The Circle of Light

By JC Sanz

Lucas y su madre huyen a un pequeño pueblo costero en el sur de España en busca de una vida mejor. Lo que no sabe es que su madre guarda un gran secreto que decidirá su futuro mientras él sufre una serie de pesadillas que lo perturban y lo asustan.

Cada vez más, es difícil diferenciar lo que es real de lo imaginario, pero lo peor está por venir ...

El ataque de los Oscuros a San Gimignano no fue más que el comienzo de un tiempo sumergido en la oscuridad donde los pueblos y ciudades fueron devastados en busca de los portadores de la luz. Para combatirlos se creó una alianza entre los diferentes seres mágicos, que se conoció como "EL CÍRCULO DE LA LUZ", pero con el paso de los años, nada más se supo de esta alianza.

Ahora, en la era actual, la Oscuridad regresa con más fuerza que nunca, lista para tomar el control del poder de los mundos sin preocuparse por acabar con la humanidad y es necesario enfrentarlos para salvar a ambos mundos de la muerte de todos los seres vivos.

Acompáñenos en un viaje a través de la historia, donde Light and Darkness luchará para hacerse cargo del poder del mundo ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Jul 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781547590629

Book preview

THE CIRCLE OF LIGHT: REBIRTH

JC SANZ

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Translated by: Soraya Flores

Good and evil always whisper in your ear. Not always listening when much as what you want to hear, but sometimes, it gives you another point of view from reality in which dreams come to be real and where truth and lies intertwine and come together at some point...

This is where I am now and for you to understand this, I must tell you a story.

For some it won’t be more than a simple nightmare, for others it won’t be more than a figment of my imagination, but to me is real and I want to share it with all you...

JC SANZ

For my beings of light who accompanied me in the rough moments of darkness, but specially for you Grandfather. The person who made me feel special in his arms and whom I always keep in my memories.

This whole world of light is dedicated to you wherever you are I want you to know that I love you.

THANKS TO...

Since the original conception of the idea came up a couple of years ago, the story has been maturing as time had gone by, although I’ll have to be honest with you (my readers, friends and family) since I started writing it on paper, I had several issues the made me leave the story behind for a few months due to the frustration I felt when losing most of the work I had already done,  but I am very obstinate and when I believe in something, I believe until the end and here you have the result, the first volume of the trilogy.

I never thought that this idea that came up because of a dream, would lead me to meet amazing people, live in worlds full of color and magic, to be so in the story in a way there were moments that I couldn’t stop myself from writing and get excited toward what it was happening even do it was me who was writing it down.

It’s been some tough months combining my work with my great passion, writing, but I feel immensely proud and happy of the result that today you have in your hands. I just hope that you live it as intensely as I felt it when I wrote it and it caught you.

I want to thank you for the opportunity to arrive again in your life and let me accompany you in those nocturnal readings under your sheets, in that moment while travelling on the bus to or from work, or simply, you rest sitting on a comfortable sofa. Thank you for your support, love and messages of encouragement that reach me and make me feel special. Thanks for making my imaginary worlds reach you in a way that unwittingly make part of you.

I won’t waste more of your time and leave you to read, take ownership of this book because it's all yours, because without your support and love this wouldn’t have been possible.

Thanks to each and every one of you, my readers, my confidents, my friends... in two words: my family. I also thank Tania for her patience and dedication to the book, for her comments, her laughter and her shared tears but above all for not letting me give up and keep fighting for what I believe in. also I take the chance to thank the help of two persons my two zero readers my dear Gemma Riancho and Elena Martín to whom I owe the coherence and the detailed correction of everything you will see and read next, and that, without them this manuscript wouldn’t be the same. Girls you are unique, and you know it! Thanks for your selfless help and making this book more special if possible.

And now... Read and enjoy. Malkavian and its magical beings await you with open doors.

JC SANZ - September 2016

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JC SANZ

THE CIRCLE OF LIGHT REBIRTH

FOREWORD

As the story tells, San Gimignano was desolated due to the plague that infected all Europe back in the year of 1348, in part this was true, but many were the legends told and many more the lies passed on that came up across the passing of time...

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[ABDONA]

Abdona, lived a long life and the years were good to her for she saw with her own eyes what truly occurred. Her grandchildren visited her daily so she would tell them tales and stories. What they never knew is that all of it was true and the main character was herself.

Now that her daughter and them had died because of the plague there was no one left to visit her, so she took advantage of the long time to write the stories in old pieces of parchment she stored in a small wooden box organizing them by event or type, this was a good way to keep herself busy and spend time feeling useful in the face of so much sadness and desolation.

She lived in the outskirts of the city on a little wood house where she had everything she needed. Never wanting to be a show off what she was not, contrary to what people in the city used to do.

Whenever in need of supplies, she saddled up her donkey and went on marching slowly towards the city.

Everyone looking from the inner corner of their eyes at her, steeping aside from her path. there were rumors all around about her life, but she could not understand why since she never meant any harm to anyone. Many said to fear her since she had suffered the loss of her daughter and grandchildren, she had become somber, uncouth and her look was cold as ice. Others screamed and shouted she was a witch, cursed by God whom had taken away what she loved the most in life, as some type of divine punishment. The children, when they saw her coming laughed at her and made mock of the poor old lady, that caused more pain than any slap anyone could give her to her face. For in each of those children she could see her grandchildren, causing her pain. It did hurt her.

The city access was quiet, except for a few voices of women chatting at the doors of their homes. The streets were narrow and steep. All around what she could see was made of stone and wood. The cobbled streets made the donkeys’ steps resonate everywhere.

The children scampered back and forth while playing with their wooden swords and their other toys, sewn by their mothers with old cloth, but they saw her and hid or ran away to another part of the city, fleeing from her. Windows and doors slammed shut as she entered the main street with her donkey. At the end of the street was the main square, where the church stood, imposing, patiently watching the market and one of the wells that were distributed across the city supplying it with fresh water.

The stalls, were minutes earlier had been selling fruit and vegetables collected from the fields located at the east of the city were stuck, so she had no choice but to turn around and go home slowly, because her tired and frail bones did not they let her walk more than a couple of meters before stopping a few seconds to rest and catch their breath. She was so pissed and frustrated that she started to rant against everyone: «Ut malediceret vobis: quia omnis. San Gimignano maledicam populus iam me sub umbra mea omnia circa corpora et animas nasci et gravissimo dolore nescire scio hic habitare».[1]

The eco produced by her voice on the stone made it resonate everywhere. Her pain was such that everyone who heard it thought they heard the devil himself, loudly shouting his curse to all the inhabitants of the city.

*****

Days went by and the fields stopped being fertile. Cereals and fruits were dried out with no apparent reason, children and adults got sick and the inhabitants of San Gimignano threw all types of prayers to the wind asking help from God, but he didn’t listen since the plague took over every corner of the city and odd was the day were no scream or cry was heard because of the death of a loved one.

Darkness fell unto the city. For some in the shape of the Black Plague, for others in the result of the curse which the old madwoman spat over the city.

She never thought something like this could happen, even lee knowing that it would be her fault. Unfortunately, she would never find out. Although she never meant for it to happen, the pain and rage made her lose control. And now... now there nothing left of what San Gimignano but ashes and burnt objects, bodies of adults and children violently murdered and mutilated animals.

The fired destroyed everything and ended the life of those who encountered with the dark ones. Abdona blamed herself for unleashing hell over the city, but she couldn’t know that attack had nothing to do with her curse. Walking through, the streets was devastating. The air seemed as if it was still tainted by the smoke and the charred bodies seem as if they were accusing her of what happened with their open eyes and expressions of surprise.

Silence walked all over, broken only by the sound of her steps resonating against the stone. As she was getting closer to the main square, she listened something, faint at first, but getting stronger, the cry of a baby. But, how was this possible? As far as she had seen in her slow walk, everything surrounding her had died or disappeared in the flames. It was impossible that a baby had been left unharmed among all this death and destruction, but as her steps were getting closer to one of the wells located on a side of the main square the crying eco was perceived more clearly. She reached to look inside and discovered a wicker basket in the place of the metal bucket usually used to pull out water. It was lightly swinging, and she found out that covered by the sheets, hidden from all barbaric events was a hungry and disconsolate baby crying.

«Oh God, what are you doing here?».

The simple fact of seeing him there, alone and abandoned, crying at the top of her lungs, reached her soul and broke her heart. She blamed herself all over again for everything that happened.

She had to bring him to safety and care for him.

Slowly, she pulled up the basket with utmost care to avoid hurting him. when she could she took him in her arms and gave him refuge there since weather was getting cooler and she wouldn’t want him to be sick. Suddenly the town hall started to burn, and the screams of the Dark Ones joined the flames.

She went away running. She couldn’t allow them to find her and even less for them to know of the existence of this baby. If someone hid him there it probably was because of an important reason so carefully covering the baby with her scarf, she went back home and blocked the doors and windows with everything she had at hand. Lighted up a candle and waited, yearning with all her strength not be found.

She heard noise coming from the city while they looked for their target. She was sure of what it was, whom it was, as she studied it with curiosity.

For some reason the baby was different, she had managed to put him down to sleep using a little of her magic, enough to keep him quiet and pass unnoticed from the Dark Ones. She had to hurry, the full moon would appear in a few minutes and she had to set everything up. In general spells like those required people presence as witness but she couldn’t go to anyone in that moment. She had to do it alone and fast.

She had not known when the child was born; there was a chance it didn’t work, although she could approximate a close date, she pinched the tip of his finger and a drop of scarlet red blood appeared. After mixing it with some herbs and ointments she managed to create a homogeneous mixture which she used to make a small candle. Placing a match close to it, once lit up it began to consume, she closed her eyes and inhaled the smoke residue that was produced. Seconds later her spirit felt as leaving her body, flying across time and it arrived at an inn near the main square.

The night fell silently over the city, except for the disconsolate cries of a woman due to the pain she felt in each contraction. She was about to give birth to her first child and was so scared of dying from the pain she felt. A man beside her, trying to comfort her with care and words full of love and endearment. He was also scared, but he remained quiet and kept his serenity for her.

The owner of the inn entered the room with a bucket of warm water and several clean cloths hanging from her arms. She had given birth herself to three healthy and slender children and had lent herself to help them in any way she could, since the doctor lived several hours away and only came to the city three time a week. Calling him would be a waste of time and the baby was rushing to see light already. The contractions were coming each time stronger and with more frequency. If the girl would’ve known that giving birth would be so painful, she would have never had been pregnant in the first place. She swore by that merciful God that they all spoke about.

A new contraction left her with no strength or breath. They both helped her to lie down, she wouldn’t last any longer like this or she’ll pass out. In that moment, the man grabbed her left hand and whispered some words in her ear. The child was coming, as foretold by the inn keeper peeking under her nightgown. Her water broke and dilated enough for the baby to be born with no complications. Now all that was left to do was for her to push with all her strength left so everything would end as soon as possible then she would rest and get better.

Abdona was looking at the scene from a corner without paying much attention, since she was immersed in her own memories from when she was young and giving birth to her daughter. That day was without doubt one of the happiest of her life and was excited to remember it.  What she’d give to change the past, but she knew very well the price to do it would be high. So, she accepted her fate just as it came, in any case, she had not enough influence nor power to fight against the gods.

A blonde baby had been born with sharp big blue eyes seeing everything able to capture all color and each object surrounding him. Avid to meet his parents and gift them a look full of love. Her mother cried of excitement as the inn keeper left to give them some privacy after giving them the baby in her arms, clean and wrapped in a small blanket which had belonged to her las baby boy. Satisfied and proud she smiled for being able to help them and because everything went fine, she had acted just as her heart dictated and felt happy for it.

*****

Days went by quickly and hour flew before Abdona aside in a room corner.

An afternoon the woman was rocking her baby after breastfeeding him, looking through the window it was a precious spring day rising over the city, bathed by light and color across all of what her eyes could see.  Abdona could read the concern marked in her face. She got near the window with curiosity and proved herself that something was not right. Since the morning in which she cursed the city and its inhabitants, harvests had been smaller, people were getting sick and dying and the stalls from the market, always filled with all types of vegetables, fruits, fabrics and clothing barely had now any products to sell... everything was happening because of her. Suddenly, the bells located in the towers that defended the city began to ring loudly warning their citizens of some danger.

In a few seconds, hell opened its doors and unleashed madness and terror throughout the village. Everywhere she looked, chaos was taking over each and every one of its corners.

«The Dark Ones...».

Terrifying demons ravaged everything that stood in their search. They wrecked buildings, burnt up houses and stores alike or killed cold blooded the ones who confronted them. Men were not prepared to fight them, since they were facing strong and fierce warriors who didn’t mind dying for their cause.

Death and fire devastated the city and the woman, trapped by panic, seemed to be nailed to the ground blankly staring the destruction. She contemplates as the demons searched for the light bearer, the newly born.

The man knowing that sooner or later they would be found, tried to face them near the inn while he was returning with some cheese, milk and bread which he managed to get haggling with their neighbors. His power was not as strong as that of the demons, weakened by fatigue and a small wound in his right leg; even so he managed to end the life of several of them until the cold edge of a dagger pierced through his chest from the back taking his life away. She as if she was out of some kind of trance could not allow them to find her child, she had to find a safe place to hide him, far apart from fire and death.

At the front door there was a wicker basket used when they bought vegetables. She put him there quickly, and before tucking him up for the last time she tied a string on his right ankle with a small octagonal locket carved. The screams of the people flooded the streets. Terror carried them by the hand and seized their souls. Tears bathed her eyes; the grief forced her to be strong and to fight for her son, since his life depended on it. He looked out the window again and saw the well not far from the inn...

«Take him there»

...And something told her tan no one would look in there. So, she used a little of her magic to make her beloved child sleep and thus make him invisible l evil and to the world.

Making it to the main square wasn’t easy. Smoke prevented her to see beyond her own feet and the screams of people frightened her. The Dark Ones were getting closer and could not waste a minute. Saying goodbye to her son felt as if her soul broke in a million pieces. To that torture was added, at that moment, a strong prick in the heart: her beloved had died. Fear and pain destroyed her. Her heart beat so hard inside her chest that she thought that, from one moment to the next, it would stop and leave her baby uncovered and unprotected. She tripped on the steps that led to the well, but she managed to stay upright and only scratched her knees a bit.

«You are so close child, you must hurry. Quick! They are close!».

She tied a rope to the handle of the basket and slowly, she lowered her son inside the well. Praying as a mundane did asking the gods to help him. Praying that none of those savages would find him.

—I know I am not the one to tell you anything, not after making all this happen. But I promise that I will take care of him with my own life if necessary. the Dark ones can’t win this battle —She whispered.

The woman died minutes later after seeing her lover lying in the cobbles that covered the street over a puddle made from his own blood. A creature appeared from the shadows recognizing her wanting to know the whereabouts of her son. She, meanwhile, gathered all her strength and power, paralyzing her heart. Seconds later she fell to her lover's side, holding his hand, willing not to part from him again.

Abdona came back to herself. After silently being witness of all that pain tears ran across her worn face, she could not allow the Dark Ones to take over that pure soul full of light. If her numbers were right this was the first full moon since his birth, and she couldn’t waste another second to get everything ready. The Dark Ones sooner or later, would find them.

On the ground she mounted a kind of altar. Placed incense in it, a bowl with salt water and an old heavy book. Lighted up a violet candle to symbolize the color of the sun's sign in his zodiac sign, Pisces and placed a ruby ​​as a talisman to attract luck and happiness to the person who carried it; finally she put the basket in the center with the baby:

—I bought this book in hopes of helping the growth of your intellect, the candle to guide your path and this precious stone to augur you luck and protection in this life —recited out loud.

Once everything was prepared, she invoked the elements, opening her arms, inviting the gods: «Magna tuque te esse matrem, qui iuvenum tibi tueri. De ritu adtendas invito te suscipiat et caritate vestra tutela positus. Magnus, frater auri virum Dei poetas ritui interesse ut ego te invitem susceperit puerum istum in terram, et aprici gramine[2]».

The screams of the Dark creatures came closer, she had to hurry. With the incense she drew a pentacle on the child for his protection and blessed him: «I bless Lucas with the energy of fire and air».

She drew a new pentacle in the child's third eye with salt water: «I bless Lucas with the energy of the earth and water».

Some towers collapsed because of the fire. The city was completely devastated, and the creatures were approaching their cabin.

«Quoniam diligo Deum, et generoso animo principiis gubernans. Amor meus fortis et sapiens dea est. Ei mater sua, pater talenta vitae arcu. Dea Domina, Lucas tua cura protegit, dabo in corde eorum, ut folia nova caeli silvarum. Ex eo tempore, dum sui juris. Vestigia eius et protegeret eum in ecclesia sanctorum noctium eo cognoscere infinita tegitur caelum et sidera Daphnis[3]».

She drew a square with salt water and incense and shouted loudly; while, outside, a storm was coming, and thunder rumbled inside the wooden house. She took the child delicately and passed it across the four corners: «Protectors of the east! Eurus! Guardians of the winds».

Acknowledge Lucas. And help him glide across the limitless skies of thought and imagination. Send soft breezes to guide him in his daily path. Bless him with all the power of the East!

«Protectors of the South! Notus! Lord of Fire».

Acknowledge Lucas. Make him strong with your energy. Sent him all the help of light in the challenges that await him, Bless him with all the power of the South!

«Protectors of the West! Zephiro! Lord of water».

Acknowledge Lucas. And help him swim the deepest oceans of emotion and empathy. Send your clear waters to cleanse all doubt or confusion in his heart. Bless him with all the power of the West!

«Protectors of the North! Boras! Lord of earth».

Acknowledge Lucas. And help him be part of mother earth. Send rich earth to plant his roots and them to connect him with all that exists. With everyone, Bless him with all the power of the North!

A lighting struck the sky the moment Abdona finished her spell. The thunder was heard at the same time as the Dark Ones cast the door down. The had discovered the cabin and, with their weapons and torches in hand, they went in search of the baby. Abdona trembled in terror; but without thinking twice she took a dagger and made a cut in her hand. With her own blood she made a new pentacle on his forehead and shouted:

—Lord and Lady, keep this child pure. Let everything harmful stay away from him and do not let the Darkness turn off his light....

Her voice froze as a cold metal blade of a sword pierced her chest, bathing her clothing with blood. The crimson stain grew; his eyes, astonished, did not reflect fear, but hope. Her hands trembled and no other word came back from his lips. Death dragged her with her slowly, coming from the hands of the Dark Prince.

Her face, once frightened, reflected peace, and from her curved lips a smile appeared.

She had achieved it. She had seen how the baby and the altar elements disappeared before her eyes. She had saved him, and she did not care about dying. She was ready to embrace death and purge her sins as her god commanded her.

—Damn you, witch. Damn you a thousand times! Where is he? Where did you send him?... I wish you could suffer my wrath wherever you go...! —Ahriman shouted angrily.

He had been very close to having him in his hands, but that old witch had snatched him away. The bearer of light had disappeared and now he had to return to the palace without him. Again, he would feel the contempt and disgust from the look of her mother.

Once again, he had let her down.

PART I: THE AWAKENING

«At the end of that journey awaited another awakening. The one of many memories asleep for a long time...»

MARC LEVY

CHAPTER 1

[LUCAS]

In the distance the black clouds that covered the first rays of the sun that illuminated the buildings dissipated. There was a big storm the night before, and there were still streams of water running down the streets and sidewalks, coming from the highest areas of the city.

His hands trembled; he had once again had the same nightmare as in days gone by and, in his face, in addition to marking himself more and more exhaustion, his lack of sleep was reflected in the spots under his eyes and the paleness of the rest of his face. In spite of everything, he tried to calm down and recover his composure, with his forehead resting on the glass of his bedroom window to feel its freshness.

When he closed his eyes, bits of what he dreamed about came to mind...

...He listened to whispers of voices calling him, as he ran, barefoot and in the dark, through a forest; He stumbled over almost everything that stood in his way, as he barely saw. Although the moon shone on high, because of the foliage of the tall pines there was barely enough light to know where he was going, let alone know what or who was he fleeing from.

His breathing became more and more difficult. He needed to catch his breath; his lungs burned. He began to notice a slight pinch on the right side of the abdomen. He did not remember running as much as he was doing now, except when he was a boy and playing with his friends on the beach of Barcelona. He even thought he could hear them laughing and calling him, but that was impossible. Many years have gone by and he no longer lived there, nor would he return, just as things were.

Something was rapidly approaching him, and as he looked back, he struck his forehead with the low branch of a tree. He fell to the ground, a trickle of blood running down his forehead and nose. The ground, which seconds before was of earth and dry branches, had become something slippery that enveloped him fast; the more resistance he opposed, the faster he sank.

He blinked to try to wipe blood from his eyes. The idea of ​​drowning was presented as the best option to stop fleeing and, for a few seconds, gave up and let himself be trapped. The words of his mother echoed in his mind, telling him that life was a continuous struggle, and that to surrender was only to prove to oneself that he was a coward.

Some nights, after listening to his mother's words, he would wake up sweaty in bed and stay for a while looking at the ceiling, trying to regain control of his breathing. He touched his neck in despair until he realized that it had been a nightmare and that nothing was real, even if it seemed so...

...Others, however, continued to sink while being covered by a slimy substance, giving him just enough time to take one last breath of air. He was getting the idea that he would die right there, alone and without anyone but the pines to see him and help him; the moon watched him from above without flinching.

He could not let himself die there, without fighting, without doing anything, so he tried to move his arms and feet, but he could not free himself from that prison. He only managed to sink more and more. Suddenly, the pressure that until a few seconds ago overwhelmed and terrified him, disappeared and allowed him to move slowly. His own body bothered him; the absence of oxygen in his lungs was like feeling like he was being ripped inside with thousands of burning blades. Slowly, he opened one eye with fear for what he might have before him. He closed his fists so hard that his nails opened furrows where they met the palm of his hands. The hole and the viscous substance had disappeared. He exhaled the desired air to see that he was still alive, standing and barefoot somewhere, in silence and plunged in the most terrible darkness...

––––––––

That night, the dream came further, and he found himself in a very dark place. He did not feel pain, but he could smell the metallic odor of the drops of blood that dripped from his hands, from the wounds he had made when digging his nails. He tried to evoke what happened next; almost every night when he woke up, it was hard for him to keep every element of his dreams in his memory. There were always things, subtle details that escaped and never came back to mind. However, on rare occasions like that the memories were so vivid that they seemed to have been marked by fire in his memory. It seemed that he had really suffered them...

...He opened his arms and, with fingers spread out, tried to touch anything that might be nearby. He did not feel anything. He took several steps forward; He thought he heard a metallic sound approaching him, crawling across the floor. He was still barefoot since at each step he felt his coldness under his feet. By the rough touch he deduced that he was resting on stone. His touch pierced her skin, feeling every pore of her body freeze. He could not see anything, but a constant whisper seemed to speak his name.

Fear woke inside him and took over his being, just as the chains that appeared out of nowhere clung to his flesh. In less than a second, he was trapped by wrists and ankles with shackles; something filthy covered his head, preventing him from breathing normally. He tried to scream but his voice did not find the way. He smelled sour, and his stomach threatened to vomit at any moment. Small beams of light filtered through that kind of grid cloth that covered his head. He concluded that it could be a sack, since he could not see well through it.

The whisper became little by little a clear and musical voice, in a kind of chant in which they seemed to intone his name. That made him shudder, because it came closer and closer, resonating with the different tones of the echo produced from the place; his body did not want to or could not respond.

His hands were sweating, stinging where sweat touched the wounds. He did not want anyone to hear him complain, so he bit his lower lip so he would not succumb to screaming and asking for help. His muscles tensed as he prepared for what was to come. He let his mind work to try to make sense of what was happening. His feet he did not even feel them because of the cold and the pain. He tried to be strong and stay calm in order to regain control of his muscles, but he was finding it impossible to notice that something scratched and tickled him as it traced his back.

They pulled away the sack; He had to close his eyelids quickly because so much light prevented him from seeing and damaged his eyes. He blinked several times to moisten his pupils and managed to adapt to the bright light that blinded him after a few seconds.

Several torches illuminated a circular room, carved in the stone of what appeared to be a cave. It was decorated mostly by wooden shelves that ran from the floor to the vaulted ceiling, filled with ancient tomes covered with dry leather, aged by the passage of time and accumulated dust. There were any kind of book that could be imagined, with titles that I did not know because they were written in languages ​​as old as the world itself. Although what attracted the most attention was that, from the center of the stone dome, a series of roots appeared that twisted in abrupt shapes until reaching the ground, becoming a kind of garland. It reached a large marble slab, carved with strange drawings. Although he could not know them, there was something in his disposition and in his way that was very familiar to him.

Someone came behind his back dragging its feet. The sound was amplified due to the acoustics of the room, so it was difficult to distinguish if the steps were of one or more people. Hundreds of questions flooded his mind, but as he went to make them out of his throat out of his throat, there was only a dull growl that made him more frightened. The hair on his body stood on end and it started to be hard for him to breathe. It smelled of smoke and metal; both impregnated his palate with a bitter taste.

He coughed. He coughed until he thought he would vomit his lungs through his mouth. Pretty hysterical he looked everywhere. Did not see anything.

He felt that his back and arms were scratched and that from those scratches hot blood flowed down his body, mingling with all that had already spilled on the floor.

A shout from the smoke scared him, followed by another and another, and another each one more heartbreaking than the previous one ... A rough hand, worn by the passage of years, settled on his shoulder. He saw long, thin fingers topped by badly-groomed, razor-sharp fingernails that made him scream desperately because of the one he felt when they dug into his skin...

...And it was there, at that very moment, when he awoke making a loud, piercing scream and jumped out of bed with that terrible feeling of panic, pain and suffocation that he still felt despite discovering that it had been no more than another nightmare...

[CRIS]

As she did every day she could, Cris helped her aunt Elisa in the bookshop. She lived with her when she became an orphan after the death of her parents in a tragic car accident when she was seven years old and, according to him, it was a miracle that she survived after colliding the car against a tree while she was sleeping peacefully in the back seat.

She was very small, but still, over the years, she used to have nightmares about the accident. No doubt the trauma would accompany her throughout her life as she became very nervous when she had to get into a car.

Her aunt Elisa was the only sister with whom his mother counted and although she was very young when the loss of her older sister and brother-in-law occurred, she did not hesitate to take charge of her niece and ask for her legal custody, spending a lot of time between paperwork, comings and goings to the court and all kinds of legal problems and had. In spite of everything, it was worth going through all this. All the headache caused by this was completely forgotten at the time she picked up from the mailbox the long-awaited notification that informed her of the good news, feeling very happy and happy for having achieved it.

She loved her very much because he had shown her that he loved her with all that he did for her and hoped that she would know that this affection was mutual, since she tried to prove it to her every day.

Elisa went out of her way to care for her and, in a way, it bothered her, because she had devoted so much to raising her well and not wanting anything, that she seemed to have settled for that and her work, forgetting the most important thing, her heart. She had not met anyone in years and when she was once approached by a nice guy with big blue eyes as piercing as if she were looking at the ocean itself, she ignored him and the boy, after trying to get her attention several times., he surrendered. They never saw him again, neither in the bookstore nor in the area, and it saddened her that her aunt had given up her life to take care of her because she deserved to have someone at her side to take care of her, love her and love her and, although she tried to Doing all that, could not compare his love with the love that a man could offer him.

She pulled those thoughts out of his head, hitting his forehead with an open hand and paying attention again to what she was doing. With time she managed to become an expert in the management and organization of the bookstore. Every moment that caught him was busy sorting things or changing some of the books that were not selling so much for new and more striking, thus avoiding the few sales they had lately. So, while one was cleaning the shelves, the other one opened the boxes they had received with the new books and placed them in their place checking that everything received was reflected in the delivery notes. So, the work was more enjoyable and while they helped each other, as they took the opportunity to talk about all kinds of things.

Those times were the ones that Cris liked the most. The times where time seemed to stop, and she was alone with her aunt talking about trivialities and laughing out loud both for any nonsense.

They still had to finish replenishing shelves and fixing the window, but it was Saturday and people were not in a hurry to do their errands. Also, after having been raining all night, they doubted that they would sell much that day since weather