Bright pink clouds are the company of the twin stars, that solemnly bid farewell to the absconditus in a splendid twilight. Wave trails of rubellite cover the sky as if it were blushing for having found the love that completes its lonely soul, and dance with the orange strokes of the stars' remaining rays. And like an immaculate mirror, the waves of the sea reflect this celestial spectacle while emitting a sweet melody due to the movement of the water.

The cosy twilight light caresses the window glass of a military office located in the Greeks' land domain, as it awaits its imminent disappearance behind the horizon.

In this office, Marshal Cassander Okeanós and his right-hand man, Marquis Orion Okeanós, are wrapping up a long meeting with one of the generals of the Eyrwisdom army. After the general walks through the door, they don't even have time to sigh with relief at having finished their work, because the king has just entered the office alone.

Cassander and Orion humbly kneel before Damon, who observes this act with indifference because these kinds of formalities — "delays" — are not to his liking, but he doesn't interfere so that the people continue to respect him as king and understand the hierarchy.

The three of them sit around a simple but refined rectangular table, where the two soldiers are positioned next to each other in front of the window and the king in front of them.

Damon doesn't have an imposing posture, let alone an intimidating one, he appears to be just some introverted absconditus, and he doesn't even dress like a nobleman. While the upper classes are always adorned with jewellery and adore armour, to the point where this battle gear has become a fashion item that sometimes, despite being beautiful, can't stand even a touch, he only wears a white shirt and blue-black trousers, in the style of the time of his birth — somewhere between one thousand seven hundred and fifty and one thousand eight hundred after Christ. However, even in these circumstances, his presence, serious features and eye contact extended over an excessively long period of silence, are capable of making the two soldiers shudder.

— Cassander, I know your desire to stay in office at any cost, even if it means assassinating Orion. And Orion, I know your desire to assassinate Cassander and become a marshal. So, if either of you dies, the one who survives will lose his titles. If you intend to stay in power, protect each other's lives and I will reward you.

Not a word is spoken by the two rivals and the king simply leaves the office.

It's not as if this situation bothered Damon enough for him to decide to deal with it himself, in fact, he wouldn't even have noticed this obvious disagreement between the two if his wife hadn't warned him, asking him to protect her brother, which he did immediately.

The cloak of darkness gently spreads over the absconditus world, as soft as a child's gentle embrace. While many only sleep to forget and rest from their labours, others use a destructive method to achieve the same goal.

The fateful odour of alcohol dominates the atmosphere of a tavern, as if it were a dense cloud weighing down the beings who delude themselves into a false sense of happiness resulting from the escape that only feeds the existential emptiness whose only weakness is the courage of those who dare to face it. To escape the sadness, they find the numbness of their minds that transforms them into zombie-like beings, where pleasures, as always, take happiness away from the path to the soul they risk losing.

An Eyrwisdom who is already in his crumpled formal clothes, flushed face and long, dishevelled tresses, plays chess with a beautiful damsel clad in a long, classic Greek-style dress of a black hue, contrasting with her white, long wavy hair, and a man describes the board to this bandaged-eyed woman. Although he occasionally breaks the rules in his favour without even realising it while playing his ruthless captain's strategies, the Greek doesn't mind her opponent's accidental trickery and proceeds with the calm moves that bring out Eyrwisdom.

As soon as he enters the tavern, Cerberus's face twitches from the heavy odour of alcohol, just as any old man would do in front of the others and then drink in hiding from his children, which is not the case with him because this contempt remains even in his solitary moments. He approaches the Greek woman and the soft spring fragrance she exudes, without any trace of alcohol, makes her presence the only softness in the tavern.

Cerberus waits for the match to finish, so as not to interrupt them, and greets the Greek woman, who, on noticing his presence, transforms into a man similar in appearance to his female form, but wearing a shorter haircut, like the typical Hellenistic statues, and a wide, flowing cloak of the same colour as his dress. Tiresias leans back in his chair, smiling, and greets Cerberus, making Captain Eyrwisdom doubt his eyesight and regret that he's been playing with a man all this time.

— Have you come for no reason or do you need something?

— I'm here to ask for your help.

— Let's talk outside.

Stepping through the door of the tavern is like passing through a portal that transports you to another world, a world that, despite being difficult, has the capacity to provide peace. The gentle breeze contrasts with the overwhelming air of the tavern and the silence is more pleasant than a symphony composed by the most talented musicians, highlighting the beautiful painting with colourful strokes of nebulae and glittering stars that intertwine in the sky with the other stars.

They both sit on the grass, leaning on tree trunks in the woods near the tavern, a little away from the wooden buildings of the British, where you can see the dazzling wings of the fairies cutting through the darkness with snow-white beams of light.

— If it's a prophecy you're asking me for, I won't give you one.

— Why not? I need it.

— Would it be necessary because it would allow you to analyse the future on your own and follow your own ideas? — he emphasises the word "own" — Cerberus, although you possess a great deal of knowledge, all that a mortal is capable of contemplating with his mind is nothing close to what really exists.

— I'm with Sam.

— Would you even listen to him if he suggested something contrary to your vision?

— So what should I do? — he surrenders, and Tiresias tilts his head to the side of his voice, with a soft smile.

— First: do you really think you have better judgement than Osiris, the supreme judge? — Cerberus just remains quiet, a little flushed — Or do you think he would be fair, but an inconsequential feeling of revenge for the murder of your friend consumes you?

— I see — his voice is low, as is his gaze — How am I supposed to seek justice? — he asks, already anticipating the answer, but wanting to confirm his thoughts.

— What better way to achieve it if not with an Eyrwisdom? Find Aedan and he'll guide you.

— Thank you.

— Thank me for spending some time with me, I have nothing to do and it's still early, I just want to... I don't know. How about surfing? However, not with a board, but with a skateboard, I've always wondered if that would work, I hope no Meropes complain.

— Early? It's nearly dawn! Does your species sleep? And how come you don't die doing these random things?

— What an elder's spirit!

— You're older than me.

— That's proof that you're still young enough to keep up with me.

— No, I'm not.

— If it pleases you, my great-great-grandfather, I humbly invite you to go fishing with me this morning — your sarcasm accidentally makes Cerberus laugh until he almost loses all his breath.

— Choose anything you like, with a hundred bottles of coffee I can keep up with you, as long as it doesn't involve anything... let's say... romantic, because you may be more womanizer… or “manizer” than Zeus and Poseidon combined, but I prefer chastity.

— All right, we can break into an Egyptian pyramid. I found a map...

— Was it necessary to say that legality is a requirement?

— I'm joking. I discovered a park in a remote area of the Australian duchy. I'd like to visit it.

— Sounds interesting.

The two of them get up and Cerberus takes Tiresias by the hand so that his friend doesn't need his staff to guide him, which would require more time. Before starting to walk out of the woods, Tirésias turns to the side of the person reading this book and smiles, nodding his head in greeting.