Moon Rising

Chapter 28

Edited by Higashi

THE FOUL TASTE OF BILE had been accompanying Julián the whole day. The blizzard that for the past hours had been relentlessly hitting the car was too much for his nerves. He still couldn't understand how Orion could drive under such conditions, or how he was able to see through the dense snowfall. Despite the warmth inside the car, Julián was terrified that her niece would be affected by the bitter cold outside.

“We are home,” Orion spoke for the first time in several hours as he stopped the car in front of a mountain of snow.

Julián looked at him incredulously. They were in the middle of nowhere! Literally.

He could only see a few trees bended under the weight of the snow and piles upon piles of snow surrounding them.

“Do you plan to live in an igloo?” he asked belligerently. His patience was definitively at an end.

“Under it, in fact” Orion answered nonchalantly, and Julian heard inside his head the sound he had come to identify as Lýkos chuckles.

Right in front of his eyes a snow pile began to crumble as something like a gigantic garage door opened to reveal a long line of lights buried in the stonewall of what looked to be man-made tunnel.

The car advanced through the dimly lit tunnel as it softly descended into a much larger area where many SUVs, heavy-duty vehicles and snowmobiles were orderly parked in lines.

Julián frowned.

There were too many vehicles just for Orion to drive, even if he had suddenly fallen head over heels with automobiles and decided that driving was a good thing to do. Silently, he descended from the car and picked Esperanza up in his arms as Orion opened the door for Lýkos.

Julián looked around and began to count the vehicles parked there. He stopped after reaching thirty. Obviously, Orion wasn't alone in that strange place.

“Back so soon?” a well-known raspy voice asked, and Julián jumped startled and turned to see Sartanos standing next to them. Despite the chilling temperature in the garage, he was only wearing a light sweater and jeans, his black hair as unkempt as usual.

“Are you not freezing to death?” Julián couldn't help to ask.

“Freezing? This is just a bit of fresh air,” Sartanos chuckled. “But you're now here to give us all the warmth we need.”

“Fuck you!” Julián replied hotly, and Sartanos chortled, amused by the boy's reaction.

“I see that you brought something for the grill,” the man pointed at the toddler fighting against her uncle to be set free on the floor.

“Keep your hands away from her!” howled Julián.

“Next time you feel the need of having a Guardian, please make sure that he's from some royal line, won’t you, Koiranos?” Sartanos complained, but Orion only shrugged, unimpressed by the other man's taunts.

“We will see in a few millennia.” Orion began to walk towards the large door at the end of the garage, leaving everyone behind, only accompanied by a happy to be at home Lýkos.

Julián threw a murderous look at Sartanos, and it was the Warrior’s turn to shrug like a twelve-year-old naughty boy.

“You have no sense of humour. I was not going to grill your niece,” the man said.

“With all of you around, one can’t be sure,” Julián mumbled as they stopped in front of a heavy-duty, reinforced steel double door with only a very thick, small glass panel in its centre.

Orion placed his hand over a hand scanner at the right side of the door.

Shocked, Julián saw the doors open to reveal a long white corridor, much warmer than the garage. The double doors closed after them, and the lights in the garage went dark.

Disoriented, he followed Orion as he strolled through the corridor. As they walked, he noticed that on the walls began to appear what he recognised to be paintings from famous artists. The more doors they crossed, the more paintings there seemed to be.

After the fourth or fifth door, Julián lost all sense of direction, but he felt happy that inside everything was so warm and well-lit.

At one point, he stopped and gaped at a large painting from the sixteenth century depicting several rubicund, blonde ladies scantly clad, wearing pearls and strangely looking like the Muses.

“Nothing like the ladies in Antwerp,” Sartanos said. “Pity there were not many dark-skinned women at the time, but these were fine examples of what a real woman should be like.”

“This looks so much like The Three Graces I saw once in El Prado,” Julián said.

“Maybe you're not a hopeless case, after all. Perhaps in a century or two, it will be interesting to talk to you,” Sartanos said ironically, and Julián fulminated him with his eyes. “The author that painted the one in El Prado also painted this one here. Rubens,” he carefully pronounced the artist's name as if Julián were a toddler in the kindergarten. “These women represent the Arts.”

“I had already guessed that,” Julián snapped.

“Really? Can you name them?” Sartanos challenged him.

“I would send you to hell, buy maybe I would have to suffer you there too,” Julián said, and Sartanos laughed full heartedly.

Orion and Lýkos watched them without much interest, perhaps glad that now Sartanos would be busy making the Guardian's life hard and leave them alone.

Just a second before Julián said something nasty to Sartanos, the door at the end of the corridor opened.

“What a beautiful baby!” a woman in her mid-twenties shouted in ecstasy, and Julián turned around to see a tall blonde coming towards them as she extended her arms to carry Esperanza.

Silently, Julián put her niece down, and she walked insecurely towards the lady.

“She's…” Orion started to introduce the woman, but realised he had forgotten her name.

“Ileana, from Ukraine,” Sartanos supplied the name in no time and with no hesitations. “Neurosurgeon. But I guess she knows something about paediatrics too.”

“Of course, I do,” she knelt down to be at the toddler’s level and was happy when the child hugged her. “It's an honour to meet you, Seer,” she addressed Orion with a respectful voice, but he didn't bother to cast another look at her.

“Show Julián around, Sartanos,” Orion said nonchalantly and walked away, more interested in attending pending issues than in staying to chat with the humans. Lýkos, of course, went with him.

“Don't let his manners upset you,” Sartanos shrugged. “He was cast out of Gloriana's court just because of them.”

“Of whom?”

“The Not-So-Virgin Queen? Gloriana?”

“Elizabeth Tudor,” Julián corrected him mildly.

“Her court name was Gloriana, child. Regina Gloriana. Don't they teach you anything these days?”

“Sartanos, we travelled from France almost nonstop, I wish to have no further discussions with you on the sex of angels. For all I care, they can be sexless.”

“Your loss. My dialectical skills were greatly admired in the past,” Sartanos shrugged and smiled at the woman quietly playing with Esperanza. “My dear, could you give him the short tour? Do not be too concerned about his boorish manners. He does his best to learn.”

“Certainly, sir” she replied and rose to her feet, holding Esperanza by the hand.

“I'll see you at dinner, then,” Julián said with false sweetness as he thought how nice it would be to see Sartanos falling on his face.

Julián had not yet gathered Esperanza into his arms when he heard the noise of someone hitting the floor hard. Biting his lip, he turned around and watched in false concern how Sartanos rose from the floor, brushing his right knee.

“Are you hurt?”

“Witch,” growled Sartanos and walked away with what little dignity he had left.

The woman watched the silent exchange between the immortals but couldn't understand a thing. The youth was one of them, no doubt about that. It could be seen in the way he treated and was treated by the Seer and one of the Warriors. All she had received from the other men was haughtiness and barely concealed contempt.

“My name is Julián, and she is my niece, Esperanza,” the boy said, and she gaped. Did the immortal had a real blood family, or was it only a way to look human?

“I’m Ileana.”

“Are you a real doctor?”

“One of the many here,” she answered nervously.

“Many?”

“We need many for the three hundred persons living here. I'm a neurosurgeon, Khatchik is our paediatrician. He's very good with children.”

“Are there any children around here?” As far as Julián knew, children were not included in Orion's list of things worth living with.

“Around fourteen, aged zero to three. They were all born here, after people moved in and couples started to form. Esperanza will have some playmates.”

“Couples?”

“For the future. We came here single, and maybe we’ll find our mate here. The Lords never say much. They only give us a few guidelines and oversee our work. They created this place and brought us here.”

“Do you know what is going on? Outside, I mean.”

“The plague. Yes, I do. I was one of the first people to describe the prion that causes it. Lord Agapetos contacted me because of that, and later on he invited me here. It was a long journey up here.”

“If you are a scientist, then you know that there is no salvation for you,” Julián said calmly.

“I'm clean from it. I did all what the Lords told me to do.” The woman was very sure of her words. “I'm not sick, if that is what worries you.”

“Are there any other lords around?”

“Lord Kallikrates and Lord Nikostratos, but Lord Sartanos and Lord Agapetos are the ones who spend more time with us.”

“I see.” Julián head spun around. There were four other Warriors around? Life would get interesting if they started to mark the trees—literally-speaking in at least one case.

“I'll show you around, but if you want, we can first go to the nursery so the child can be fed and play before her bedtime.”

“That would be wonderful,” replied Julián, still wondering how on earth Orion had accepted to have a nursery under his own roof, or well, under his own new cave.

The corridors were well illuminated; the soft, warm lights caused no pain to his sensitive eyes. For a second, Julián had the impression that they were descending further down into the ground, but he said nothing. A few people passed by them and greeted the woman warmly as she returned their greeting with equal affection.

Everywhere he looked, he saw mankind’s artworks, many of them old and priceless, just like the gigantic Rubens he had seen a while before.

“We are a bit crammed at the moment,” Ileana said with a smile when Julián stopped in front of a large, black stone statue that looked very similar to those Assyrian lions he had once seen in a book.

“We hope to build more rooms in the future, but as this is a well-controlled atmosphere, the pieces can remain here.”

“How big is this place?”

“The complex? About three or four square kilometres in total, so far.”

“That big?”

“It's enough for us, and you should take into account that in a few years there will be more of us; if we are lucky, that is.”

“When was all this built?”

“The first tunnels, in the early eighties, I think. Lord Sartanos and Lord Agapetos know better. They designed almost everything. You should ask them.”

She turned to the left in one of the corridors and decidedly pushed the button of a non-descriptive metal door. It opened to reveal a large playground with six toddlers playing with some wooden toys on a colourful carpet while two women watched over them.

Esperanza giggled when she saw the other babies and walked towards them, forgetting about her uncle.

“She'll be fine and be taken to bed later. Don't worry,” a tall, young, brunette girl said.

“I guess so,” replied Julián, secretly glad to be ridden of the responsibility of looking after Esperanza, if only for a little while. It was in that moment that he realised how utterly tired he was. He only wanted to rest and continue to mend his relationship with Orion.

Esperanza had let herself fall onto her nappies and didn't seem to mind that Julián wasn’t with her, so interested she was examining a ragged doll.

“I'll show you the park now,” Ileana interrupted his musings. “The baby will be fine here.”

Julián followed her silently, passing another set of hallways and taking many more turns until they arrived to a large set of glass doors that automatically opened for them.

Julián was astounded by the large trees growing inside a huge arboretum. As he crossed the entrance, his skin felt the warm, wet breeze so typical of greenhouses.

He walked along a path made of small pebbles towards the nearest giant tree. It was covered in moss and proudly showed some orchids daringly hanging from its branches. Thinking that it had to be a plastic recreation, Julián touched the tree’s bark. It felt real.

The smell of wet vegetation invaded his nostrils and tickled his brain. The grass under his shoes felt real and smelled as if it had been recently cut.

Julián held his breath and looked upwards at the perhaps-twenty-metres-high ceiling.

There was no crystal, only a series of silver, metallic half-domes that reflected the plants below in a distorted way. They alternated with huge lamps that cast a delicate light over the plants.

“How can you keep them alive?” Julián asked in awe.

“There is a remote skylight for that. The Sky Collector. It is a series of solar panels that filter the sunlight through an optic fibre cable that distributes it all over the underground,” Ileana explained him gently.

“Those mirror-like umbrellas you see are the distributors; they reflect the non-harmful rays that carry the wavelengths necessary to support photosynthesis, enabling the plants to grow indoors in a rich hydroponics solution. Only here, in the park, we have real earth for the trees, the rest relays on hydroponics.”

“Is there enough to feed the people here?”

“I'm not into that, but most of the greens that we, or the animals, eat come from the outside. We are working on this system as a backup for when the whole economic system collapses and we become unable to import anything more. The sunlight is not very reliable at this latitude. Either there is a lot of it, or there is none—unlike the moon which is always there. There are special sets of batteries in the lowest levels that store energy, but I don't know much about them. Lord Sartanos designed them using graphene, and they last indefinitely.”

Julián stared at her and took a deep breath in, digesting the information. Everything looked so peaceful and organized that it scared him. The park reminded him of the forest in Portugal or the woods around the house in Les Eyzies, but there was something missing from it.

The garden was too perfect. Calculated to the millimetre. As if someone had used a ruler and a compass to decide where to place the orchids.

There was nothing here of the chaos he had associated with life.

The woman standing in front of him also looked perfect. Flawless.

Orion's Brave New World is just… that. Perfection as beauty. Nothing else. There's no place for mistakes or ugliness.

But instead of feeling depressed at the idea of living in such a controlled world, Julián felt exhilarated. He had seen (and suffered) his share of ugliness, and this was a place to start everything anew, to get rid of the mistakes of the past.

“Have you seen the flocks of reindeer?” Ileana asked a little worried when the Guardian remained silent.

“Are they tasty?” Julián gulped as he recovered himself from his trance. The idea of that kind of meat in the menu was unappetizing for him. Maybe reindeers were good for the Eskimos, but he was made to eat chicken, fish, cows and pigs.

“It depends on how good the cook is,” she answered playfully, and Julián smiled back at her nervously. “No, it's actually good,” she told him, convinced of her words.

“Glad to hear that. Is the ‘no corn, no wheat’ rule also enforced here?”

“Yes, it is, but there are many samples of the original, unmodified plants stored in the vault. Maybe my great grandchildren will find some use for them. The gardens here are more for leisure than a real need.”

“Who designed all this?”

“Lord Sartanos and Lord Agapetos. They are light-years ahead of us in their way of thinking. Once they learn something from our fields, the extent to which they can further develop it is amazing. There are other scientists and engineers working with them, but they do most of the creative work.”

The youth could only nod and followed her meekly as she prattled about the species planted in the garden.

Ileana was more than happy to explain him the different jobs at the “City” and how the work was split among everybody. She was in charge of the infirmary, along with seven other doctors who had left everything behind just to follow their dream of refunding mankind.

For Julián, it was strange to see that the humans living here were not afraid of the “immortals” and instead showed them a respect that bordered on servitude.

He continued to follow Ileana, barely paying attention to her words, along the other corridors and halls. He was taken to the deepest underground levels were the large array of solar batteries were stored, to the different workshops where some people fixed equipment while others sewed clothes, to the kitchens where all food was prepared, to the labs and a small hospital with the latest medical equipment, and to the meeting halls.

All the humans he met during their walk were aged between their twenties and (in a few cases) early forties. They were all single and hadn’t known each other before taking residence in the underground compound.

“From where does the money come to pay for all this?” he asked when they entered the gigantic library that was two levels underground. His sight could not stop wandering across the endless lines of closed bookshelves containing priceless volumes.

Julián gasped when he saw a room inside the library full with humming servers and racks overloaded with small boxes he identified as some kind of data storage disks.

“If you were to live several thousand years, don't you think that would give you enough time to store some riches?” she answered sweetly. “The Lords paid for everything, and I believe they traded their skills to obtain security and protection for this place.”

“Not that they need much protection, anyway,” mumbled Julián as his fingers reverently touched the shiny methacrylate surface of the boxes. “I wouldn't like to start an open war with someone who can summon hurricanes and turn your army into mindless zombies, or with a nasty guy who believes in the beauty of ultrasonic weapons.”

Ileana looked at him shocked. “Are the Lords able to…?”

“Do that?” Julián completed the sentence and shrugged. “Let's don't find out, shall we?” Julián chortled. “Being several thousand years old is bad enough. That gives you enough creative bile to obliterate the human race.”

The woman looked at him transfixed, slowly breathing in and out. “I'll introduce you to Lord Agapetos. He must be in his office now,” she said nervously.

“We have all the time in the world to meet each other. Could you better tell me where are Ori—I mean, Lord Koiranos rooms?”

“I can't go as far as there, but I can show you where they are located.”



Being handed over from person to person was something Julián hated with a passion. It made him feel like the beggar at the employment office waiting for an officer to stamp his papers and then being told to go to another desk to check his “career advancing opportunities”, like, for example, getting another six-months benefits package.

But this occurrence had been repeating quite frequently since Ileana had deposited him in “the capable hands of Terence”.

Terence, the engineer, was in his late thirties and had given Julián ‘the grand tour’ through the hydroponic orchard, the central command room and the storage rooms.

Julián had never been as happy as when the man's enthusiastic explanation about gigantic solar batteries was interrupted by a young girl who came to fetch them for dinner.

At dinner, he had had almost no chance to speak with Orion, who had been busy talking with his “brothers”. Afterwards, Julián had been handed over—again—now to a young, blond man around his age, to be escorted to Orion's rooms.

Julián had to chew his lower lip to keep his jealousy at bay. The doll standing in front of him obviously wasn't a geneticist, although he prattled and prattled about the basis of their new political system and about how excited he was to learn that Julián was a historian, “We now have someone who can keep record of all what we do here.”

However, all Julián could think about was: If you were in charge of Orion's rooms, then you were doing something more than just tiding up.

Julián barked a good-bye to the boy the minute he entered the large bedroom decorated with many of the things that used to be at Orion's bedroom in Portugal. He slammed the door in the other boy's face.

Seething, Julián removed his clothes and rummaged through the wardrobe looking for something to wear to bed. Finally, he found his own set of pyjamas and marched towards the shower.

There were so many things going through his head. The compound was huge and obviously designed to hold a large group of humans and keep them healthy and happy, as if they were educated cattle.

As far as he knew, Orion did not care for—hated, despised—humans and their society: He ‘read’ about them but kept an aseptic distance from them.

And yet, here he was, supporting and keeping a large number of humans if he were to judge by the many he had seen at dinnertime in the large dinning hall where all the people met every night.

There, Julián had been introduced to four or five more persons, all of them highly educated and polite to him. These men and women were the “council”, which made all the decisions about the ruling of the community. They were “elected” based on their skills and performance by a computer program that randomly changed them from time to time.

“If I were to make the decision, this would only sparkle hatred and fuel internal divisions,” had said Orion nonchalantly when asked why a machine made a decision that should be his to make. “An algorithm can be modified to favour some people over others, but most humans believe a computer to be a fair judge.”

During dinner, for the first time in his life, Julián had hated with a passion being the centre of attention.

People addressed him as “Guardian” or “Lord Guardian” and didn't feel compelled to use his name. It appeared that the humans were quite taken by his status and ‘skills’, as the all mighty Lord Agapetos had whispered to him during the dessert, made only of fresh fruits.

Contrary to Lýkos or Sartanos, Agapetos was a quiet, drawn man. From what Julián had heard, it seemed that Agapetos was considered to be some kind of technological genius, and he had designed most of the compound’s “habitat” by himself. He was as tall as Orion and had the same reddish-brown hair and grey eyes.

Agapetos didn't like to be spoken to or to be formally addressed. That would make him blush in front of his interlocutor and reply in a very confused manner or simply ignore the question, which gave him an aura of mystery.

At least he behaves like an ordinary man, Julián had thought.

In truth, he didn't know what to make out of the shy giant. He suspected that perhaps Orion and Agapetos were blood-related. He wouldn’t go as far as to say they were brothers. But cousins, maybe? Orion had treated him differently, without the haughty tones or the hostile contempt he showed Sartanos. Even Lýkos had rubbed himself against Agapetos like a puppy.

Lýkos had also sat at the table with the other Warriors and human councillors. He had looked regal as he sat on a high chair and looked down at the humans. Julián had noticed that the people who served Lýkos did their best to avoid any kind of physical contact with the wolf.

Julián had been so tired that he had had trouble following the conversation taking place around him or the explanations being given. He had only showed a brief interest in how the day was organized for the children, but not much besides that.

In the sanctuary of Orion’s bedroom, the weariness of the trip began to settle in his bones. Julián yawned, thinking that a hot shower would feel incredible. His neck cracked when he moved it, and he headed for the bathroom.

He felt slightly disappointed when he turned the water on and realised that the shower was one of those energy-saving devices with more hot air than water in it. Still, the scalding temperature felt blissful to his sore neck, which kept making strange cracking noises when Julián twisted his head from side to side.

The water went cold and Julián turned the tap off. He dried himself with a large towel and dressed in his pyjamas.

The huge bed was the same one from Portugal. Julián sighed happily at its sight and moved away the fur covers Orion loved so much. He slid under the covers and struggled to find a comfortable position. His bones ached, stiff from so many hours in a car. He was tired beyond his dreams but happy to be there.

In a strange way, everything fitted to what he had always desired society to be. Things here were clean, orderly, accepting, non problematic.

“Why were you so upset with Paul? Has he done something to you?” Orion asked frowning deeply when he entered the room and saw Julián buried under the covers.

“You tell me,” the youth snapped. He had already forgotten about the ‘doll’, but apparently Orion somehow cared about him.

“How would I know? I didn't unpack your things or your niece's. If something is missing, ask him to replace it.”

Orion sat on the bed and began to untie his boots. He still wore the same crumpled two-days-old clothes from the trip, as if he hadn’t had time to change, busy with the “councillors” and inspecting the place.

“Why?” growled Julián as his blood began to boil the same way it did every time Orion evaded the question or deliberately misunderstood him.

“Because you become absolutely impossible when it comes to your things.”

“No. Why are you doing this? You’ve always said that you don’t care much about people and that, in fact, you were happy that the humans had managed to extinguish themselves. You're an antisocial person.”

“Yes, I am.”

“But here I've seen libraries, art collections, computers, all kinds of technological gizmos—which you hate with your soul, I might add—that are being used to protect the environment. And surprise! People are happy to see you. Why?”

“We decided to give mankind another chance,” Orion answered laconically.

“And you rescued as many pieces of our society as you could and have given your protection to these people without asking for anything in return. What I don't understand is why you did it all by yourselves and in secrecy. Why didn't you join efforts with all the politicians or the rich guys that came to you? With your information and ideas, they could have built something a thousand times bigger than this place and given everybody another chance.”

Orion's hand began to draw imaginary lines on the fur cover, his eyes lost in the ripples of fox hair.

“It was a fortunate coincidence you wanted to study history,” Orion said softly, and Julián looked at him bemused by the apparent non sequitur. “You are still interested in people, and you can understand their hopes and fears. I cannot.”

Julián opened his mouth, but a single glance from Orion made him keep quiet.

“You are not only the Guardian between our worlds, but the guardian of their lore. You will record all what they say or do, and maybe, this time we will remember them, since it will be one of us who prevents the sands of time from burying them.

“These humans will not be forgotten, Julián. Their new society will not be forgotten. They will cease to be the forgotten ones.

“It is not a men's society what we are creating here. It's our society, built under the Moon God’s guidance. The Warriors and I have agreed to teach men what we know. To show them how to live as we used to do before the War. Men must follow our rules, not theirs.

“When you came to us, you were shocked that I treated Lýkos as my equal. You thought I was crazy according to what you were taught to think by your society.

“Wolves were the lords in my land. They could destroy everything in the blink of an eye. To become friends with them was something sacred; an honour. The moon-warriors taught us how to get closer to the wolves. This was the way before. Men were no different from animals.

“The Sun taught their children to feel themselves superior to beasts. Agriculture made men less dependant on nature. They could control crops better than beasts. Humans became arrogant, selfish and envious of the moon-warriors, who where our guides and protectors. Men built cities and armies, and marched against us.”

Julián was rendered speechless by Orion's speech. He could feel something shifting inside of him.

Once more, he faced the abyss of destruction. This time, however, he wasn't afraid of the fall.

He took a deep breath and erased his last concerns over mankind from his mind. Perhaps he would forget the people he had known in his previous life, perhaps not.

It was immaterial.

All that mattered to him was here, in the Habitat.

“I would have never obeyed nor allied with men, Julián. They are not our friends or allies. This has been the way for centuries. I only used them,” Orion finally stated what Julián already knew.

“So from the beginning you planned to let them die? To save only a few of them? What about the rest?” Julián's mind was focused on the chronicle he would write. The beginnings of their society, built upon the ashes of previous civilizations.

Like it has always been.

The realization gave Julián comfort. He only wanted to know what each Warrior had contributed to the Habitat. What each person had done for the Community. What they would all do and create together. The rest were ashes swept away by time.

“We don't need more people,” Orion explained him gently. He too had felt the change in Julián. “Humans didn't leave many of us alive when they fell upon us. They hunted us down. And they would have kept doing it if they hadn’t needed us for their petty wars.

“The Moon God dictated who and how many we would be allowed to keep for his service and glory.”

“Are you telling me that a god made a list of the people he wanted to save?” Julián frowned displeased. That was not the idea he had had in mind for the beginning of his history book. It was a myth. But perhaps he would have to change his ideas, too.

“I saw most of the people who are here today in my meditations, and my brothers identified them.”

“Did you ever see me before we met?”

“No, never. I was quite shocked with your coming.”

Julián went silent. He breathed slowly, doing his best to calm down his nerves and organize his thoughts. The Habitat was the perfect place to start rebuilding it all. Maybe he wouldn't be writing a history book in the strict sense of the word, but something more along the lines of a religious book.

It would be worth it.

He would need Lýkos' help, of course, to put everything in perspective. Orion's thinking was biased by his beliefs. The wolf had more common sense and was more down to earth than all the Warriors together.

“What is going to happen now?” Julián whispered, still overwhelmed but exhilarated at the titanic task unfolding in front of his eyes.

“What should be. What will be. It's a new world that unfolds in front of us.”

Finis

November 19^th, 2014