Sirius turned the key in the lock carved into the stone. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then the key disappeared before their eyes, and bright golden lines, outlined on the rock face surface and flew until joining together to take the shape of a door frame. Sirius placed a hand on the smooth surface, and his hand sank to his wrist. He felt the cool air tickle his fingers on the other side.
"I see...It's the same as accessing platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross train station. All we have to do is walk through, just like this..." Sirius said.
He took a confident step forward and crossed to the other side. From the unobstructed view of the area before his eyes, he concluded that he was standing at the top of the reserve's highest point. On either side and towards a distant horizon of which his eyes could only discern grey shapes, green mountain ranges, from which rivers flowed, followed one another, delimiting what must have been the reserve's borders. In the middle of a plain, there were farms and houses grouped around a larger building in front of a central square, the whole forming a village displaying a welcoming appearance. Red appeared to the right of Sirius, and then Joan arrived too.
"I take it that is the village Ludovik told us about?" Red asked.
"Yes, if we hurry, we'll be there before dark," Sirius replied.
"I may be wrong, it's quite fair, but do you guys also get the impression that everything in that village is made of stone from where we stand? Even the roofs of the houses." Joan asked.
"No... That's what I was thinking too..." Red said.
"Probably, Flagstone... After all, stone doesn't burn." Sirius said.
"Obviously... Imagine if a dragon escaped, the houses would be made of wood, the whole village would burn!" Joan said.
They walked down the mountain and headed for the village. Unlike the rest of the journey, the walk was easy. Three hours later, the sun was no longer high in the sky, burning their necks, and after crossing a bridge, they took a break.
"Don't you find it strange?" Red asked.
"What?" Joan asked.
"We didn't pass anyone! Not even a glimpse of a dragon flying in the sky, or a sound, except for the birds singing..." Red said.
"You want to run into a dragon?" Sirius asked.
"That's not what I said! It's just that I was expecting a more boisterous vibe!" Red said.
"Put it this way, so was I..." Joan said.
"You didn't believe Ludovik when he said we could get eaten by a dragon before we got to the village?! did you?" Sirius said, laughing.
"I did," Red said.
"Me too," Joan said.
"The reserve is huge, and that rock was the entrance for visitors! You can imagine that they weren't going to put such dangerous beasts so close to the entrance and the village where they live with their families!" Sirius said as he stretched in the grass. "I could use a little nap in the grass."
"I had a feeling that wasn't true...Well, I'm going to take a leak, and I'll be right back." Red said as he walked away, toward a bunch of threes.
Joan waited until Red was far enough away so he couldn't hear him lean over onto Sirius.
"Piss off Joan; you're blocking the sun..." Sirius scolded him.
"I want to talk to you about something before Red gets back," Joan said.
"What do you want to tell me?" Sirius asked.
"The guy we met this morning at breakfast at the inn..." Joan said.
"Quirrell?" Sirius asked.
"Yes...What the hell is he doing here?" Joan asked.
"Here? Nothing. He said he was going to Albania to look for Vampires." Sirius said.
"And you believe him? Didn't you hear what he said? He was in Ravenclaw, he had access to the restricted area of Hogwarts library, and he was looking for Vampires. Connect the dots!" Joan said.
"You think he found something about Ravenclaw's tomb at Hogwarts that has something to do with a Vampire, and he came all the way here to look for its location? Am I right?" Sirius asked.
"It seems obvious to me! Why else would he be here?" Joan asked.
"Pure coincidence," Sirius said.
"Are you kidding me?" Joan asked.
"Listen to me...you overthink yourself. You see, now that you know what's under that Castle, every time you hear about Vampires or Hogwarts, your brain will start making up stories until you become completely insane. So take a break!" Sirius said.
"You can't deny the connection between each element! You told me that the next step of my research should take me to Hogwarts," Joan said.
"Yes. To Hogwarts, not to Hogwarts library. Look... You are after some real deal, what your grandfather and great-grandfather went through, is quite solid!" Sirius said.
"Thanks for reminding me..." Joan said.
"I really doubt that this is the kind of information one can easily find in a library, even in the restricted area. Over 1500 years, many generations of incredibly brilliant wizards and witches have laid their asses in that library, such as Merlin! Many of them wrote those fucking books, so somebody would eventually have found something. To be honest, when I said you should go to Hogwarts, I had no clue. I have no idea why my family crest has anything to do with that stele your family studied or why the entrance to the tomb reacted to my blood." Sirius said. "It just makes sense to me to look around Hogwarts."
"Do you hear yourself? You are contradicting yourself! One moment you say you doubt there is any information at Hogwarts, and the next, you say it would make sense to go look there! Make up your mind!" Joan said.
"The knowledge at Hogwarts can't be reduced to what is in a damn Library, Joan! Hogwarts is a massive display of magical engineering; no stone is settled randomly! Secret rooms, riddles, paintings whose owners have shaped the history of our world, and the list goes on and on... My friends and I have explored Hogwarts for nights on end. What we learned is that you must deal with the Castle the same way you'll do with a living being. I don't know if you'll find anything there, maybe you'll find nothing or more than you would hope. However, the effort put into hiding Ravenclaw's tomb and the fact that there isn't a single manuscript that survived the century Hogwarts was founded, makes me believe that there is a clue in the school, and I strongly doubt anyone, could find it. ." Sirius said.
"I don't understand.." Joan says.
"What I'm trying to say is that there is a high probability that something is there, but to find it, you'll have to rely on luck, the same way we found that Tomb, we were looking for something else when we found it…Maybe it's going to find you somehow." Sirius said.
"That could take years..." Joan said.
"I know...Anyway, if it can help you, Quirrell didn't lie." Sirius said as he stood up.
"How can you be sure?" Joan asked.
"Because I've seen it...He's looking for fame, glory, wealth, power and especially women...He has no idea where he's going, and he only talked about looking for vampires to try to impress me. Anyway, the Castle is sealed; only I can find it." Sirius said.
"You've seen him? Where?" Joan asked.
"In his head, of course!" Sirius said, ending the conversation as Red returned, zipping up his pants.
"What were you guys talking about?" Red asked as he looked at them.
"Joan is facing a rather annoying dilemma... He asked me if it was culturally acceptable, like when girls hold their friend's hair while they vomit, to hold a friend's dick while he was taking a leak." Sirius said, walking away.
"WHAT?! I NEVER SAID THAT!" Joan screamed, his face red.
After a brief scuffle and Joan bitterly regretted having attacked Sirius in the back, they set off again towards the village. The sun had already dropped when they set foot on the first cobblestone streets of the town, lights were beginning to turn on inside the houses, and women's voices were heard everywhere calling their children to return home. They were surprised to notice that different sounds were coming to their ears, indicating that the reserve people were coming from all corners of the world.
They finally arrived at a square where a large fountain was carved in the shape of a dragon standing on a rock, its mouth open wild as if it was spitting fire, only it was water, filling a pool at its foot. They walked around it and finally came to the large stone building they had seen in the distance earlier in the day.
"This must be the village hall, or at least the place where we can find the director," Sirius said.
"I almost forgot...It reappeared after I crossed. "Joan said, giving Sirius the small silver key, they had used to open the passageway leading to the reserve.
"Thanks, I had completely forgotten about it…Okay, Let's go in!" Sirius said.
They climbed the stairs and knocked on the big door and waited for someone to come and open the door for them, but after waiting for several minutes, no one had shown up, and no sound coming from inside indicated any sign of life on the other side of that door.
"What should we do? It doesn't look like there's anyone inside." Joan asked.
"Should we blast the door?" Red asked, pulling out his wand.
"Put it away, you idiot! Why would you do that?! There are lights on in the houses...I guess everyone must already be back home. Wait for me here in case someone comes shows up." Sirius said, putting down his backpack.
"Where are you going?" Joan asked.
"To the nearest house and find out where to find the director," Sirius said as he began to walk down the stone steps.
He left them behind, crossed the large village square and headed for a nearby house. The temperature had dropped, and he began to regret not having thought about taking a jacket from his bag before leaving. But it was not the cold sliding under his shirt that made him shiver but the smell, a smell of sweat. He quickly plunged his hand into his pocket to fetch for his wand, but immediately someone behind him grabbed his right wrist and felt what could only be the pointed end of a wand pressed against his temple. Then a woman's voice threatened him even though the language was incomprehensible to his ears.
"One move, and I'll break your arm."
"Can you hurt me in English, please?" Sirius asked.
"Don't move, or I'll break your arm."
"Break my arm? Really? Just for walking down the street?" Sirius asked with a chuckle before it turned into a grunt of pain when his wrist twisted, and he received a kick on the bottom of his knee that made him drop it forcefully to the ground.
" Identify yourself! How did you get past the wards?" She asked again, twisting his arm even more.
"My name is Sirius Black! I have an invitation letter and the key!" Sirius managed to say between two grunts of pain. "Look in my back pocket but let go of me; I can't breathe."
He felt a slender hand reach into his back pocket and rest on the folded letter before catching his breath, his arm having been freed. He remained on his knees on the ground, massaging his arm. Then, finally, he got up and turned to face the woman who had unfolded the letter and read it. She finally tore off the paper, tucked her long blonde hair behind her, looking at him sternly.
"You're late, Mr Black; we've been waiting for you for two days. Follow me." She ordered him, turning on her heels.
"I'm sorry for the delay; I didn't think you were waiting for us..." Sirius said as he followed her. "What is your name?"
She ignored him and continued to walk hurriedly through the square, toward the building where Joan and Red were playing rock-paper-scissors from the top of the steps while waiting for Sirius to return. They passed the dragon fountain and next to it while they were better lit, and for the first time, Sirius could see the appearance of the woman he was walking behind. She was dressed strangely, in a kind of black skin suit that seemed to be made of leather, perhaps even dragon leather, like those worn by Muggle motorcycle racers. Around her thigh, she wore a holster where her wand was tucked. A good idea: he would get one for himself later. She stopped without warning in front the stone steps, and Sirius was two seconds away from running into her.
"Who are those morons?" She asked Sirius curtly, loud enough to be heard by them.
"Who are you calling morons?" Joan asked, running down the steps with his wand in his hand.
"Calm down!" Sirius said as he stepped between the two. "Joan, put your wand away! And you, you are being ridiculous! I apologize for being late; I showed you our invitation; if the director isn't available, point us to an inn or a place where we can camp safely, and we'll come back in the morning. Okay?" Sirius said as he turned back to the woman, her blue eyes looking coldly at Joan.
At that moment, a cracking noise sounded near them, and a well-built, wide-shouldered, grey-haired man, wearing a dark suit similar to the one worn by the blonde woman, appeared. He stopped abruptly, looking at Joan with her wand raised, the woman with her hands on her hips, and Sirius between them, his arms stretched toward each side to keep Joan and the woman from jumping on each other. He sighed and walked over to them, holding out his hand to Sirius, his face covered with small scars and a benevolent smile. He shook hands with Sirius and Joan, then with Red, who had come down to join them.
"Good evening, gentlemen and welcome among us!" Said the man. "My name is Dragan Savchenko; I am the director of the reserve; nice to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you too sir, I am Sirius Black, and these are Joan Zoega and Red Russel," Sirius said to the director.
"Thank you for giving a positive response to my request Mr Director!" Red said.
"Please call me Dragan! Let's not stay outside; it's getting cold...We will be better settled in my office." He said.
"Did you find anything? Any news?" The woman asked, her voice betraying some concern, despite the confidence she wanted to display.
"No, nothing new, but the necessary is being done." Dragan said, placing his right hand on her shoulder." Why don't you come inside with us?"
"My ass!" she replied, removing his hand before heading back to the main square, her long hair dancing behind her.
"You better go straight home! I'm warning you!" He shouted at her. She waved passively a hand before disappearing.
The director sighed and invited them to follow him into the building. They climbed the steps behind him, he waved his wand horizontally, tracing a line on the large stone door, and it slid open. They entered the building and were surprised that the interior was particularly warm when the exterior was insipid. Everything was made of wood, the walls, the furniture, the stairs... Tapestries and paintings were hung everywhere, and large rugs covered the floor.
"Follow me, my office is on the top floor... This building was once a castle used by the Muggle nobility during their hunting parties until it fell into the hands of one of the reserve's founders. He preferred to put it at the disposal of the reserve than using it for himself. The village was built up over time but grew considerably when Romania joined the international wizarding confederation. In normal times, it's pretty rowdy around here, but right now, everyone's already at home." Dragan said as he took the stairs.
"Dragan, feel free to let us know if you'd prefer us to come back tomorrow...You look like you had a long day," Red said.
"Don't worry, I had to come by my office again anyway. And unfortunately, I won't be available tomorrow morning..." Dragan said.
"Will you be out of town?" Joan asked.
"Yes, something unexpected came along...But I'll be back in the evening, at the latest." Dragan replied.
A few floors later, they arrived at the director's office. Dragan sat down at his desk and lit a fire in the fireplace. Three armchairs appeared behind Sirius, Joan and Red, and they sat down, facing Dragan, whose armchair was shaped like a dragon's body, wings clustered to the director's arms comfort.
"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" Dragan said to the three men sitting before him.
"I'll remind you that you are in business with Red; Sirius and I are only here as moral support," Joan said.
"Oh, sure!" Dragan said, opening a drawer in his desk, from which he pulled out a roll of parchment and unrolled it. "Dragon heartstring, is that right?"
"Exactly, Ludovik Balasko told me that you could provide us with some," Red said.
"Yes... As promised, you will get some! Let's talk about what we need from you." Dragan asked.
"What can I do for you?" Red asked.
"Ludovik suggested that you are an expert in chams, particularly good at designing wards and precision work," Dragan said.
"Yes, Indeed, that is very much within my capabilities. What would you need from me exactly?" Red asked.
"Recently, the person in charge of the maintenance of the wards set up around the enclosures and the areas where the dragons fly freely retired...The person we hired to replace him backed out at the last moment, and we're having trouble recruiting one...We need someone to do the job until we can find someone." Dragan said.
"No need to say more! I'm your man!" Red said.
"Are you sure?" Dragan asked.
"It's going to be complicated, but I can handle it! So let's take a walk tomorrow morning, show me around, and I'll get to work." Red said.
"Perfect! What about you? Have you come to assist him?" Dragan asked Sirius and Joan.
"Well...We just came to sightsee and keep him company...But if we can be of any help to you while we're here, please don't mind asking." Joan said.
"Perfect...The amount of work is quite high here, and help is always welcome, but don't worry, you won't have to be close to any dragon...But if you do, I would ask you to be very careful, please." Dragan said.
"We thought we'd see them as soon as we got to the reserve, but I guess you have a way to keep them out of the village.
"The village and its surroundings are protected, of course! Imagine the horror if a child was attacked… But they can fly over the sky without being able to descend below a certain altitude, but we still try to guarantee the maximum freedom in their movement." Dragan said.
"Very interesting...I think I'll go with you tomorrow...Sirius, you haven't said a word in a while...Normally you never shut up...Are you still thinking about the pretty girl from earlier?" Joan asked.
"Dragan... You might think I'm a little bit paranoid, but I have a feeling that something is not right." Sirius said.
"Why is that? I have the impression that our first meeting went well... " Dragan asked, puzzled.
"Well...As you said earlier, it's not even dinnertime, yet the streets are empty, the shops are already closed...And, personally, my first contact with one of you employees didn't really go smoothly." Sirius said. "So... What's going on?"
Dragan's eyes landed on Sirius' reddened wrist; he sighed and leaned back on the back of his chair.
"I see...did she hurt you?" Dragan asked.
"No... it's just that I was expecting a slightly different greeting," Sirius said.
"Anyway, I apologize...You are not paranoid...On the contrary, you are very observant. You should know that the entire reserve is on high alert and that a curfew has been established from sunset until dawn. We are facing an unprecedented and highly delicate situation, so she probably thought she was doing the right thing... " Dragan said.
"What happened?" Red asked.
"We lost contact with one of our teams out on a mission outside the reserve. As we speak, three of our men and a child are missing." Dragan said.
"What kind of mission?" Joan asked.
"They were supposed to escort a young male dragon to the reserve... They should have arrived this morning as this kind of mission is best done at night... So we spent the day looking for them, and we found this near Uman in Ukraine." he said, placing a bloodstained jacket from their uniform on his desk.
"It belongs to the child..." Dragan said, his voice low.
It was already very late at night. Outside the hotel room that had been booked by the office for the purposes of the investigation, not a sound could be heard, especially since the truckers had finished parking their large cargo trucks to spend the night in the nearby gas station's parking lot. Only Kingsley was still awake. Sitting in front of the small desk, a cup of black coffee to his left, a small television set a little further to his right on the table. He was slowly massaging his temples, elbows on the table while studying the list his team had sent him earlier in the day. The muggle police force was running around in circles. No one noticed anything unusual, no one strange, nothing... This list was perhaps the only element that could give them a starting point in this investigation. But, unfortunately, in all of Wales, there were less than two hundred wizards, and of those two hundred, only fifty had completed their education at Hogwarts, and only two had taken the NEWT potions exams, and both had failed... But Kingsley continued to read and reread all the files, his lips articulating every word, looking for a detail or anything that could trigger that little spark that would push, on a whim, any detective to go to the other side of the world to find another clue and so on.
He closed the file he was reading, stretched and yawned loudly in his chair as he rocked back and forth, brought his coffee to his lips and realized he had already emptied it, and that was also the moment his stomach chose to remind him loudly that he hadn't eaten in hours. He got up, took his wallet and his key room and went outside. He was glad to see lights in the gas station that also served as a cafeteria. He went in and pulled the door open before going to the counter, where the bartender was having a conversation with a trucker, who didn't seem to have stuck to the beer that had accompanied his meal.
"I'm telling you! It's because of politics that the country is going to shit! It's the new world order!" Said the Trucker, pounding his fist on the table.
"How did we ever get here! A woman prime minister... What does a woman know about politics? Bloody hell!"
"I've always said one thing! The perfect woman is this high." The Trucker said, putting his hand on his waist. "And she's got a flat head to put a pint on! "He finished with a laugh.
"Good evening. Kingsley said to the barman.
"Oh, I didn't notice you! You're the inspector from London, aren't you?" The bartender asked.
"Yes..." Kingsley said, glancing at the Trucker, who hastily put his drink down on the counter to bend a knee in front of Kingsley.
"Don't mind this clown...What can I do for you?" The bartender asked.
"Is it still possible to order dinner?" Kingsley asked.
"Sorry, the kitchen is closed...But I can make something for you with what I've got here ...Is cheese and ham with bread okay?" The bartender asked.
"That would be great...Thank you." Kingsley said before taking a seat at one of the metal tables in the room.
A few seconds later, the Trucker joined him, hastily, and sat down across the table, placing two beers on the table and uncorking them.
"I'd like to eat alone," Kingsley said.
"I have a message for the queen brave knight of her majesty's police force." The Trucker said.
"Send a letter to Buckingham Palace," Kingsley said.
"When you see her, tell her that less than three hundred people are living in the village. The Trucker said.
"So what?" Kingsley asked, exasperated, crossing his arms.
"Do you think it's right that there are 15-speed cams? They put one in my street when I'm all alone! Almost in the middle of the countryside! As soon as I leave my garage, there's one!" The Trucker said.
"Be careful then," Kingsley said, looking for the bartender.
"Be careful? They have limited the speed to 20 km/h; I get tickets when I ride my bicycle! The police came knocking in my door with a picture of me, riding a fucking bike!" The Trucker said.
"A picture?" Kingsley asked.
"They harass ME, while at the same time a man gets gutted and embedded in the top of a cliff! Is that justice? Is that what we pay taxes for?" The Trucker asked.
"How do you know that? How do you know how he was found?" Kingsley asked.
"The cops told me! Who else? You know I'm buddies with them, all except the Indian guy...He's not my friend." The Trucker said.
"Can I ask why?" Kingsley asked as he took a sip. "I lost ten points on my license because of him! The first time, I was this close to shit myself, so I hit the gas a little too hard; a second later, I saw his car lights in my rearview mirror...The second time, the motherfucker asked me to take a breathalyzer test just as I pulled into the parking lot! I was already done driving!" The Trucker said.
"And he was right! Otherwise, one day we're going to find you and your truck in the river." The bartender said, putting a plate bearing a large, generously filled sandwich in front of Kingsley, sitting down next to the Trucker.
"Thank you..." Kingsley said before biting into his Sandwich.
"At your service, Detective." The bartender said.
"Before you came in, we were talking about the guy who got raped and skinned..." The Trucker said.
"Don't tell me about it! It ruined my day...The cops came by three times today to ask if I saw or knew anything...I told them a thousand times to check out the university' campus..." The bartender said.
"The university? Why?" Kingsley asked.
"Don't you know? Old Sebastian, a local farmer! A real legend! A man set like a clock, at 10 o'clock he had 10 grams of alcohol in his blood, at 12 o'clock, 12 grams, before the end of the afternoon, if he got hurt, the wound would disinfect itself with all the alcohol he had in his blood, you know..." The Trucker said.
"I see...What does that have to do with the murder?" Kingsley asked.
"A few years ago, he came in here furious; he had found one of his sheep in the meadow, completely drained! The bartender said.
"Empty? Do you mean like the victim? Kingsley asked.
"Yes, and another farmer confirmed it was true." The bartender said
"Did he file a complaint? Did the police arrest anyone?" Kingsley asked.
"He went to the police...But, it went unheeded...They said it was a wolf's work, except there are no wolves in the wild in Wales anymore." The bartender said.
"It's alarming indeed... But what does this have to do with the university exactly?" Kingsley asked.
"Well, for some years now, the university has been buying up the nearby farms to expand and enlarge its facilities...They even built a stadium and an indoor, year-round heated pool for their teams...Only, old Sebastian always refused to sell." The bartender said.
"You think they killed his sheep to scare him?" Kingsley asked.
"Sincerely...I think they did..." The bartender said.
"Does this...does this university teach medicine?" Kingsley asked.
"Yeah... and the stuff for the mentally ill people too..." The bartender said.
"I went to that university!" The Trucker said.
"What are you talking about? You didn't even finish elementary school, you idiot!" The bartender said.
"No... Before, I drove trucks when I worked as a delivery! One day I went there... At the doctors' school... It was disgusting; it made me want to vomit... There were big tubes with dead animals hanging inside in a brown liquid... " The Trucker said.
"Could you tell me where to find that old mans farm? Kingsley asked.
"It will be complicated since it has been demolished, and its owner evicted... A story of unpaid bank loans or something..." The bartender said.
"Where does he live now?" Kingsley asked.
"No idea, the day of the foreclosure, his kids came in, put him and his dog in the backseat of their car and drove off and never came back." The bartender said.
"FUCKING BANKs! THEY'RE GOING TO FUCK ALL! BUT THEY'RE NOT GOING TO FUCK ME! IF THEY WANT TO TAKE MY TRUCK, LET THEM TAKE IT! BUT IT WON'T BE UNTIL I'VE SHIT ON THE SITS AND THE DASH!" the Trucker shouted before jumping up on the table, losing his balance and coming close to fall.
"I'D RATHER BURN DOWN MY GAS STATION! I DON'T CARE!" the bartender shouted too.
"WE'RE GONNA REVOLT! WILLIAM WALLACE!" the Trucker shouted.
"YEAH! HE WAS SCOTTISH, BUT I DON'T CARE!"
"Well...It was a very interesting conversation...Thanks for the beer," Kingsley said, putting down a banknote before getting up to go back to his room, protecting his ears from an orchestra of horns, the shouts in the night having woken up the truckers who were sleeping in their trucks.
Past midnight, Sirius was sitting on the windowsill of the room he had rented at the village inn. The tavern, located on the outskirts of the village, allowed the occupants of the rooms or the customers installed on the Terrace during the day to have a splendid view of the mountains and plains of the region currently dimly lit by the few moonlight that could filter through the clouds that veiled it.
He was exhausted, but paradoxically he could not close his eyes. His mind was focused on the image of the director's office and the bloodstained jacket on it. He had put a lot of effort into disciplining his mind while studying occlumency. However, he couldn't help but feel concerned. He remembered that night when he had slowly opened his eyes, his head buzzing, to find himself tied to a chair in a dungeon beneath Gilles de Reis' mansion. The naked men and women hanging from the ceiling by their ankles, screaming, defenceless as they waited to have their throats slit by Ryan. He thought about what Remus had told him about the torture inflicted on Peter until it finally broke him. In the end, even wrongly, imprisonment was no match for the cruelty that humans could unleash, whether for gain or simply for pleasure.
What had happened to the team of dragonologists? Was it a simple incident during the transit or something much more serious? If he, an outsider, couldn't close his eyes when he thought about it, how bad must the child's parents who accompanied the team be? He looked at the houses in the village. All the lights were out. Was there at least someone to care about him, family waiting with a heavy heart, hoping to see him return unharmed, or were they looking for him right now in the night? A terrible evil roams the world, the kind that shows no mercy to those who were not prepared who could not stand up to it.
That night he sat on the edge of that window until he saw the first rays announcing the dawn.
Hello everyone! thank you very much for reading! Please enjoy and review!
Dialogues in Italic are in another language than English.