The Tricks
of Pouchy
Just as the Fire appears, Heino attacks.
The battle is won — but the moment
of the miracle has passed. Darkness falls.
And yet, this is not the end.
“Hm, one day I’ll have to teach him to call me ‘master,’” muttered Heino, then tossed a new command to the spiders. They grabbed Anne and dragged her toward the fire.
“And now comes the final scene of this story,” he went on, his eyes glowing with joy. “A happy ending — the main character dies. Or rather, is turned into a monster who will serve old Heino. Just like everyone else in this forest. Executioner, do your duty!”
“Stop!” screamed a small voice — and right under Heino’s nose appeared Pouchy, armed with two pistols aimed straight at the beaver’s fat belly. Apparently, she hadn’t been caught in the net like the others and had been hiding in the dark all along. “Make one move and you’re dead! Hands up — and don’t you dare say a word!”
Heino gaped in shock, but quickly raised his hands.
“Now untie her!” Pouchy barked at the spiders. “Quickly — or I’ll put a hole in your boss’s gut.”
The spiders hesitated and looked uncertainly toward Heino.
“What are you waiting for? Do as she says!” roared the beaver. “Quickly, quickly!”
In a flash, Anne was free. Then the ghosts followed, then the eagles…
“Now the others!” Pouchy shouted. “Move it — we don’t have much time!”
But just then, something unexpected happened. One of the spiders spoke up hesitantly:
“Boss, something’s not right. I’ve never seen transparent pistols before. What do you say?”
Reflections on the scene
⸻ ❦ ⸻
– ❦ –
It’s almost a happy ending — but only almost. Just when Anne and her friends seem to have won, the unthinkable happens. The Fire of Eternal Change goes out. Their chance is lost.
This scene is a masterclass in tonal layering. At first, it’s pure comedy: Pouchy barges in like a spaghetti-western outlaw, threatening Heino with plastic water pistols. She saves the day — temporarily. Then comes the fight, the chaos, the desperate urgency. And finally, silence. A stillness more crushing than any battle.
What makes this moment so devastating is that no villain wins. Heino flees. His army collapses. The field is theirs. But the one thing that mattered — the transformation of the ghosts back into toys — slips through their fingers. And there’s no second chance.
It’s a scene about time. About the one moment that matters, and how easily it can be missed. It’s not evil that ruins their plan. It’s confusion, distraction, delay.
The philosophical undertone is clear: sometimes, in life, the greatest failures are not defeats by others, but moments where we fail ourselves.
Even the Fire — ancient, magical, demiurgic — is not beyond the reach of missed timing.