With a cheerful step,

He went to see his brother.

‘Ruh, we've won,

We prepare for war!

- O Habib. Have you taken hostage

All our brothers and sisters?

Only for me, who's getting on in years?

Are you so devoid of reason and fear?

- No, I'm doing this for you and Lea.

Aaah, yes, surely this world will hear my wrath.’

The village rushes forward in good faith.

Going every which way spreading their waves,

Motivation, the blacksmith prepares many weapons,

Determination, the youngsters train for battle,

The grooms are in a delicate situation,

Who look after the few horses leaving tears,

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Of joy, for their situation would change from below.

‘What a horrible, merciless brother.’

Ruh said as he stood against the wall facing the window.

Head against glass, staring at him from the reflection.

‘Do you want the stress to penetrate my marrow?

- I'm acting for our dignity and honour...

- I won't last more than 2 months.’

Neither the scouts,

Nor the hunters,

And least of all the persecutors,

could hear the virulence of the arrow that had just pierced Habib's heart.

‘And you come to me saying you're leaving to fight. I will be dead when you return. And I certainly don't want to die alone.

- But the doctors have been treating you...!

No, no, it's something else that's taking you to your threshold...

These people will have taken advantage of you to the last drop.

May every drop of your blood have made them drunk!

Yes, yes! I won't just silence their pride!

I'll abuse them beyond the shadow of a doubt!’

Habib collapses on the bed.

He sighs and tires.

After many minutes,

he pulls out a card.

‘Before you leave,

I will have taken all of Tarshkila.

This map was in Léandre's belongings.

- So you only see me as a countdown timer,’ said Ruh as he slid

along the window wearily.