A blaze of velvet red pierced the fine white sky. Silhouettes of birds and echoes of their morning song resounded in the air. They soared high, as if escaping some sullen malice that lay underneath. They formed an array of poetic welcoming for the rising of the sun in the broad and warm skies of the city of Lisbon.
The waves surrendered to the magnetic call of the shore’s lips. The mountains behind spoke in silence as they were swallowed by grey skies. At the base of the mountains, on the other side from the shore, a slim figure strolled through the rocky steeps. His movement so silent that, even within the stillness that surrounded him, the echo of his footsteps was a mere whisper.
He walked with purpose, eyes set on a destination in front of him, unblinking as the winds curled and tossed around him.
The rocks on the mountain ahead of him were in shades of dark grey and reddish brown. He gazed at them for a moment from afar, then turned his head to a nearly twenty-foot-tall yellow rock formation to his right. He approached the rocks while constantly scanning his surroundings, making sure he wasn’t being followed. He listened for the sound of footsteps or even the tremble of stones nearby. Nothing could be missed.
Satisfied that he was indeed alone, he knelt before the limestone rocks and reached out to a dirty greenish rock that sat alone, engulfed within the yellowness of the rocks. He pushed the rock into the wall. In seconds, a passageway right behind the rock formation was revealed and he became swallowed inside it.
Surrounded by darkness he swiftly made his way down the narrow passageways, deeper into the mountain.
It didn’t take him long to reach the end of his trek. He pressed his hand against a glass door and waited patiently until it slid open. Instantly bathed in fluorescent lights that shone whiter than snow, he blinked and let his eyes adjust. He walked in, through the tunnel of light, and down a second passageway much clearer than the first. His footsteps echoed as he picked up speed. His high black boots rang with the sounds of metal chains.
It was like a maze of tunnels bathed in brightness. He opened doors, turned left and right, and almost robotically moved toward a destination known only to him. The force with which he pushed the doors open gave the impression that the thin man was either quite angry or agitated. The shades of red on his forehead and the sweat running down his cheeks were both a sign of distress and the product of the endless walking he had to endure.
But even though his breathing was heavy and labored, he didn’t stop to rest. For nearly thirty minutes he roamed the tunnels, pushing through one door after the other, driven by instinct and an obscure purpose known only to him.
He finally stopped at a hallway with three doors. He fixed his gaze on the one right across from him, marched towards it, then hesitated.
Wrong one.
He turned and pushed the bar on the door to his left and swiftly slipped inside.
There were mirrors on every wall and on the ceiling. The floor was adorned with a plush, bright-red rug. The room was hexagonal in shape and the lights inside burned a bluish white that made his eyes water. The floor and the bars that hung on every corner looked like those in the basement of the Skolars back in Calen.
The man finally took a moment to stop and catch his breath before walking towards the small brown door in between two mirrors.
He pressed his finger on a small round button to the right and waited. “It’s Raul,” he said.
Seconds later a buzzer sounded and the lock on the door released. Raul pushed the door open into a room similar to the one he’d just left. But, unlike the mirrors on every wall, this one gleamed with portraits and paintings in golden frames. Each painting depicted a man or a woman in crimson red or dark blue suit. The paintings were engraved with dates that went back centuries.
A round table in the middle of the room caught Raul’s attention. Four people sat, two on each side, their attention drawn to a fifth man standing on his own. The conversations had stopped as everyone turned to look at the newcomer.
“Raul?”
Raul looked at the young man in charge of the meeting and swiftly made his way to him. “Sorry for interrupting,” he said, the urgency in his voice grabbing everyone’s attention. “I know it isn’t my place, but I have some terribly important news.”
Not that entering a hidden building and barging into a secret meeting wasn’t important.
This, however, couldn’t wait.
Raul didn’t wait for a response. “It’s about the city of Calen.”