dogs is heard, as isn’t heard any howl of the wild beasts. Only a light gust of wind is playing with the thick cloth of the tents, trying to move it from its place, but because it hadn’t enough strength it preferred to keep playing with it, tickling its texture.

“It’s warm and so calm here,” whispered Fenrir, with his eyes closed and, turning on the other side of his body, facing the cloth of the tent, he joined his palms and lied down his head on them, because he had a strange desire to dream that night with Sephir.

But a strange and at the same time pleasant feeling pierced his body when the cloth of the tent, that was serving as the door, slowly had been moved aside and somebody’s steps were approaching him, trying to make as less noise as possible.

Even if the noise of the steps weren’t scaring him, something alerted the young man and, standing in a sitting position, Fenrir looked at the guest - Sephir, and he stared at her, with big eyes, not understanding why she had decided to enter his tent, especially when he was still alone.

Sephir instead watched him with kind eyes, but which had in it a strange blink of tenderness, but what amazed Fenrir was the fact that instead of her light dress, knee-deep, with a belt made from dark-brown leather, she was wearing now a long, white silk dress, which was perfectly falling on her slender body, drawing her splendor with perfect skill.

Fenrir shuddered when his eyes lowered down on her soft neck and stopped on the chest part, staring at two blossomed points, which were easily trying to pierce the fine material, revealing a so desired magic in them.

“Why are you here?” Fenrir stuttered, turning his head elsewhere. “You shouldn’t be here at a late hour, especially when we are alone,” but instead of an answer, the girl approached him and sat down on his lap. Fenrir hiccupped.

Turning his head toward her, he watched her as if being enchanted. “I probably dream this,” he said, but a sudden and soft kiss sneaked in his head the sweet taste of reality: “it was real.”

The hem of her dress fell over his bare knees because even if the nights could be so cold in this period of the year, Fenrir used to use short trousers, knee-deep, which weren’t bother him when he was forced to transform into a wolf, because even if the cloth was disappearing somewhere at that moment he still has the feeling that something is cutting his wrists and knees and in time he decided to get rid of that useless material and now, when the skin of his knees was so gently touched by the soft material of Sephir’s dress, inside his chest a warm feeling of pleasure was sneaking in.

“A boy who will someday become a man,” whispered Sephir in the end, bringing him back to reality.

"What?" he murmured foolishly. "What is this?"

"Gratitude," the girl replied, and her hands moved up on his arms, reaching the slight recess of his neck, then her long, fine fingers ran gently through his hair as her lips moved gently, in a soft touch on his fleshy lips.

"Are you sure about that?" Fenrir whispered softly when he felt his being, which had hitherto twitched in a strange shyness and desire, beginning to boil, and his strong arms wrapped around her body, feeling a slight twitch of her being.

"I'm sure. More than sure,” the girl replied, pressing her lips tightly to his, for although she had run away from this union, not understanding its purpose, she had now begun to like it, because that eager trembling of Fenrir's lips, which he still couldn't control it, made her tremble lightly in his arms, anxiously waiting for the sequel.

“But … why?” he continued the series of his questions, amazed to see how the girl is sticking her body closer to his, while in both is awakening the desire, but she also felt that she’s protected in his arms. “It’s because of what happened today? If so, you shouldn’t…”

“Who told you that I do this due to duty?” she answered, looking deeply into his eyes. “I just … I decided to choose alone my path to further walk on and I decided to walk on it with you. But if you don’t agree…”

“I agree,” Fenrir rushed to calm her down. “I just … think that it will be better to wait for … our union, because I must ask your hand to your father, to give you my heart…”

Then, give me this,” told the girl, showing the medallion with a strange form of a Virgin, which was hanging at Fenrir’s neck and which he received as a gift from Parca, who he met one day while walking through the forest.

Then, suddenly came the revelation. “What if … Parca knew about what was coming and because of this she gave him the symbol of his Union with Sephir?” but he had been awakened from his dream by the gentle touch of Sephir’s hands, who was putting a beautiful woven bracelet, made from leather, on his left wrist and which she took out from her cloth, from next to her breast.

“I accept you this way as my soul mate,” she slowly whispered and, finishing her little ritual, somehow innocent and left-handed in motions, she looked into the man’s eyes, waiting for him to accept her, but her waiting didn’t last long, because he right away took the medallion from his neck and put it at hers, and with that medallion came the kiss, one that the girl wished, but it last long to come.

That kiss entered deeply into her bones, being sweet and tender, in contrast with the avalanche of emotions that was making her blood pulsating in the rhythm of the falling of mountain waters.

But when Fenrir’s hand lifted up the cloth of her dress and his palm moved up on her thigh, caressing her skin, the girl shivered and, putting her palm on his, stopping him, she whispered: “not here. Better … not here,” and Fenrir got the message and, standing up, he took her hand into his and both exited the tent.

While the two lovers were entering deep in the woods, Dike descended from the tall tree on whose branch he and Island were climbing, and with a light jump, he touched the ground, watching behind his boy and Sephir.

Island followed him, descending with the same jump and, stretching his arm toward the camp, he allowed it to breath, because till that moment the camp was under his enchant and of Dike, because the two, like two shy boys, decided to give some freedom to the two young lovers, because they knew that if someone would have entered the tent, they could have given up to the idea to be together and Island's touch chase away the numbness which was floating around.

“And I still think that they should have waited,” Dike said, slowly shaking his head.

“But I consider that it’s the perfect time to become relatives,” and putting one palm on his friend’s shoulder, Island smiled, because before Sephir entered Fenrir’s tent she came to Island and she asked his opinion because she considered him as being a deep stream of wisdom.

“Are you sure that you won’t regret it later?” he asked because he knew so well the girl’s desire to be free, but when she nodded in approval and she shyly hid her glance from his, he understood that she had decided it and he accepted it because he wanted to respect her choice.

Giving her his blessing, Island slowly kissed the top of her head and he whispered to her that he loves her and that he will always be next to her, no matter what she decides to do.

***

The place where Fenrir and Sephir hid from the curious eyes of the others, was a little hidden place, which Fenrir discovered when he was still a teen and he needed a place where to dream about her, without being bothered by anybody.

The den was a kind of glade, but smaller in size, only for about few square meters, surrounded by thick trunks of the secular trees, whose large vaults and intertwined with each other, because of the hundreds of branches which unified with the others into a sweet and romantic hug, was hiding the soil even of the sky.

Then were the bushes, which were surrounding the place, transforming it into a green fortress, perfect to hide, in the middle of which, on a bed made from flowers and nice smelling plants, in a life-giving union, were the two young lovers.

Holding her protectively in his arms, while she was still on his lap, Fenrir ran his lips along her neck, sniffing the scent which now, when she was already his, he felt it as if giving him life and the fact that he could hold the one that had been banned for him for such a long time in his arms, it seemed so unreal.

“What are you thinking of?” she asked him, slowly touching his head with her palms and forcing him to watch her.

"At you and at gratitude."

This phrase sketched on the girl's lips a smile. "Why exactly about gratitude?" the girl asked, confused.

“Because it brought you to me and I have you now into my arms, as my wife. And … even if I’m still afraid of not being worthy of you, I prefer to fight with my soul, but to have you forever next to me.”

“And still, not my gratitude brought me with you.”

”Then what exactly?”

“You and the fact that the boy who spied on me once, while I was washing into the waters, became today a man into my arms and I became a woman into his.”

Fenrir smiled, because he liked this thought and, moved by a new desire, he hugged her into his arms, lied her on her back and only the night was the witness of their tender touches, kisses, and movements of a union of their bodies, heated by desire, by the fire of passion and by the weird influence of the nature, which was seeing in this union of love the continuity.