It was night. The full moon, a round and immortal star, reigned in a sky filled with sparkles, revealing an unchanging beauty, and yet seen from these inaccessible heights, strangely sinister. The compact mist took on a terrifying and mysterious aspect under the light of the moon, and the nocturnal creatures invaded the dark and forbidden realm, howling with terror, roaring in the vast and deep forest, covering almost the entire territory of Stanys, the so-called forbidden mountain. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, and they all fought with terrifying savagery for their survival. An imposing edifice, located in the middle of these fearsome lands, perfectly hidden from the invisible black peaks, was illuminated by stellar reflections and countless menacing artificial lighting.

In the heavy and dark sky, a whole cloud of flying creatures appeared, hunting in groups and savagely sharing each captured prey. One of them suddenly broke away from the reaper gang, and with suspicious eagerness, swooped down on a large animal with bulging eyes and a gray stained body, and caught it easily. When the beast, with its prey clutched in its cruel claws, joined its companions, they fought over the animal and reduced it miserably to pieces. But after swallowing its fatty flesh with relish, another beast, of colossal size, appeared just behind them and caught almost the whole swarm in its voracious maw before landing heavily on the ground, and chewing its catch with visible satisfaction, drooling over a few scraps of flesh and bone. Its sharp teeth glistened in the night. Then, licking its lips pleasantly, the beast quietly joined its other companions, who also showed the image of having been fully satisfied with their hunt. The bloodthirsty beasts moved in the darkness, their only realm, faithfully guarding the squalid refuge founded by an ancient magician who loved cursed stories.

But the domain was now ruled by a new and equally feared black magician, who that night was looking forward to a deadly and dastardly game of his own.

Great shifting shadows crossed the surrounding courtyards, devouring every creature they encountered in their path, and spilling their blood everywhere. They scaled the thick walls of the building to rush through the lighted French windows and into them. The visible lights that pierced the darkness were extinguished as they passed. Shadows ran down long, wide corridors lit by magic lamps and crystal chandeliers, all breaking in the wake of the waves of shadows. They approached an imposing door engraved with powerful, indecipherable spells in shifting black letters. The dark mass stopped for a fraction of a second before opening it and invading the entire room.

Two guardians - an old mage and a very young one - emerged from the thick pond of shadows before bowing to a man sitting in a stately chair, wearing a long gray tunic embroidered with silver threads. Ironically, the wizard's servants themselves wore beautiful ash-white uniforms with silver metallic outlines that also carried spells as fearsome as they were dark. The old servant, whose name was Köel, had long, straight white hair and various markings on his giant body. What set him apart from the others was his eyes, one of which was closed with a powerful spell to protect it and keep it in good condition, for it was said that it was able to see everything that was totally invisible and unknown to others. The younger, who bore his name well - Johes, which in the ancient language meant the offspring of slaves, had short, curly, dark brown hair and a thin face, openly sadistic, most unstable character and hated the light. He was an awful beast who would stop at nothing to contemplate the deep suffering of the people.

Sirkol looked at him with irony and amusement, having felt his blatant enjoyment of devouring nocturnal beasts and all sparks of light during his insane crossings.

"We are here, master," the wily Köel announced respectfully.

Sirkol nonchalantly turned his wine glass, gazing at the red liquid illuminated by the dim starlight with a kind of perverse fascination, before drinking it with his eyes closed.

"Master?" the old wizard insisted, without getting an answer.

Finally, the director decided to answer.

"I heard Köel."

He took a deep breath, but continued on an entirely different subject.

"Do you know my dear servants that I have always loved this kind of drink? So much so that I drink them every day and in every flavor. And yet, strangely, they have never quenched my thirst, not once. I even feel, with each passing day, a growing and intolerable dissatisfaction, which eats away at my spirit, and which is only extinguished when the full moon shines, perfect in the perennial night of Stanys. What a pleasure it is to live through this short period and all that it represents."

Then his expression changed and became as cold and rigid as ice.

"But I was almost impatient to wait for you. And you know perfectly well that's one of the things I can't tolerate, don't you? ".

"Yes, we know that, master. We apologize for the inconvenience." the two servants declared, bowing again.

"It's good that you understand. After all, I never repeat a warning a second time."

Though shuddering under the explicit threat of those terribly articulate words, the two guardians were equally excited and delighted. For like their master, they loved evil, and especially Köel, despite appearances. For unlike his young partner, he was frighteningly calm, more mysterious and devious, hiding behind impassivity his greedy and devious nature. In a way, he was even more inscrutable and indispensable than his director in the immense and complex machinery of the dark world. For if one considered things correctly, Sirkol, despite his impeccable qualities as a man of the world, his remarkable intelligence and his irrefutable ability to lead, was at heart and above all a cruel, heartless and totally bloodthirsty being, even to the detriment of all his pleasure in making others suffer. Köel, on the other hand, with his keen sense of observation and his well-hidden ambitions, knew how to evolve in the shadows, to adopt any profile and to accomplish any mission, which is why he had always, since his youth, occupied positions of high responsibility in any organization he joined, except that of leader. No, this position at the top never attracted him because it required a place in the sun, which he could not bear. The gaze of others and their judgments. He was an observer, not an observed.

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"All set?"

"Perfectly, master," Johes replied, his face expressing an unhealthy pleasure of anticipation. "We apologize again for our delay. But you would be pleased to know that they are all hungry, hungry to the point of insanity, and eager to eat anything as long as it looks like fresh meat. You will be very happy to see this for yourself during the "show".

Sirkol smiled pleasantly but cruelly at this satisfying news.

"Like you said, it's perfect then."

Sirkol stood up, still holding his empty glass in his sharp-nailed hand, as he admired his office, whose walls and floor were covered with two-tone marble and granite, black and virido. It was a large room, where an entire wall was occupied by a shelf filled with thick books whose contents concerned everything that had to be known about the field of black magic, or various other subjects related to the dark worlds. A huge bay window offered a breathtaking view of the terrible and timeless forest of Stanys. And another wall was entirely occupied by a huge life map, representing all the children of the shelter.

It was a large animated painting reflecting all shades of blue, on which glittering golden dots shone, signifying the young lives trapped in the cursed city. Each radiant dot differed in its mass of light as well as its size, as the quality of strength and magic differed for each child. And one point in particular, representing a young child locked in a dark room, was extraordinarily bright, brighter than all the others combined. So bright that Johes, when he saw it again, immediately lost patience and reached out to the blazing source to send a powerful wave of darkness crashing down on it. The point wavered under the young Johes' sinister attack, and everyone in the room could feel the pain the child felt as the dark waves assaulted him. But the dot soon pushed back and overcame the onslaught of cruel magic that had fallen upon it, and soon regained all of its stubborn, dazzling light. The young black mage groaned in frustration as Sirkol mercilessly mocked the failure of his young, hateful guardian.

"How pathetic, Johes. But it's time for you to understand that there are things in this world that you can never defeat, let alone extinguish."

Johes shrugged his shoulders and became angry.

"The light has never been a necessity, my master. It is only a world of false hope created by the weak."

Sirkol raised his eyebrows and turned to his young servant.

"I notice you still like to turn out the light, Johes, or more intensely than usual. More than passion, it's an obsession for you, the driving force of your existence. But we both know it wasn't the light that beat you a minute ago, right? ".

Johes shook his head, exasperated.

"That being, which all can't help but call a prodigy, is made for the light."

"For this rather, I wonder. But what is certain is that he ignores it and will always ignore it. So what's the big deal? "

"The only problem is that he hasn't been turned off yet. " the young servant shouted bluntly, foaming with rage. "And that he is what he is! That's why he must die. This very night. Because he will never understand the darkness. Even his coming here to Athok is shrouded in mystery." he added spitting resentfully, his eyes burning with hatred, jealous of all those who were gifted with extraordinary like the young prodigy he had just attacked though without much effect, and whom he seemed to hate and envy more than the others.

"None of us will probably ever know how he got to the black doors of the building, or more precisely the identity of the deceitful and talented person who put him there. But if this foul stranger is anything like this abominable child, then he too would deserve to be punished."

"How cruel and cowardly you are, Johes!" Exclaimed the black magician with a significant gesture, falsely horrified, even though he hid it as best he could, everyone, his servants and Stanys fellow men, knew that he was the most affected by his failure to sense the presence of the child carrier. "You are trying to get rid of in another way what you have been unable to destroy on your own."

"You are the one who condemned him!" the servant protested angrily, deeply offended.

"Oh, that's right." Sirkol admitted with a casual nod. "I only decided to take care of something you'll never have the strength to do yourself," he added, absentmindedly playing with his glass before smashing it to dust. "Anyway, you're as weak as a radiant little bird, Johes. So, to console you for your countless failures, I'll let you rejoice in the fall of your invincible enemy."

The young servant clenched his fists to the point of tearing skin, burning with murderous rage.

"I will do it. I will watch him suffer and die without missing a moment of that unforgettable sight, the one whose existence I cannot bear."

Sirkol approached the bay window and gazed out at the night landscape, a vast world of darkness, populated by terrible beings. Their glittering eyes and bodies moved through the black mass of misty veils.

The round moon and its invulnerable rays illuminated with its opaline brightness this banished kingdom. Sirkol saw his face and body reflected through the bewitched glass of the bay window, his gray hair combed back, falling over his shoulders. His amber eyes clearly showed his undying adoration for all that the light hated. But the most fascinating and frightening thing about him was his large body, whose color was perpetually split between black and white, and covered with symbols as ugly as they were deep, representing a powerful shield of harm that protected him from any external attack.

"You may leave now. Go prepare our little prodigy for the feast, and don't forget to take his faithful friend with him. If he really must perish, at least let him not be alone. After all, we are responsible for a children's shelter. We must look after the welfare of our little charges and give them our best."

"Very well, master," Köel replied, steadily putting on an unreadable face.

The two guardians bowed deeply to the wizard before descending into the sea of shadows and leaving the room with a deafening roar. Sirkol continued to gaze out the window at the night, then turned back to the map of life, gazing at the glimmer of life from a boy whose exception was unacceptable. Then he smiled cruelly.

"Ah, what a beautiful night. A wonderful night to kill the child king."