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14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiGiG7QdKwD
A broad smile now lit up his face and he rushed towards the person who came through the door. It was the young woman from the alley, answering to the sweet name of Marion.
Her face was radiant too, as she opened her arms to welcome the little rocket running towards her, shouting her name.
“Mommy!”
“It's okay, baby. Did you behave yourself while Mommy was out?”
He nodded vigorously as his mother lifted him in her arms.
“But I'm not a baby anymore!” he joked as he struggled to get down.
“Ah yes, that's right. You're six now!”
“That's right, so I'm allowed to stay up late and sleep in.”
“No, you're not. Now go to bed, it's a school night.”
The little boy fiercely refuted with his head as he fled into the living room and climbed onto the sofa to jump up and down shouting his opposition.
“I don't want to!”
Marion approached her child, looking at him long and hard.
She loved her little boy so much. A little boy who had been anything but blessed by nature. Despite the passage of time, she still couldn't get used to people's stares, their criticism, their thinly disguised contempt at the sight of her little boy, especially when they saw the stark contrast between mother and son.
While she herself was of extraordinary splendor and brilliance, Conor was of barely tolerable ugliness and heaviness.
His hair was a dull black and his eyes an almost transparent light gray.
To compensate for this almost unfair appearance, his mother spoiled him as much as she could, indulging his every whim and buying him nice things, like the clothes he was wearing right now, a pair of designer navy blue jeans and a high-quality T-shirt featuring his favorite hero, Vector, the golden prince of fairies.
But he was growing up and beginning to feel the cruel mockery of others, of children, especially those his own age.
What malicious fairy could have bent over his cradle to curse him like that? Marion wondered and cursed him or her with all her being.
She grimaced, then stroked his hair.
“You really need to go to sleep.”
“I said no.”
She ran her hands under his shoulders to lift him.
“Then let's make a deal. If you agree to go to bed... I'll tell you a story...”
“But you always do!” interrupted Conor.
“Yes, but this time the story will be different.”
“Really!”
Her son's eyes sparkled with excitement and his smile widened even more, if that's possible.
“Is it true?”
“Yes.” affirmed his mother.
“And I'll like it?”
“I'm sure you will.”
He laughed as he clung to the beautiful witch.
“Then it's agreed.”
He let his mother carry him to his room, whose decor betrayed a great love, including that of magic.
The room was decorated in blue and white tones, the walls were adorned with drawings of cartoon heroes, and the ceiling was decorated with dimly lit constellations.
Marion gently laid her son on the floor, searched for his pyjamas in the wardrobe and handed them to him.
“Come on, get changed quickly, then brush your teeth!
Conor changed, Marion went to put his clothes away using magic, and the little rascal, instead of going to the bathroom, opened his mouth and looked up at his mother.
She tried to be stern, but it was a losing battle.
She sighed and magically cleaned her darling child's teeth.
“Thanks, Mom.”
He jumped into bed and his mother arranged the covers, then sat down beside him and prepared to tell him the story.
“I'm ready, Mom! Come on, start!”
“Okay. Then listen carefully.”
She took a deep breath.
“The story took place a hundred years ago, in the city's northern district. It was a battle between Zion, the great warrior mage, and Jaros, the black mage, the two most powerful mages of their time. It was so epic that it became the most mythical event in the magical world. At least in this world.”
“Wouah! It's true that I've never heard of them. But why did they fight?” the little boy couldn't help asking.
“For the same usual, timeless reason, honey. The clash between good and evil. Light and darkness.”
Marion clasped her hands together as she continued.
“Can you imagine it, my darling? That battle, so extraordinary, astronomical that it was able to engulf our entire state. Your grandfather told me that the earth shook like a raging ocean, and that everything collapsed, that the rain that poured down unceasingly was made of blood and dissolved, burned everything it touched, and that the night they created in their immeasurable confrontation seemed never to end. The spectacle was as epic as it was monstrous. But after three days, three days as interminable as they were catastrophic, the battle finally came to an end.”
“And who won?”
Marion stroked her son's belly through the clothes and blankets.
“What do you think won?”
He thought for a moment, then exclaimed, hopeful.
“Zion!”
“Yes, it's true. The great warrior prince Zion has won, my darling. Good has triumphed.”
“I wish I could have been there, Mom,” the little man said, his eyes cloudy.
“I know.”
Conor's radiant, dreamy face darkened, which worried and saddened his mother.
“What's the matter, darling?”
“I'd like to be like Zion when I grow up. To be as powerful and wonderful and handsome as he was. Because he was handsome, wasn't he?”
His mother held back tears with all her might as she stroked her son's hair, his face repulsive.
“Yes, he was. He was the best. And I'm sure,” she added, not without desperately holding back from biting her lips to the quick, ”that you'll be just like him someday.”
“As soon as I awaken my magical powers, I'm going to work really hard. When's that, in fact?” He frowned, reflecting all his anguish in his eyes.
“Soon, darling.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He grimaced and sketched a pout.
“The others say I'm slow. That I'll never get anywhere.”
“But no, my love. You're just a little late, that's all.”
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