Adriel pulls the scarlet fabric away from the entrance to the tent, allowing the imposing golden light to enter and immerse his house in a delicate illumination. He goes through the door and leaves his bags at the side without first observing his surroundings, but Fenrir runs wildly towards him, is unable to brake and knocks everything over, including the two of them.

The wolf is gasping for breath and licking Adriel as if he were a tiny puppy, oblivious to any notion of his size. Arthur notices his friend's arrival and smiles. Adriel smiles too, but with more restraint, and adjusts his eye patch that Fenrir has bent.

— Help me out here, could you buy some more bandages? — the tone of his voice is low.

The wolf's black hairs come out of Adriel's vision, allowing him to see that there is someone lying next to Arthur, apparently a boy about twenty years old. The stranger has short black hair, which contrasts with skin as pale as snow, and is wearing a torn, bloodstained dark overcoat over a black shirt and trousers.

— I will go.

The golden rays of sky reflect in the emerald mirror of Adriel's gaze as he steps through the scarlet cloak that covers the entrance to his tent. A delicate blue covers the sky as if it had been strategically positioned by a skilled artist and shines without a cloud to cover it. Silence reigns and, as Adriel walks alongside the highway towards the centre of Beersheba, the sounds of a city teeming with life emerge, buildings adorn the streets and cars dominate the avenues.

On the way, he meets a Hazael who is half lying down and half sitting on top of an ongoing construction site "resting" because this "long" day of "work" has been "tiring" and a break is nice. They greet each other and Adriel arrives at the market.

There are numerous shops full of goods next to each other with traders advertising their products and customers buying. Adriel's gaze passes quickly through all of them, looking for a specific one that sells medicinal items, he finds it and quickly buys what he should.

On his way out, he almost drops what he's just bought because he's in such a hurry, but he regains his balance easily and returns home.

Adriel approaches the druid, who is so focused on looking after the stranger that he doesn't notice his arrival, and hands him what he's bought without receiving any attention from him, who just finishes making the bandages. Arthur, wishing his patient to rest, moves away from him and signals Adriel to do the same. The vampire leans against a cushion in the left-hand corner of the tent and Arthur, breathing heavily from exhaustion, reclines beside him.

— What happened? — Adriel asks, not forgetting the question that's bothering him.

— I found him almost dead, so I helped him.

— Do you know why he's like this?

— No, he hasn't woken up yet and I found him alone, but I don't think it was an accident.

— I agree, these numerous cuts are made by sharp blades, perhaps knives or daggers, there's no way it wasn't deliberate.

— Knives or daggers... — he says thoughtfully, because he hadn't realised this detail.

— Stay here and look after him, I'm going to work alone today — he makes eye contact with Arthur's lost reality.

— No, you should rest today, the journey has certainly been tiring.

— There's Shabbat for rest, but today is Thursday.

— That doesn't mean you can't rest on other days too.

— I have a lot of responsibilities and I shouldn't neglect them.

— But is it worth it? We're well off financially, you're a successful merchant. There's nothing to lose by resting for a day. In fact, it would be a blessing, after all, what would be the point of a life consisting only of work?

— You seem wiser.

— I've gained a lot of experience over the last few weeks... Does that mean you agree with me? — a smile adorns his lips and his eyes sparkle.

— Fine, I'll stay home today.

A few hours pass, during which time Adriel just prepares a simple snack that he shares with Arthur and they both remain quiet, talking quietly so as not to disturb the stranger. Arthur realises that his patient is waking up and approaches him.

— Feeling better? — the little druid bends down and makes eye contact.

— Could you speak English? I don't understand Hebrew — he asks, knowing that Arthur is British.

— Yes, I could. I asked if you were feeling better.

—I'm fine, it's no big deal with these injuries — he tries to move, but his face twitches in an expression of pain and he just directs his vacant, distant gaze upwards, giving up on getting up.

— You shouldn't try so hard — he approaches gently with the tenderness of a doctor.

— By the way, how did you get hurt so badly? Or rather, why were you stabbed? — interrupts Adriel.

— Oh, it's just that I went against Damon Okeanós.

— What's that? Are you an absconditus? — asks Arthur, wide-eyed.

— Yes, I'm Cerberus.

— How did a Greek manage to enter our territory? — asks Adriel, maintaining his serious, impassive posture.

— I had to escape from the Absconditus kingdom, so I enlisted the help of a Hazael.

— Who was that?

— Sam, and I was supposed to find him. Can you tell me how I can get to him? — and tries to pull himself together, wanting to get up.

— Don't move, your wounds could open up again — these words are unnecessary, Cerberus is incapable of getting up on his own or moving around too much.

— He lives nearby, I can call him if you prefer, it's not good for you to overexert yourself — despite the kind words, his face is as serious as that of a general prepared to tear his enemies apart in the cruelest way ever imagined by mankind.

— Thank you.

Adriel only glances at Fenrir and the wolf realises what has to be done. The cute creature, who had been sitting in the corner of the tent, gets up and sits down next to Cerberus. Its red eyes, which reflect rubies dipped in a crimson river that drips from the swords of fierce warriors, remain fixed on the absconditus that Fenrir has been tasked with looking after, and its drooping tongue, which spills saliva, reveals the relaxed posture of someone who believes he is capable of fulfilling what he has been assigned.

— Let's go meet Sam — he says to Arthur, who nods in agreement.

Adriel and Arthur find the pavement of a building under construction where a blond, tanned-skinned "man" in old, tattered clothes is lying relaxed on the slab, certainly dozing off. Any normal person would judge him to be irresponsible because it wouldn't be difficult to fall twenty metres from a height due to carelessness. Adriel realises that there is a man at the entrance to the building, approaches him and greets him politely.

— Excuse me, could I speak to one of the workers here?

— If you like, I'll take a message.

— Tell Sam Hazael that his friend is already at my house waiting for him.

— Of course, who should I say the message is from?

— Adriel Hazael.

— Oh, you're a relative of his?

— Yes.

— I'm glad to hear he has someone, sometimes I think he's very lonely, I hope I'm wrong.

— There's no need to worry, Sam just shies away from social situations, he prefers to go to sleep.

— I realise that — he laughs.

Interrupting their conversation, a young blond man appears next to them, leaning on a rope he used to jump from the upper floors to the ground. The inspector just watches, used to his work colleague's eccentricities and extraordinary physical abilities.

— Hi, Adriel — he smiles, showing off his white fangs that are sharper than a thousand needles, but he doesn't look intimidating.

— Hi, Sam, when are you not busy?

— Now, I've finished my work for today.

— It's still morning and you've already finished? — Arthur asks.

— Yes, I always try to be quick so I can get rid of work.

— And then sleep in dangerous places — ironises the inspector.

— Not is dangerous, I'm a vampire, one little fall won't kill me.

— The only one who would believe that is my youngest son, he keeps telling me you're a vampire.

— He's right.

Adriel laughs discreetly and Arthur remains confused, as always, by how easy it is for the Hazael to reveal their identity and yet nobody believes in the existence of vampires.

— Anyway, I'm leaving early today, Levi — he says goodbye to his work colleague with a gesture that is reciprocated.

The three absconditus cross the entrance to the tent, dodging the scarlet fabric, and are greeted by the cuddly gaze of Fenrir, who has noticed their movement and is waiting anxiously for them. Sam calmly approaches Cerberus.

— You're a mess — he glares at him, about to laugh.

— Don't even start — and turns the other way, his back to Sam.

— How could this happen? — his tone becomes serious.

— I was guarding the entrance to the City of Atlantis, as usual, but the king's officers turned up and tried to force me to fight the Eyrwisdom.

— Is my species okay?

— Yes, they're extremely clever and capable of resisting — he doesn't say everything, to avoid pointless worries.

— You refused and had to flee? — says Sam, returning to the subject.

— Yes.

– I hope you can bear all this... it's not nice being exiled, not being able to go back home, not knowing if the people you care about are alive… — his tone wavers and becomes lower.

— There's something we can do about it, we'll dethrone Damon Okeanós.

— Don't be hasty, these kinds of revolutions never bring good results.

— I'll force it to bring good results, but something half bad is still better than our situation.

— First we have to worry about looking after you, then we'll think about the kingdom's affairs —he sighs, his fists clenched.

Adriel just watches from a distance as the two friends talk for what will surely be a long time. He doesn't avert his emerald gaze from them because he knows very well that he shouldn't trust the loyalty of any absconditus, but he doesn't interfere. If they are enemies, it's a good strategy to keep them close as if they were close friends.