Camille
Chapter 8: Secrets of the Attic
While searching in the attic, Camille discovers an old notebook filled with secrets about her magical paintings and their creator. A new lead emerges…
Reading difficulty
Camille didn't sleep well that night.
She thinks about the inscriptions in the clearing and the word "Heritage". Why are her paintings magical?
The next day, she decided to go back to the attic. That's where she found the paint set. Maybe she missed something!
She climbs the creaking stairs and opens the door. Light barely filters through the small window. Camille switches on a flashlight and searches.
She looks in the old trunks and boxes. Then, in a corner, she sees a small wooden box.
Camille sits down and opens the box. Inside, she finds an old notebook. The cover has patterns like those on her paint set. She opens the notebook and reads. The first pages are notes and drawings by Augustin Lemerle.
She discovers that Lemerle has traveled far and wide in search of rare colors. He describes the Glade of Reflections. He explains that colors have power. But he has made a mistake.
Camille reads:
"Paints should not be used carelessly. Every brushstroke is important."
These words send shivers down her spine. She understands that her magical paintings are a great responsibility. She turns the pages and finds a drawing of a cave. A note reads:
"The final workshop. Where it all began."
Camille closes the notebook. She must find this cave. But she will need help.
She thinks about the inscriptions in the clearing and the word "Heritage". Why are her paintings magical?
The next day, she decided to go back to the attic. That's where she found the paint set. Maybe she missed something!
She climbs the creaking stairs and opens the door. Light barely filters through the small window. Camille switches on a flashlight and searches.
She looks in the old trunks and boxes. Then, in a corner, she sees a small wooden box.
Camille sits down and opens the box. Inside, she finds an old notebook. The cover has patterns like those on her paint set. She opens the notebook and reads. The first pages are notes and drawings by Augustin Lemerle.
She discovers that Lemerle has traveled far and wide in search of rare colors. He describes the Glade of Reflections. He explains that colors have power. But he has made a mistake.
Camille reads:
"Paints should not be used carelessly. Every brushstroke is important."
These words send shivers down her spine. She understands that her magical paintings are a great responsibility. She turns the pages and finds a drawing of a cave. A note reads:
"The final workshop. Where it all began."
Camille closes the notebook. She must find this cave. But she will need help.
Back home after her visit to the Clearing of Reflections, Camille cannot fall asleep.
The mysterious inscriptions, the word "Heritage," and Madame Rousseau's revelations keep replaying in her mind. What does it all mean? Why are her magical paintings linked to the missing artist, Augustin Lemerle?
The next morning, Camille wakes up with an idea. She has to go back to the attic. That's where she found the paint set for the first time. She might have missed something important!
She climbs the creaking stairs and opens the attic door. Daylight barely filters through the small, dusty window. Dust particles dance in the beam of light. Camille switches on a flashlight and begins to search carefully.
She surveys the old trunks filled with antique clothes, the boxes crammed with yellowed books, and the furniture draped in white sheets. She moves objects, lifts fabrics, opens drawers. Then, in a dark corner she had never really explored, she spots a small carved wooden box.
Camille sat down on the floor, her heart pounding, and opened the box. Inside, she found a notebook yellowed with age. The cover was decorated with delicate patterns that bore a striking resemblance to those engraved on her paint set: spirals, leaves, mysterious symbols. Excited, she opened the notebook and began to read the pages written in black ink.
The first pages contain notes and drawings signed by Augustin Lemerle himself. His handwriting is elegant but sometimes difficult to decipher. Camille reads carefully. She discovers that Lemerle traveled the world in search of rare pigments and magical places to create his extraordinary paintings.
He describes the Glade of Reflections as a powerful source of inspiration, but also as a place where he discovered something important: colors are not just beautiful, they have real power. However, as the pages turn, Lemerle's tone changes. He writes that he made a mistake.
On a more damaged page, stained by damp, Camille reads these disturbing words:
"Paints should not be used without clear intention. Every brushstroke carries a responsibility. I fear that this power could fall into the wrong hands."
These words send shivers down Camille's spine. She now understands that her magical paints are not only a wonderful gift, but also a great responsibility. She cannot use them lightly.
She continues leafing through the notebook and finds a detailed sketch of another place: a cave surrounded by trees, with patterns carved into the walls, similar to those in the clearing. A small note is written below the drawing:
"The final workshop. Where it all began."
Camille closes the notebook, her mind buzzing with questions. She knows she absolutely must find this place. Perhaps this mysterious cave holds answers about the origin of the paintings, or about the mistake Lemerle mentions in his notebook. But this time, she understands she'll need help to succeed. This adventure will be more dangerous than the previous ones.
The mysterious inscriptions, the word "Heritage," and Madame Rousseau's revelations keep replaying in her mind. What does it all mean? Why are her magical paintings linked to the missing artist, Augustin Lemerle?
The next morning, Camille wakes up with an idea. She has to go back to the attic. That's where she found the paint set for the first time. She might have missed something important!
She climbs the creaking stairs and opens the attic door. Daylight barely filters through the small, dusty window. Dust particles dance in the beam of light. Camille switches on a flashlight and begins to search carefully.
She surveys the old trunks filled with antique clothes, the boxes crammed with yellowed books, and the furniture draped in white sheets. She moves objects, lifts fabrics, opens drawers. Then, in a dark corner she had never really explored, she spots a small carved wooden box.
Camille sat down on the floor, her heart pounding, and opened the box. Inside, she found a notebook yellowed with age. The cover was decorated with delicate patterns that bore a striking resemblance to those engraved on her paint set: spirals, leaves, mysterious symbols. Excited, she opened the notebook and began to read the pages written in black ink.
The first pages contain notes and drawings signed by Augustin Lemerle himself. His handwriting is elegant but sometimes difficult to decipher. Camille reads carefully. She discovers that Lemerle traveled the world in search of rare pigments and magical places to create his extraordinary paintings.
He describes the Glade of Reflections as a powerful source of inspiration, but also as a place where he discovered something important: colors are not just beautiful, they have real power. However, as the pages turn, Lemerle's tone changes. He writes that he made a mistake.
On a more damaged page, stained by damp, Camille reads these disturbing words:
"Paints should not be used without clear intention. Every brushstroke carries a responsibility. I fear that this power could fall into the wrong hands."
These words send shivers down Camille's spine. She now understands that her magical paints are not only a wonderful gift, but also a great responsibility. She cannot use them lightly.
She continues leafing through the notebook and finds a detailed sketch of another place: a cave surrounded by trees, with patterns carved into the walls, similar to those in the clearing. A small note is written below the drawing:
"The final workshop. Where it all began."
Camille closes the notebook, her mind buzzing with questions. She knows she absolutely must find this place. Perhaps this mysterious cave holds answers about the origin of the paintings, or about the mistake Lemerle mentions in his notebook. But this time, she understands she'll need help to succeed. This adventure will be more dangerous than the previous ones.
Back home after her visit to the Clearing of Reflections, Camille cannot fall asleep.
Lying in bed, her eyes wide open in the darkness of her room, she relives everything she experienced today. The mysterious inscriptions she saw carved in the stone of the clearing, the word "Heritage" which seems to refer to her directly, and Madame Rousseau's disturbing revelations about Augustin Lemerle keep replaying in her mind.
What does it all mean? Why do her magical paintings seem connected to this long-vanished artist? What exactly is the link between her, the box of paints, and this mysterious Lemerle? The questions pile up without clear answers. Camille finally falls asleep very late that night, a restless sleep filled with strange dreams where colors dance and symbols glow in the forest.
The next morning, Camille woke up with a fixed idea. She absolutely had to go back to the attic. It was there, in that dusty place filled with memories of the past, that she had first found the set of paints at the beginning of the summer. At the time, she had simply been looking for something to do during the holidays. But now, she understood that the set hadn't been there by chance. Perhaps she had missed something important. Perhaps there were other clues to the origin of these magical paints.
After breakfast, she climbs the stairs to the attic. The steps creak softly beneath her feet, as if announcing her arrival. She opens the door, which resists slightly, and then steps into the attic. Daylight barely filters through the small, dusty window under the roof. Dust particles float and dance in the thin ray of light that filters through the room. The air smells of old wood and yellowed paper.
Camille turns on a flashlight she took from the kitchen drawer and begins to search methodically.
She surveys the old trunks filled with antique clothes that smell of mothballs, the stacked boxes full of yellowed books with fragile pages, and the furniture covered with white sheets that look like ghosts in the dim light. She moves objects carefully, lifts fabrics, opens drawers stuck shut by dampness.
She searched for nearly an hour, lifting every object, inspecting every nook and cranny. Then, in a dark corner of the attic she had never really explored before, behind an old leather trunk, she spotted a small, finely carved wooden box. How could she have missed it the first time? The box looked old and precious.
Her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation, Camille sat down on the dusty floor and placed the box in front of her. She blew on the lid to remove the accumulated dust, then carefully opened it. Inside, protected by a faded red velvet cloth, she found a notebook yellowed with age. The leather cover was adorned with delicate hand-engraved designs: interlaced spirals, stylized leaves, mysterious geometric symbols that bore a striking resemblance to those engraved on her paint set.
With slightly trembling hands, Camille carefully opens the notebook. The pages creak softly beneath her fingers. She begins to read the first few pages, written in black ink in an elegant, slanted hand, sometimes difficult to decipher. The first pages contain detailed notes, observations on nature, and magnificent drawings of landscapes, plants, and minerals. Everything isSigned by Augustin Lemerle himself.
As Camille reads, she discovers that Lemerle was not just a painter. He was a true explorer, a passionate researcher. He traveled the world, from Europe to the far reaches of Asia and Africa, in search of rare and extraordinary pigments and magical places to create his paintings. He describes mines hidden in the mountains, flowers that only bloom under the full moon, and colored earths that he harvested himself to make his paints.
He also describes the Glade of Reflections as a powerful and profound source of inspiration, a unique place where nature and magic meet. But he also explains that he discovered something there that changed his life: colors are not just beautiful to look at, they have real power. They can alter reality, create, transform. This power comes from the earth itself, from places where a particular energy reigns.
However, as the pages turn, Lemerle's tone gradually changes. His writing becomes more nervous, more concise. He writes with concern that he has made a mistake. He shared his secret with someone who shouldn't have known it. He created several sets of magical paints, thinking that other artists would share his vision and use this power wisely. But he was wrong.
On a more damaged page, stained by damp and time, Camille reads these disturbing words that chill her to the bone:
"Paintings should not be used without clear and pure intention. Every brushstroke carries immense responsibility. The power to create is also the power to destroy. I now fear that this power may fall into the wrong hands. I have decided to hide the remaining boxes and protect the source locations. But I don't know if that will be enough."
These words send shivers down Camille's spine. She now understands clearly that her magical paints are not only a wonderful gift that allows her to bring her creations to life, but also a great responsibility she must bear. She cannot use them lightly, without considering the consequences. Every painting she creates with these colors can have an impact on the world around her.
She continued to leaf through the notebook with even greater care and, towards the end, found a detailed and precise sketch of another place she didn't know: a cave surrounded by ancient trees, with geometric patterns and ancient symbols carved into the rock walls, very similar to those she had seen in the Glade of Reflections. The drawing was beautiful and precise. A small note was written below the sketch, in Lemerle's now-familiar handwriting:
"The final workshop. Where it all began. Where the primary source of power resides."
Camille slowly closed the notebook, clutching it to her chest. Her mind was abuzz with questions and a jumble of emotions. She knew now that she absolutely had to find that mysterious place. Perhaps that secret cave held crucial answers about the true origin of the magical paintings, or about the grave error Lemerle mentioned in his notebook. Perhaps she would even discover there who she truly was and why the word "Heritage" seemed to define her.
But this time, she understands that the adventure will be different. More dangerous, more important. She will need help to find this cave and understand all its mysteries. She cannot go alone. She must speak to someone she trusts. Perhaps Madame Rousseau, or her friends who have always supported her in heradventures.
Camille comes down from the attic, the precious notebook hidden under her arm, her heart filled with a newfound determination. Her journey to understand the mystery of the magical paintings has only just begun.
Lying in bed, her eyes wide open in the darkness of her room, she relives everything she experienced today. The mysterious inscriptions she saw carved in the stone of the clearing, the word "Heritage" which seems to refer to her directly, and Madame Rousseau's disturbing revelations about Augustin Lemerle keep replaying in her mind.
What does it all mean? Why do her magical paintings seem connected to this long-vanished artist? What exactly is the link between her, the box of paints, and this mysterious Lemerle? The questions pile up without clear answers. Camille finally falls asleep very late that night, a restless sleep filled with strange dreams where colors dance and symbols glow in the forest.
The next morning, Camille woke up with a fixed idea. She absolutely had to go back to the attic. It was there, in that dusty place filled with memories of the past, that she had first found the set of paints at the beginning of the summer. At the time, she had simply been looking for something to do during the holidays. But now, she understood that the set hadn't been there by chance. Perhaps she had missed something important. Perhaps there were other clues to the origin of these magical paints.
After breakfast, she climbs the stairs to the attic. The steps creak softly beneath her feet, as if announcing her arrival. She opens the door, which resists slightly, and then steps into the attic. Daylight barely filters through the small, dusty window under the roof. Dust particles float and dance in the thin ray of light that filters through the room. The air smells of old wood and yellowed paper.
Camille turns on a flashlight she took from the kitchen drawer and begins to search methodically.
She surveys the old trunks filled with antique clothes that smell of mothballs, the stacked boxes full of yellowed books with fragile pages, and the furniture covered with white sheets that look like ghosts in the dim light. She moves objects carefully, lifts fabrics, opens drawers stuck shut by dampness.
She searched for nearly an hour, lifting every object, inspecting every nook and cranny. Then, in a dark corner of the attic she had never really explored before, behind an old leather trunk, she spotted a small, finely carved wooden box. How could she have missed it the first time? The box looked old and precious.
Her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation, Camille sat down on the dusty floor and placed the box in front of her. She blew on the lid to remove the accumulated dust, then carefully opened it. Inside, protected by a faded red velvet cloth, she found a notebook yellowed with age. The leather cover was adorned with delicate hand-engraved designs: interlaced spirals, stylized leaves, mysterious geometric symbols that bore a striking resemblance to those engraved on her paint set.
With slightly trembling hands, Camille carefully opens the notebook. The pages creak softly beneath her fingers. She begins to read the first few pages, written in black ink in an elegant, slanted hand, sometimes difficult to decipher. The first pages contain detailed notes, observations on nature, and magnificent drawings of landscapes, plants, and minerals. Everything isSigned by Augustin Lemerle himself.
As Camille reads, she discovers that Lemerle was not just a painter. He was a true explorer, a passionate researcher. He traveled the world, from Europe to the far reaches of Asia and Africa, in search of rare and extraordinary pigments and magical places to create his paintings. He describes mines hidden in the mountains, flowers that only bloom under the full moon, and colored earths that he harvested himself to make his paints.
He also describes the Glade of Reflections as a powerful and profound source of inspiration, a unique place where nature and magic meet. But he also explains that he discovered something there that changed his life: colors are not just beautiful to look at, they have real power. They can alter reality, create, transform. This power comes from the earth itself, from places where a particular energy reigns.
However, as the pages turn, Lemerle's tone gradually changes. His writing becomes more nervous, more concise. He writes with concern that he has made a mistake. He shared his secret with someone who shouldn't have known it. He created several sets of magical paints, thinking that other artists would share his vision and use this power wisely. But he was wrong.
On a more damaged page, stained by damp and time, Camille reads these disturbing words that chill her to the bone:
"Paintings should not be used without clear and pure intention. Every brushstroke carries immense responsibility. The power to create is also the power to destroy. I now fear that this power may fall into the wrong hands. I have decided to hide the remaining boxes and protect the source locations. But I don't know if that will be enough."
These words send shivers down Camille's spine. She now understands clearly that her magical paints are not only a wonderful gift that allows her to bring her creations to life, but also a great responsibility she must bear. She cannot use them lightly, without considering the consequences. Every painting she creates with these colors can have an impact on the world around her.
She continued to leaf through the notebook with even greater care and, towards the end, found a detailed and precise sketch of another place she didn't know: a cave surrounded by ancient trees, with geometric patterns and ancient symbols carved into the rock walls, very similar to those she had seen in the Glade of Reflections. The drawing was beautiful and precise. A small note was written below the sketch, in Lemerle's now-familiar handwriting:
"The final workshop. Where it all began. Where the primary source of power resides."
Camille slowly closed the notebook, clutching it to her chest. Her mind was abuzz with questions and a jumble of emotions. She knew now that she absolutely had to find that mysterious place. Perhaps that secret cave held crucial answers about the true origin of the magical paintings, or about the grave error Lemerle mentioned in his notebook. Perhaps she would even discover there who she truly was and why the word "Heritage" seemed to define her.
But this time, she understands that the adventure will be different. More dangerous, more important. She will need help to find this cave and understand all its mysteries. She cannot go alone. She must speak to someone she trusts. Perhaps Madame Rousseau, or her friends who have always supported her in heradventures.
Camille comes down from the attic, the precious notebook hidden under her arm, her heart filled with a newfound determination. Her journey to understand the mystery of the magical paintings has only just begun.