Hi! I'm a spanish writer who love Secret circle and I think continued the suspensed series. The history is originally written in spanish, and if you want read this, you can do it here: . /
Please, if you find spelling errors or anything to or something to improve, tell me! I'm improving the language.
*Thanks to Ahriel for helping me with the translate*
Singular. Perhaps that was the most appropiate term with everything related to Royce. However, the perception that the elder had about the reality was more than singular. Like any human, the life stages and events experienced in them, had been marked in such a way that had defined him. Like many elderly, Royce had learned to love the solitude, or at least to live in it. But Royce was not like "many elders," Royce was an elder. The grandfather of a circle of witches, and therefore a witch too. His life seemed to be too influenced by a cruel fate that had led him to be surrounded by the death of his loved ones. First, although he tried to keep buried this memory, the death of his wife. Years later joining excruciating pain, his only son and his wife. And last, although he had received the piece of news a few days ago, his grandson Nick.
That's why insecurity was his inseparable mate in the boat of life, and it was another reason for protecting his home under six locks. Royce knew that that wasn't coherent for the rest of the world. But neither were many other things he did, for example, fill his house's wall with papers.
He took one of his old wooden chairs and sat in the center of the room. All his time, that wasn't little, was spent in theorizing. That filled the walls, more and more theories that hide the minimum wall space. Not even the elder remembered what color they had been. With many of them was successful, like figuring out the intentions of Blackwell about creating a circle made only Balcoin magic. Others were waiting to be fulfilled, as the next arrival of the four dark sorcerers to Chance Harbor.
A strange noise coming from the outside quickly put him on alert and he suddenlyand he suddenly stood up. He ran to the window and looked through it. He exhaled with relief, fogging the glass, to discover that it only was the wind.
A bit more relaxed he allowed himself the luxury of observing the landscape. Even with the beautiful display Of the nature it was terrifying. That night the wind seemed angry. It was blowing so hard that the elder couldn't prevent be surprised to see how many of seeing that the trees were almost touching the ground.
Also small objects, accompanied by dust and similars, were floating in the air.
Royce was one of the few people who knew the identity of the wind. He knew that the wind was a messenger, the only one capable of hiding a message between blows. Only available to who bothered to listen to it. He pay attention for a few minutes. Then, after turning his face into the most worried gesture of the universe, he could only pray of the package to had reached his grandson and for him to knew how to use what it contained. The four witches had begun to leave their footprints in Chance Harbor.