The night that refused to end
The workshop was plunged into deep darkness.
The elves had gathered around them all the objects that came from the human world:
soft ear muffs,
twisted hat,
protective balaclava,
soothing night mask.
They hoped their warmth would revive the magic.
But nothing was moving.
The luminous cap remained dark,
the gate was barely shining anymore,
The Magic Compass trembled slightly.
Even Rudolf seemed worried.
A breath from afar
Pipette clutched the cap in her hands.
Ludo pressed his forehead against the balaclava.
Groubelin murmured a few words of encouragement.
Then, in this icy silence,
Something vibrated.
Initially imperceptible.
Then a little clearer.
A song.
Soft.
Hesitant.
As if supported by several voices.
A human song.
The light always returns
The gate shuddered,
Then the light slowly came back on,
like a tired star catching its breath.
Saint Lucia's candle relit itself.
The red wire vibrated as if through which heat passed.
Pipette felt tears welling up in her eyes.
Rudolf murmured, moved:
"Human light is always reborn."
All it takes is a song, a gesture,
with a breath of hope…
And the magic can return.
The elves looked at each other.
The end was approaching.
And thanks to humans,
Hope was returning.