Camille
Chapter 9: The Final Workshop
Camille and her friends explore a mysterious cave where it all began. What they discover there could change their view of magic forever.
Reading difficulty
Camille is holding Augustin Lemerle's notebook. Inside, there's a sketch of a mysterious cave. She decides not to go alone. She calls her friends and they agree to go with her.
The group sets off early in the morning. They walk for several hours in the forest. They arrive at a rocky hill. A small opening is visible at its base.
"It's there," said Camille.
They enter a vast cave. Crystals sparkle everywhere. The walls are covered with ancient paintings. Camille recognizes the patterns from her box.
Jules finds a box in the rock. Inside, there is a parchment and a shining bottle. Camille reads the letter: "Magic paints are bonds. Paint together to understand their power."
Camille takes out her paints. "What if we tried it?" Together, they paint on a blank wall. The first draws mechanisms, the second adds animals, and the third creates landscapes. Camille brings her colors.
The cave comes alive. The crystals shine brighter. A voice rings out: "The true power of magic lies in sharing."
Camille finally understands: her paintings are stronger when they are shared.
The group sets off early in the morning. They walk for several hours in the forest. They arrive at a rocky hill. A small opening is visible at its base.
"It's there," said Camille.
They enter a vast cave. Crystals sparkle everywhere. The walls are covered with ancient paintings. Camille recognizes the patterns from her box.
Jules finds a box in the rock. Inside, there is a parchment and a shining bottle. Camille reads the letter: "Magic paints are bonds. Paint together to understand their power."
Camille takes out her paints. "What if we tried it?" Together, they paint on a blank wall. The first draws mechanisms, the second adds animals, and the third creates landscapes. Camille brings her colors.
The cave comes alive. The crystals shine brighter. A voice rings out: "The true power of magic lies in sharing."
Camille finally understands: her paintings are stronger when they are shared.
Augustin Lemerle's notebook is burning Camille's fingers. The sketch of the cave he called "the final workshop" seems to hold important answers. After spending a day thinking about it, Camille decides she can't go alone. She gathers her friends and explains everything to them.
Enthusiastic, they agree to accompany him.
The well-equipped group sets off early in the morning. The guidebook describes the cave's location as being in a remote valley at the foot of a mountain. After several hours of hiking through dense woods and along steep paths, they reach a clearing. A rocky hill rises before them. A small, almost invisible opening is visible at its base. "That's it," says Camille, her heart pounding in her chest.
Upon entering, they discover a vast cave illuminated by crystals that reflect the natural light. The walls are adorned with ancient paintings, as if the cave had once been an immense studio. Camille approaches one wall and recognizes the motifs she has already seen on her box and in the Glade of Reflections. These paintings tell a story: that of Augustin Lemerle and his quest to understand the power of color.
As they explore the cave, one of Camille's friends notices a small box embedded in the rock. He carefully opens it. Inside are a scroll of parchment and a tiny bottle filled with a shiny liquid. Camille unfolds the parchment.
It is a letter: "To whoever finds this workshop: the magic paints are not tools, but links. Each stroke brings hearts closer and reveals the essence of what surrounds us. If you want to understand their true power, paint together."
Camille looks at her friends and takes out her paints. "What if we tried it?" she suggests. Together, they begin to paint on a blank wall. The first draws mechanisms, the second adds animals, the third creates landscapes, and Camille adds her vibrant colors.
As they paint, the cave seems to come alive. The crystals shine brighter, and a fresco emerges beneath their brushes, far more vibrant than anything they could have imagined. When the final stroke is applied, a soft light floods the cave. A voice seems to echo around them: "The true power of magic lies in sharing."
The group is speechless, dazzled by what they have just created. Camille finally understands that her paintings are not just an individual gift, but a force that unites people and magnifies their talents. The final workshop has revealed an essential truth to them: magic becomes stronger when it is shared.
Enthusiastic, they agree to accompany him.
The well-equipped group sets off early in the morning. The guidebook describes the cave's location as being in a remote valley at the foot of a mountain. After several hours of hiking through dense woods and along steep paths, they reach a clearing. A rocky hill rises before them. A small, almost invisible opening is visible at its base. "That's it," says Camille, her heart pounding in her chest.
Upon entering, they discover a vast cave illuminated by crystals that reflect the natural light. The walls are adorned with ancient paintings, as if the cave had once been an immense studio. Camille approaches one wall and recognizes the motifs she has already seen on her box and in the Glade of Reflections. These paintings tell a story: that of Augustin Lemerle and his quest to understand the power of color.
As they explore the cave, one of Camille's friends notices a small box embedded in the rock. He carefully opens it. Inside are a scroll of parchment and a tiny bottle filled with a shiny liquid. Camille unfolds the parchment.
It is a letter: "To whoever finds this workshop: the magic paints are not tools, but links. Each stroke brings hearts closer and reveals the essence of what surrounds us. If you want to understand their true power, paint together."
Camille looks at her friends and takes out her paints. "What if we tried it?" she suggests. Together, they begin to paint on a blank wall. The first draws mechanisms, the second adds animals, the third creates landscapes, and Camille adds her vibrant colors.
As they paint, the cave seems to come alive. The crystals shine brighter, and a fresco emerges beneath their brushes, far more vibrant than anything they could have imagined. When the final stroke is applied, a soft light floods the cave. A voice seems to echo around them: "The true power of magic lies in sharing."
The group is speechless, dazzled by what they have just created. Camille finally understands that her paintings are not just an individual gift, but a force that unites people and magnifies their talents. The final workshop has revealed an essential truth to them: magic becomes stronger when it is shared.
Augustin Lemerle's notebook is burning a hole in Camille's fingers. She's been turning it over and over in her hands for hours. The sketch of the cave, which he called "the final studio," seems to hold crucial answers. The annotations in the margins speak of a secret place where the painter supposedly made his greatest discoveries about the power of magical colors. After spending an entire day pondering it, hesitating, Camille decides she can't go alone.
This adventure is too important, too mysterious. She gathers her friends and explains everything: the notebook, the clues, the mysterious cave. Enthusiastic and curious, they immediately agree to accompany her.
The group, well-equipped with backpacks, headlamps, and provisions, sets off early in the morning. The sun is barely rising when they leave the village. The guidebook describes the cave's location as being in a remote valley at the foot of a rarely visited mountain. After several hours of hiking through dense woods where the trees form a thick canopy, and along steep paths that test their legs, they finally reach a clearing. Before them rises a rocky hill, imposing and silent. A small opening, almost invisible unless you look for it, is visible at the base of the rock.
"It's there," said Camille in a trembling voice, her heart pounding wildly.
They approach cautiously. The opening is narrow, but they manage to slip inside one by one. Upon entering, they discover a vast cavern stretching before them like an underground cathedral. Natural crystals embedded in the walls reflect the sunlight filtering through tiny cracks in the rock. This light creates dancing reflections on the walls. The walls are adorned with ancient paintings, detailed and colorful frescoes, as if the cave had been an immense workshop for years. Camille approaches a wall and observes intently. She recognizes the motifs she has already seen on her box and in the Glade of Reflections. These paintings tell a story: that of Augustin Lemerle and his quest to understand the power of color, to unlock the secrets of the magic that lies dormant within pigments.
The group moves slowly forward, observing every detail: a fresco depicting a man painting surrounded by luminous animals, another scene where children dance around a large tree whose leaves shine like stars. Each image seems to tell a fragment of the painter's story.
As they explored deeper into the cave, one of Camille's friends noticed something unusual: a small box embedded in the rock, at shoulder height. It was old, covered in dust and moss. He opened it carefully, holding his breath. Inside were a scroll of parchment yellowed with age and a tiny bottle filled with a shimmering liquid that seemed to contain light itself. Camille delicately took the parchment and unfolded it. It was a letter written in Augustin Lemerle's own hand.
She reads aloud so her friends can hear:
"To whoever finds this workshop: magical paints are not tools, but connections. Each stroke brings hearts closer and reveals the essence of what surrounds us. If you want to understand their true power, paint together. It is only in sharing that the magic is fully revealed."
A moving silence followed the reading. Camille looked up at her friends. She saw the same emotion in their eyes as she felt. She took her magic paints out of her bag. "What if we tried?"" she suggests in a soft but determined voice. Her friends nod enthusiastically.
Together, they stand before a large, empty wall at the back of the cave. Camille distributes brushes and shares her colors. The first draws imaginary mechanisms, gears, and fantastical machines that seem ready to spring to life; the second adds animals: birds with colorful feathers, mischievous foxes, majestic deer; and the third creates historical landscapes he has studied in his books: castles, ancient villages, stone bridges. Camille adds her vibrant colors, hues that seem to vibrate and dance on the rock.
As they paint, something extraordinary happens. The cave seems to come alive around them. The crystals shine brighter, pulsing gently as if breathing. A magnificent fresco emerges before their eyes, far more vibrant and detailed than anything they could have imagined creating on their own. The colors blend harmoniously, the designs complement each other naturally. Each addition enriches the whole.
When the last stroke is applied, when Camille pulls her brush back with a satisfied smile, a soft, warm light fills the entire cave. It doesn't come from the crystals or from outside, but seems to emanate from the fresco itself. A voice, gentle and benevolent, seems to resonate around them, carried by the echo of the cave: "The true power of magic lies in sharing."
The group remained speechless, motionless, dazzled by what they had just created and by what they had just experienced. The four friends looked at each other, their eyes shining with emotion. Camille finally understood the lesson Augustin Lemerle wanted to convey. His magical paintings were not merely an individual gift, a power she had to keep to herself. They were a force that bound people together, that magnified each person's talents when they came together. The final workshop had revealed to them an essential truth, a truth they would always carry in their hearts: magic becomes stronger, more beautiful, more real when it is shared.
This adventure is too important, too mysterious. She gathers her friends and explains everything: the notebook, the clues, the mysterious cave. Enthusiastic and curious, they immediately agree to accompany her.
The group, well-equipped with backpacks, headlamps, and provisions, sets off early in the morning. The sun is barely rising when they leave the village. The guidebook describes the cave's location as being in a remote valley at the foot of a rarely visited mountain. After several hours of hiking through dense woods where the trees form a thick canopy, and along steep paths that test their legs, they finally reach a clearing. Before them rises a rocky hill, imposing and silent. A small opening, almost invisible unless you look for it, is visible at the base of the rock.
"It's there," said Camille in a trembling voice, her heart pounding wildly.
They approach cautiously. The opening is narrow, but they manage to slip inside one by one. Upon entering, they discover a vast cavern stretching before them like an underground cathedral. Natural crystals embedded in the walls reflect the sunlight filtering through tiny cracks in the rock. This light creates dancing reflections on the walls. The walls are adorned with ancient paintings, detailed and colorful frescoes, as if the cave had been an immense workshop for years. Camille approaches a wall and observes intently. She recognizes the motifs she has already seen on her box and in the Glade of Reflections. These paintings tell a story: that of Augustin Lemerle and his quest to understand the power of color, to unlock the secrets of the magic that lies dormant within pigments.
The group moves slowly forward, observing every detail: a fresco depicting a man painting surrounded by luminous animals, another scene where children dance around a large tree whose leaves shine like stars. Each image seems to tell a fragment of the painter's story.
As they explored deeper into the cave, one of Camille's friends noticed something unusual: a small box embedded in the rock, at shoulder height. It was old, covered in dust and moss. He opened it carefully, holding his breath. Inside were a scroll of parchment yellowed with age and a tiny bottle filled with a shimmering liquid that seemed to contain light itself. Camille delicately took the parchment and unfolded it. It was a letter written in Augustin Lemerle's own hand.
She reads aloud so her friends can hear:
"To whoever finds this workshop: magical paints are not tools, but connections. Each stroke brings hearts closer and reveals the essence of what surrounds us. If you want to understand their true power, paint together. It is only in sharing that the magic is fully revealed."
A moving silence followed the reading. Camille looked up at her friends. She saw the same emotion in their eyes as she felt. She took her magic paints out of her bag. "What if we tried?"" she suggests in a soft but determined voice. Her friends nod enthusiastically.
Together, they stand before a large, empty wall at the back of the cave. Camille distributes brushes and shares her colors. The first draws imaginary mechanisms, gears, and fantastical machines that seem ready to spring to life; the second adds animals: birds with colorful feathers, mischievous foxes, majestic deer; and the third creates historical landscapes he has studied in his books: castles, ancient villages, stone bridges. Camille adds her vibrant colors, hues that seem to vibrate and dance on the rock.
As they paint, something extraordinary happens. The cave seems to come alive around them. The crystals shine brighter, pulsing gently as if breathing. A magnificent fresco emerges before their eyes, far more vibrant and detailed than anything they could have imagined creating on their own. The colors blend harmoniously, the designs complement each other naturally. Each addition enriches the whole.
When the last stroke is applied, when Camille pulls her brush back with a satisfied smile, a soft, warm light fills the entire cave. It doesn't come from the crystals or from outside, but seems to emanate from the fresco itself. A voice, gentle and benevolent, seems to resonate around them, carried by the echo of the cave: "The true power of magic lies in sharing."
The group remained speechless, motionless, dazzled by what they had just created and by what they had just experienced. The four friends looked at each other, their eyes shining with emotion. Camille finally understood the lesson Augustin Lemerle wanted to convey. His magical paintings were not merely an individual gift, a power she had to keep to herself. They were a force that bound people together, that magnified each person's talents when they came together. The final workshop had revealed to them an essential truth, a truth they would always carry in their hearts: magic becomes stronger, more beautiful, more real when it is shared.