A place known as Bourgain Ville, amidst the Vignes de Chartreuse, in an alternate and parallel realm.

It is said that the name bougainvillea was bestowed upon these climbing plants, native to Brazil just like the jacaranda trees, by the botanist Jeanne Baret. Her extraordinary story, intertwined with what we are about to narrate, cannot be overlooked. Yet, for now, let us delve deeper into the roots of the name itself, which stretches beyond a mere association with the adventurous seafarer, Louis-Antoine de Bougainville. In the expedition of 1776, she disguised herself as a man, assuming the role of an assistant to the naturalist Philibert Commerson. It's as if we're drawing an excerpt from Les Misérables.

Amidst Vignes de Chartreuse, in the hamlet of Bourgain Ville, tucked away in an alternate dimension, invisible to human eyes, between the walls of Homero Núñez's "Cuentero" garden of his House of The Gaze and the neighboring Spaniard House, there stood a hovel, a two-story house, nearly in ruins, bearing the enigmatic number 329-923. It was known as the Gorbeau House. At first glance, it appeared to be a humble shack, but in truth, it was grand, akin to a cathedral. Its facade was almost entirely shrouded in thorny ivy, deeply rooted in its walls. Nearby, in the neighboring plot (known in Homero's world as the Santera House) there was a deep cavern leading to a colossal geode of agate and amethyst, where galaxies and the most remote and mysterious stars gleamed within its crystals. Only a select few were granted access. The Gorbeau House stood, solemnly regal amidst a desolate, cold, and enigmatic environment, one of which the inhabitants of Sonnenblumendorf, like Homero Núñez, in their perceived reality, remained wholly unaware of its existence. Not even the astute Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, despite his encounter with the controversial Cottingley evidence, had ever caught wind of it in the annals of human history.

Small, wild grass-covered hills were scattered across the forest, in the plains, alongside the ford and the course of the dark tributary, Dragonehri Telafieri, whose foul miasma lent an eerie yet sinister air to the place. These numerous mounds surrounding the Gorbeau House concealed the archaeological remnants of ancient structures built with dolmens. Together, they transformed the fief of Haus des Blicks into a misty and eerie necropolis. Here, the whispers of the wind, the glint of the kûyué, and the creaking of the chan among the branches wove an unsettling atmosphere.

Upon the largest of these mounds, five tall, dark stone towers stood, like silent, imposing sentinels of a long-forgotten past.

In that shadowy setting resided Liû Mó, Master of Gorbeau, an enigmatic figure, writer, and visual artist, once known to humans as the Green Elf. Liû Mó was famed for his ceaseless grumbling, a perfectionist taskmaster, a mischievous and incorrigible jester, barely tolerated by his housekeeper, the adventuring herbalist elf Elowyn Greensprout.

Originally, the Gorbeau House was known as Auberge de Gourd Beau, which translates to "Inn of the Beautiful Halt," long ago. The name underwent etymological changes and linguistic shifts over time, culminating in Gorbeau. Eventually, the building relinquished its inn's role when Liû Mó acquired it, turning it into his hermit artist's home and sanctuary.

The exterior of the house was ensconced in vines woven with thorn-like dragon claws. To the perspective of Homero Núñez's human mundanity, these merged with the ivy and bougainvillea, forming a defensive rampart, a constant reminder that nature could rebel at even the slightest provocation.

Both inside and outside the Gorbeau House, the walls bore enigmatic carved faces; these, in contrast, Homero saw in his world as splotches on the peeling wall or games of figures within the foliage, as his gestalt imagination, according to him, played tricks on him. Liû Mó had breathed life into most of these visages, sculpting them and, in some cases, meticulously painting them, t times, he'd erase and reshape them, reflecting the beauty or dread of his mood and circumstances. Thus, Liû Mó had crafted a subtle gallery of motifs, effigies, and doodles that were far more than mere decorations, serving a dual purpose: to blend in among them and merge with the walls when the need to hide arose. They were an intrinsic part of the Gorbeau House's soul, each one etched as a vestige of its history interwoven with threads of mysteries, shadows, and secrets, perhaps accessible only to those capable of perceiving beyond forms, those like Elowyn Greensprout, blessed with the gift of discerning invisible connections that weave a delicate tapestry in time and space.

Within such a tapestry, the lives of Liû Mó, Jeanne Baret, and Victor Hugo appeared to subtly converge like threads in an intricate web. The symbols on the walls became silent guardians, bearing witness to the changes that, over the years, had shaped the legendary essence of the Gorbeau House. These very changes had inspired Victor Hugo, born five years after Jeanne Baret's passing, to include the property in his masterpiece, even though the author of characters like Jean Valjean never set foot in that place.

Amidst these interwoven layers of time and realities, Elowyn Greensprout emerged as a living enigma transcending the boundaries of her own dimension. Her time-transmigration ability influenced various eras and dimensions, including Homero's world and the times of his ancestors. There appeared to be no direct relationship between Elowyn and those she manifested as alter egos, yet the possibility slid through the fabric of time with each transmigration experienced by the elf.

Originating from a parallel dimension separate from Liû Mó's, Elowyn surpassed the boundaries of her universe to assume various guises, including that of Jeanne Baret, the botanist whose legacy would influence the bougainvillea and the Gorbeau House. Her gift as a shapeshifter turned her into a mosaic of epochs and names. As the Weaver of Metaphors, she wove language strands resonating throughout the history she molded. Through invisible connections, she influenced the evolution of events, concepts, and words across the ages. For instance, the notion of a "burgo" united the dimensions of Homero and Liû Mó.

In Liû Mó's dimension, as in that of Cuentero, the term "burgo" referred to an urban concept. In Cuentero's world, initially among Germanic peoples and in Roman times, it applied to small fortified towers or posts. In the High Middle Ages, a burgo was considered a castle built by a feudal lord for purely military purposes, such as a frontier outpost or watchtower. These burgos were often strategically positioned for their defensive character, like a high point, or for strategic purposes, like a crossroads, a river ford, or a valley in a mountain pass.

With the same characteristics, especially in the Late Middle Ages, a period characterized as an urban and commercial revolution from the mid-12th century, the name "burgo" extended to neighborhoods around markets near churches. Or outside the walls of pre-existing cities (an urban figure equivalent to the suburbs of Muslim medinas). The settlements that developed around these constructions were known as towns or villages, hence the inhabitants of Bourgain Ville, when transitioning from their dimension to that of Homero Núñez, continued to consider Sonnenblumendorf as an extension of the burgo from which they originated. The distinctive language, known as Burgundian, led to their recognition as Burgundian realms.

In a parallel dimension to Homero's, the history of Bourgain Ville shared some similarities with the European settlements of Worms, Strasbourg, and Speyer in Homero's world, dating back to around 413 AD, albeit with elemental differences. The most significant of these was that the Burgundians in the parallel dimension were a magical people, a category that not even as a tourist designation did the industrial municipality of Naucalpan, home to Sonnenblumendorf or Villa Florida de los Girasoles, as Homero Núñez knew it, aspire to. Perhaps driven by similar speculations, Homero hypothesized that Louis-Antoine de Bouganville had Burgundian ancestry, synthesized in his now-celebrated surname. Perhaps, in her guise as Jeanne Baret, Elowyn aimed to establish a secret interdimensional linguistic bridge with the plant's name. Beyond being a simple tribute to the explorer, she conferred the surname upon the bougainvillea plants, alluding to the defensive barrier and the border between human and fantastic dimensions.

It may sound like a truism to know that the inhabitants of the "burgos" were called "borgoños" or "bourgeois," while those in the "villas" were referred to as "villains." Well, if Homero was a declining bourgeois, Liû Mó was mischievous but not in the perverted way that human and alien writers and filmmakers often portrayed characters like Homero or Ana Gramma. Although mischievous, Liû Mó was not malevolent. However, life and ambition had toughened both his skin and his spirit.

One day, as Homero attacked the bougainvillea plants in his Sonnenblumendorf garden, the inhabitants in their counterpart, Bourgain Ville, were gripped by terror. Every swing of the writer's machete reverberated through the portal, and the vibrations shook the ground in the parallel dimension so intensely that it seemed like an earthquake of cataclysmic proportions. Soon, the gnomes and elves tasked with maintaining balance between dimensions transformed into flies, beetles, spiders, ladybugs, ants, snails, and other creatures to move to Cuentero's world and investigate the causes of these disastrous tremors. Some even circled around Homero's head and face, attempting to dissuade him from continuing. Yet, he, oblivious to their identities and efforts, focused on his task and merely swatted at what he perceived as annoying and impertinent insects.

That night, with calm returned to Bourgain Ville, a committee of gnomes, fairies, elves, alushes, and trolls gathered at the Gorbeau House to meet with Master Liû Mó.

"Master, we must take action," one of the attendees expressed with evident concern in their demeanor. "The ogre of Haus des Blicks has destroyed the wasteland of Sonnenblumendorf, the wall near the portal has collapsed, and now only shattered trunks remain."

"What worries you? The ogre lacks the capacity and skills to move from his dimension to our world. He doesn't even perceive it. No human in any of our Burgundian realms has crossed the borders. Not in centuries."

"You're mistaken! You forget that young lad, Jack, with the magic beans I traded for his cow. Now he has, at the very least, caused a catastrophe that not even his gardeners achieved over the centuries," an elderly chaneque claimed, visibly upset.

"From what I've seen," said a fairy while grooming one of her wings, "he has wreaked such havoc that even the land now appears dry, resembling the frightful, petrified forest in the Shihuà shù wasteland."

"I understand. What do you suggest?"

"Let's put a stop to it! Let's finish the ogre! Let's kill him!" a furious troll exclaimed.

"Yes, it would be delightful to sink our teeth into his human flesh!" added his companion, licking his lips.

"No way! We won't be the ones to break the pact made with the humans. Our word is as valuable as the Baron de Münchaussen's promissory note," intervened the old blue gnome Cyanan Souto, rising from his seat, emphasizing his lineage's dignity with his posture. "In any case, we have two things to do: keep a close eye on the ogre's actions, in case the extent of the havoc intensifies. And second, convene a council of the Burgundian kings from the Sonnenblumendorf region. I don't think a meeting of masters and mayors alone will suffice. Here, only the affected villagers are gathered, but if the reckless ogre manages to weaken the portal, not only will Bourgain Ville be at risk of contamination with human presence, it would be monstrous!"

The attendees reacted to the words of the old gnome. Liû Mó listened attentively to the subsequent interventions, taking note of the various proposals, some verbose, others judicious. In the end and in summary, they agreed on three lines of action: they would alert the Burgundian kings about what had occurred, prepare for war in case the need to defend themselves or even assault Homero's world in anticipation of a greater disaster arose. However, as the primary preventive strategy, Liû Mó himself would journey to the parallel universe to warn Homero, whom his people identified as "The Ogre of Haus des Blicks," about the consequences of his senseless fury.

"And remember, Liû Mó, who you were for a time in the ogre's life. Perhaps no one is better than you to influence his decisions and actions," the charismatic and wise Cyanan added with a smile, his brilliant, round honey-colored eyes contrasting with the deep navy blue hue of his skin, for which he was known as the ultramarine gnome.

"Sometimes I think, Mr. Souto, that you had more influence on him than I did."

"Bah! Put aside jealousy. No one is better than a father to affect a child's mood."

"If he ever was my son," Liû Mó murmured, melancholic.

* * *

Planet Su'ur, shortly before the Age of Rebellion.

The greatest challenge for the planet Su'ur was looming. Shêner Kahartan knew it, which is why he had traveled through time and space to the past, to a point that future historians, like himself, would call the Age of Rebellion.

He arrived precisely at the historical turning point that, as per records, would shape the planet's evolution.

During that time, as the historian Tariche Kahartan, one of his ancestors, had recounted in one of his books, Amira, the young heir to the Kingdom of Ánonsor, was plotting a plan that would change the course of Su'ur's history, leading to a long succession of events that would ultimately result in the extinction of an entire species. What an ironic contradiction! The quest for freedom would eventually yield the contrary outcome over centuries., and the obsession of Su'ur's residents with libertarian and democratic ambitions would ultimately cause the apocalypse. That Shêner, one of the few survivors, wanted to prevent or avert. He was determined to influence key actors and events to change the course of history.

In the present he came from, the very idea of interfering with history was challenging, as he knew that the threads of destiny extended throughout the Calima galaxy, and the slightest knot in one or two of them could disrupt the fates of entire lives and worlds. However, he was resolute in fulfilling his mission, the one that was already written and recorded in the documents he used to consult, but in the past he had arrived in, they were yet to be written.

So there stood Shêner Kahartan, a simple scribe and priest of the Drüd Order, compelled by circumstances to become a warrior. He stood atop a mound, holding his staff firmly with a sword ready in its sheath, while his eyes scanned the horizon. From there, repeatedly, Shêner would journey into Ánonsor, knowing that time travel would provide him with unforeseen allies and formidable enemies. From such a privileged vantage point, over and over, Shêner would focus his gaze on the nascent Ánonsor, a land that, at the time of his repeated visits, had not yet been shaped by the events that were yet to come, a relatively young realm but whose history was marked by the tyranny of the dominant Empire of Sharivar.

Shêner's willingness to face significant challenges, putting his special abilities, willpower, and bravery to the test over and over, as well as the sacrifices he was ready to make, even at the cost of his own life, didn't deter him or diminish his determination to alter the fates of his planet and others involved, all while unmasking an ancient and obscure force. The transformation and survival of Su'ur were worth it. To keep a meticulous account of his attempts, efforts, mistakes, and achievements, knowing the necessity of traveling between eras and worlds multiple times, Shêner would compose a kind of log that, in the end, a portion of it, lost, would constitute what scholars would come to know as the "Shenfú Manuscript."