Spring had arrived in the city, and with it, a breath of life. The cold that had numbed bones and hearts during the long winter was dissolving under the warm breath of the new season. Flowers were waking from their slumber and dotting the grey of the streets and buildings with color. The days were lengthening, filled with light and hope, inviting people to leave their homes and enjoy the pleasures that life offered them.

This natural metamorphosis was an omen of the changing seasons, a beauty that whispered secrets of change and transformation in every leaf that danced with the breeze. The atmosphere was infused with a magical sensation, as if the city was about to awaken from a long slumber and reveal its true face.

But it was not all hustle and joy.

There was a place where silence and peace reigned, where time seemed to stop and the outside world became distant and insignificant. It was the Imperial Garden of the Outer City, an oasis of calm and beauty amidst the chaos and noise of the metropolis.

There, the imperial public works, the fruit of the art and wisdom of generations of rulers, stood as testimonials to the glory and power of the empire. They were true gems, guarded and protected by the Three-Legged Frog Guards, whose loyalty and discipline were legendary.

No one dared to desecrate the integrity of these works, for they knew that they were sacred, and that any damage or deterioration to them would be considered an offense to the imperial court and a sign of incompetence. Therefore, they were given exquisite care and attention, so they would maintain their splendor and majesty.

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To preserve tranquility, within the confines of the Imperial Garden, the entrance of beggars, drunks, or addicts to the Dream of Baku was not allowed. It was a place of serenity and contemplation, where the grandeur of the empire manifested in every detail, from the sculptures and meticulously designed gardens to the meandering waterways that reflected the majesty of imperial architecture.

Ritsu was seated on one of the sturdy wooden benches that adorned the surroundings of a small lake. His attention was fixed on a particularly intriguing heron. It was a creature that visited the garden every evening. It always positioned itself in the shallowest part of the lake where it remained still as a statue. It stayed in absolute silence for several minutes, as if it were part of the same nature that surrounded it.

And then, the dance of life and death would unfold.

In an instant, the heron would strike suddenly, catching some unfortunate creature that had dared to move under the waters with its beak. The victim would twist in vain, struggling for its life, while the bird prepared to take flight. Afterward, it would leave as stealthily as it had arrived, vanishing into the twilight of the evening.

Witnessing this ritual had become a comforting habit for him. The heron’s ability to hunt with precision and its elegant skill in flight fascinated him. But what captivated him the most was the unique mark that distinguished this bird from the others.

In the center of its immaculate white wings was a sizeable black spot.

What was the origin of this peculiarity?

He did not know, but he was sure that it made this heron truly unique among its kind.

It was a mystery embodied in the form of a bird.

Ritsu watched as the heron flew away in its silent flight. The calmness of the moment had had a soothing effect on him. The following day would mark an important milestone in his life: the presentation of the long-awaited imperial examination. Despite the words of confidence, he had shared with his master and his aunt, anxiety continued to throb within him.

However, now, at least, he felt a little more at peace with himself.