The cave is full of wonders but they all fade around the great statue which lie broken on the ground. The copper plates covering it are since long time green, moist, scary. It’s cold. On the floor it’s surrounded by fragments of metal lace. Semicircles of intricate models.

Green and fragile, almost breakable. A rusted sword, curved, carved with strange engravings. A rusted steel sword in a verdigrised copper encasing. I cannot resist to pick it up, my eyes following the patterns on the handle and blade. I turn around as someone, still bent over the statue tries to place back a part of the coper lace. A key. Then, as the old fragments touch the statue starts to move. Without a though I slice it with the sword still in my hand without any resistance. The green metal is now a dark mist which dissipates in a shallow, curved, face. I wake up.

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