Khûrsk

Shârawer and the igneous troll were sitting calmly, side by side, in silence. The troll, who had introduced himself as Khûrsk, was gnawing a handful of black gravel, while Shârawer was joining together the pieces of her sword and was trying to stick them all again.

Khûrsk raised his head, astonished, when he saw how the different chunks lift to the same height as the girls’ eyes and, while the light that came of them was changing from blue into orange, they came together and weld. Shârawer was guiding the chunk with slow movements of her eyes, without any effort. In few minutes the sword had its initial shape again.

She sheathed it with a snort, without getting to know that the troll was staring at her with wide open mouth and the gravel falling to the ground.

- Mmmm, excuse me… How have you done that? – the troll closed his mouth.

- That? - she noticed that the orange skin of the creature was getting grey as lava solidifying -  What?

- That, with the sworrrrd… How have you done it?

- Oh, that… - she smiled, surprised – With magic.

- I though magic had disappeared, that the Shadow had eaten it all… - he stopped to gnaw.

- Well, that’s what it’s said… and I always forget it, you know? I was only a child then, and… well, a six years old girl never seems a witch… and so thought the Shadow… - she hit the rock with so strength she bruised her fist - …and in the Disaster of Wizards I was forgotten. No one believed I could be the Magic’s Promise. But, hey! I am. So I’m here…

- And why here? – the troll asked, interested.

- I don’t know. I only know I have to find the way to make the magic return. – she sighed – But I don’t know.

They stood silent, while the night fell, and both tried to sleep a little. Shârawer lied down, and undid the braids which had tied her black hair until then. But she could not sleep, though Khûrsk had already fallen asleep. Every time she laid her head on the stone, she heard shouts and strange noises coming from the earth. She sat up, aware of the growing weariness of the air.

The next day, Khûrsk awoke feeling he was alone. He looked all around him and, certainly, Shârawer had gone. He got up, and tripped with a pile of little coloured stones. He took one and ate it happily.

- I really like that girl. – he said, smiling.

And while the igneous troll was disappearing within the fog, Shârawer was going forward laboriously. The heat had become unbearable; the sweat was running down her neck and flowed to the valley of her breasts. Her hair was wet and stuck at her nude back. The hands hold the torrid rock and went on…

She arrived at the volcano’s cone, and started to go down towards the centre. Her feet were ablaze, and she was surrounded by black dense smoke. She could not breathe anything but sulphur smell, and all seemed to grow bigger and bigger… And she fainted.