The sun was shining softly when they emerged from the 'Simply Clovers'. If Tthor had not been so worried about everything Darius had told him, he would have realized how beautiful the center of the village was.

   A single main street, known as Aigond Street, zigzagged from north to south dressed in the most important and strange, thought Tthor the Meaghdose. Places where they sold herbs, plants, stuffed leaves and twisted animals in strange transparent glass jars; a place whose sign read: dragons skin, scales, pure and hybrid blood, horns and eggs, all colors, at the best price and great quality. And, another business, attached to this one, offered: deer antlers, camel's head, clam's belly, eagle's claws, hare's eyes.

   "What they offer is true, about dragons."

   "Of course! Dragons exist, everyone knows it..." Darius looked at Tthor out of the corner of his eye. "Sometimes I forget that you haven't been raised here. There are many things you should learn; for example: if You eat dragon tongue you gain the power to speak with animals and if you bathe in their blood, you become invincible."

   "And what are we waiting to buy?" Darius laughed in amusement.

   "You should also know that not everything they offer you here is true. Furthermore, the blood, the tongue of a dragon, or any other part of its body, only confers its effect on the person who has married it and killed it with their own hands. "

   "Great! I already knew it couldn't be that good..."

   Tthor followed Darius a few more meters and saw a small fast food place, packed to the street with people lining up to buy. When a lady and her little daughter ran to the side, Tthor could read on a sign that was quite worn and about to fall: roasted entrails, pickled brains and stewed eyes. All for just two kelsics a portion! To Tthor it seemed cheap, even though he was not very sure of the value of the coin.

   "What animal are the brains and eyes from?'

   "Better not ask..." Darius murmured, taking him by the arm and leading him away from the crowd.

   There were also businesses selling kerosene and wax for aromatic candles, wholesale distributors of corma, a liquor made from honey and ground wheat, and weapons for all occasions: foils, quivers, rustic arrows, swords, daggers and knives. Tthor instinctively thought of the school gang.

   "Let's buy something from there!"

   Darius shook his head as he roared with laughter.

   "You can't, you're a minor and you also need a special permit to have any of those weapons..."

   Tthor sighed in disappointment. Which made Darius laugh even more. Almost at the end of Aigond Street, a small shoe store, whose front only displayed a strange worn and dirty brown boot, seemed to catch Darius's attention.

  "This is it," said the little man, entering through the small red door.

   Tthor had to bend down to access the interior. The place was quite dark, with almost all the walls covered by shelves, filled with shoes of all kinds and sizes, from a small one that would fit only on a doll's foot, to a giant one that measured more than two meters. There were also tools, drawers with nails, tacks and zippers. A pair of kerosene lamps hung near the counter where a man of medium build, bald, and with a round, pinkish face was working with a hammer.

   "Tthor, meet Mr. André L'Vois, shoe specialist."

   The boy observed his clothing in silence: he was wearing a leather apron and, underneath it, the shoemaker was wearing a red jacket with shiny buttons, ocher leggings and a three-pointed hat.

   "He's a Leprechaun," Darius whispered.

   Tthor had no idea what a Leprechaun could do but the shoemaker's serious face watching him persuaded him not to ask. Then he said:

   "Nice to meet you, sir."

   "The taste is entirely mine. We were waiting for you here," Mr. L'Vois' voice was guttural and firm. "Although I imagined you...a little different..." he said, observing the boy's increasingly disfigured face.

   Tthor answered embarrassed:

   "Yes, I heard that today."

   Darius cleared his throat and asked:

   "Are Warghost's orders ready, Mr. L'Vois?"

   "Of course," said the shoemaker, smiling widely, "here is Mr. Dedalus's boot, Mrs. Mariamne's shoe, and Miss Rémona's wicker-woven sandal, and as he said that, he took them out from under the counter everything he mentioned. He placed them in a round box and handed it to Darius. "It will be eleven tunks, please."

   Darius paid and did not accept the change. He waved and motioned for Thor to follow him.

   "Three things are excellent among worldly affairs: hating nonsense, loving Excellence, and constantly striving to learn."

   "Sure," Darius stammered and guided Thor to the path.

   "What did you mean?" Tthor asked as he followed Darius down a cobbled, one-way side street.

   "Mr.André L'Vois always speaks like that, in triads."

   "Triads?"

   " Yes, they are phrases or thoughts that are always united by three concepts," Darius recited with some difficulty." But don't ask me what it really means because I don't know. You should ask Noel."

   Tthor looked at Darius curiously.

   "Noel? Who is Noel?"

   "Noel G. O. Douval, the shoemaker's niece. There she is coming..."

   "Why does almost everyone here have several initials?" Tthor asked as he saw a young girl, about her age, with long platinum braid, blue eyes, and a round, round body approaching, smiling at them.

   "Orffelios taught us that, with each important change or transcendental experience, a new name is received that symbolizes the new stage. Then the previous names become initials."

   "And you? Do you have several names?"

   " No. Just Darius Beurgh. Only the Vanir of ancient times and the Asís, and a few merchants or those who obtain special permission acquire new names. And it is done at the Coronation party."

   Tthor wanted to know more but Darius had already stepped forward to greet the young girl. Noel turned out to be very nice. She smiled almost all the time. And Tthor was silently grateful that she liked to talk a lot because that forced him to listen to her and stay away from thoughts about what Darius had told him, especially the discovery that he had an enemy who wanted him dead.

   Noel told Tthor about the tradition of the tree spirit. The boy had not realized that all the trees that lined the path they had taken had colored fabrics and apples hanging from their branches.

   "When they lose their leaves, we cover them with these decorations," the girl explained. "We do it to invite the spirit of the tree to return next Spring, since they retreat with the cold."

   Tthor really liked that tradition and mentally promised to tell Wilgenyna all about it in a future letter. He regretted having written only a few short lines to her. Darius saw concern reflected in the boy's face and asked him if he was feeling okay. The boy smiled. Always thinking about Wilgenyna lit up his face. And Darius was pleased.

   "Your face is already deflating."

   " What happened?" Noel asked, looking at him closely.

   "I'm allergic to air potato," said Tthor red, remembering the professor's mockery.

   "Ah, it's quite common around here," Noel said smiling.

   And Tthor left the town feeling much better. But with a question that had been on his mind since he had arrived at Warghost: why did Professor Evans seem to hate him so much? When he was alone with Darius he would try to find out.