Fire Master Part 4

I stopped at a place close to the fortress, at the exit of the palm tree avenue, where, necessarily, 

all the caravans passed. Removing my glove and armband, I knelt to scrape the floor. I looked at 

pebbles on the ground, the dust and hard sand of the land, sniffing, feeling and listening to the most delicate 

vibrations. I analyzed the thermal prints, but there were footprints everywhere, making it impossible 

a detailed conclusion. 

At one point, I sensed that someone was approaching to my left, carrying with them a 

detestable aroma of sweat, blood and filth, I stretched my neck, and there was the beggar who, earlier, 

He asked for alms at the entrance to the fort. He kept his head down, hidden by a shadowy hood, and his hands 

wrapped in disgusting bandages. When I first saw him, I assumed he was a leper, but now I don't. 

He was so sure of the nature of his illness. It didn't smell like a sick person, but there were stains 

of blood on your clothes. At first I tried to ignore him, so as not to interrupt my concentration, but the 

dying man evoked me. 

"I know what you're looking for," he murmured. The voice was hoarse, tired. 

- He knows? — I returned, in disbelief. 

He moved even closer. 

— Search for the trail of the Desert Sorcerer. 

How did that beggar know about Zamir? And even if I had seen your train, what kind of 

knowledge would a beggar have about magic or the occult? Surprised, I got up and walked towards him. 

meeting. 

- Who are you? 

— Please don't come any closer. Who I am or who I was no longer matters. I chose anonymity, 

begging, hunger. This is my curse, just as you have yours. It was the way I found 

to redeem me from my sins. You must respect my choice. 

— But you're... — he was speechless. 

— Zamir, the Sorcerer of the Desert — continued the poor man — has been wandering the world and murdering 

the masters of magic, to steal their secrets. It was he who killed Drakali-Thoth, and now, armed 

of his mystical arts, he heads to Rome to destroy the Enchantress of En-Dor. It's a dark time for 

mages, outsider, and you must run to save your friend. 

"That's what I've been trying to do," I replied, no longer caring about the identity of the 

mendicant. —I identified the witcher's trail last morning. 

- I know. Six weeks ago, the sorcerer was in this town, carried by slaves in a litter. 

ebony. They will follow the Silk Road and, at the height of the Kavir Desert, they will descend to the south, where 

intend to find the secret Babylonian trails. This is also your path, I believe. 

— It's the quickest way to get to Egypt. 

—Of course it is, of course it is — he whispered, almost losing himself in forbidden memories. — But no 

worry. Zamir travels on foot. If the Greek caravan continues at this pace, it will advance a little further. 

each day, reducing the advantage of the Babylonian avenger. If everything goes according to your plans, you 

he will arrive in Alexandria shortly after the sorcerer and will land in Italy almost at the same time as him. 

— I hope you're right. For the sake of Shamira and everyone in this killer's sights — even 

So, I was unaware of the fact that Zamir was responsible for those horrific crimes. 

— There's one more thing. Perhaps the summoner will perform a spell to hide the entrance to the routes 

secret. If, when you pass the ruins of Persepolis, all you see are dunes, wait for the 

twilight and follow the evening star, paying no attention to obstacles. Without delay you will be launched on the trail 

correia, 

Perplexed, I looked with fraternity and compassion at the wise man in front of me, certain that my piety, 

in the past, assisted by Shamira's advice, she had finally generated a sovereign. Not a sovereign 

common, holder of a magnificent empire, but a master of wisdom, a prophet of truth. The King 

Beggar had overcome his trials and finally become as great as he had ever wanted to be. 

— And you, where are you going now? I asked. 

I heard him smiling softly. 

— I will continue my martyrdom, renegade. I will continue to be flogged, stoned and discriminated against. But this 

does not weaken me. I don't envy the rich, the generals, the emperors, because I've been in the place 

of them, and that was the worst of my punishments, 

At the end of the speech, the beggar nodded a greeting, turned around and left the village, to 

never come back. He wandered south, without sandals, with injured feet, scraping the sole against the 

boiling sand. As his figure fell over the horizon, disappearing in a ride with the setting sun, I heard the 

Ibn-Hatar's trot, guided by Sicilian hair. 

— I didn't want to interrupt you, mate, but I was curious to know what you were talking about with that guy. 

beggar. From the way they deliberated, anyone would say they had known each other for years. 

I found the observation somewhat timely. 

—All I know are legends, Tommaso. In the lands of Sumer, when civilization was young, 

It was said that there was an immortal king who ruled the greatest of all the empires on earth. It was a kingdom 

degenerate, putrid, hateful. The terrible monarch forced his slaves to work until death, to 

erect monuments in his name. One day, a renegade angel arrived in the capital seeking revenge and, 

with his mystical sword, he struck the sovereign. The king did not die, but the wound he carried could not 

no longer be cured, and he was condemned to oblivion. Since then, the Beggar King has traveled the world 

as a pauper, paying for the harm he did to his subjects. 

— I liked the story — replied the servant. —But this king... What was his name? 

— He renounced his name. He decided of his own free will to abandon it, and with that he left behind all his 

guilt he carried. 

Tommaso sighed and looked back towards the beggar, but he was gone. 

— Come — he invited — we're starting to prepare dinner. 

I followed him, with a thought pounding my brain. This often happens when 

lives too much — we not only hear legends, but we become part of them. 

I knew the king's name. 

His name was Nimrod. 

Persepolis — As Dunas Irreais 

With the end of summer, the heat eased. Now, even in the hottest hours of the day, horses 

They got less tired, and our trip continued calmly, without any unexpected events. 

At the beginning of the second month of autumn, the road narrowed between two splendid manifestations 

geographical. To the south, the Kopet mountain range outlined the horizon, and to the north, the flat, 

The sandy area ended up being a desert of earth and salt — the Kavir Desert. The Kopet Mountains are 

gigantic rocky elevations, made of dark and wrinkled stones, that currently delimit the border 

between Iran and Turkmenistan. At that time, the peaks also traced the borders of the kingdom — people 

Steppe nomads operated beyond the mountain ranges, extending their territories throughout Kazakhstan, 

Russia and Mongolia. From there, the desert awaited us. Seven months after we left Turfan, 

we would leave the Silk Road, heading south. The secret trail began just west of Persepolis, and 

This meant that we would still have to overcome the entire Iranian plateau to reach it. This would therefore be 

the most critical period of the trip, since we would not have any bites to follow. We would move 

with only the map and the stars as a guide, but fortunately I knew the path relatively well. 

Even so, the chances of us getting lost were considerable. 

That's not what happened. With everyone's cooperation, it took us two months to cross Partia. 

We avoided bandits, soldiers, difficult terrain and still had time to tell stories by the 

bonfire and delight ourselves with tasty dinners, prepared by Flor do Leste. In my spare time, I continued 

giving Greek lessons to the girl, who could now write complete sentences. Concentrated on guard, 

I gave up on tracking Zamir and his entourage — the beggar had revealed the witcher's path to me, and I concluded that 

sooner or later we would get ahead of them. 

My relationship with the Greeks improved, especially with Polyx, who initially feared that I would 

lead into a trap. Instead, I wisely guided the convoy across the Iranian plains, and the 

The guy started to respect me as a guide. 

On a cold December morning, at the beginning of winter of year 1, we saw to the east the sad and gloomy 

skeleton of the ancient Persian capital, Persepolis, destroyed by Alexander the Great, in the fourth century BC 

From that point on, only two hours separated us from the entrance to the Babylonian secret route. 

West of Persepolis, the ground was flat and dry, and palm vegetation completed the scene. The map 

brought by the Greeks was very accurate and did not indicate any change in the environment. However, when 

As we continue heading south, we come across an unexpected obstacle. 

— A desert of dunes? — Pólix was surprised, protecting his eyes with his hand on his forehead. - What 

are these hills in the middle of the Persian plateau? 

An inopportune strip of fine sand formed a crescent in front of us, surrounding the south, east and west with 

kilometers of soft earth, impassable by any vehicle on wheels. 

Thales checked the map. 

— This formation is not in our records, and I have never heard anything about it. It doesn't seem to me 

simply an area of ​​accumulated sand, brought by the wind, but given its length I would say it is a 

true desert, vast and dangerous. 

It was neither one thing nor the other. The mysterious immensity was not only artificial, but contained within itself 

something mystical. Humans might not notice, but my senses revealed to me that the entire place 

he was under the effect of a powerful spell. The noise of the wind was unreal, the smell of the sand didn't exist, and the 

The projected image was nothing more than a simulacrum in the eyes of a cherub. 

— You have already walked these lands, barbarian! — exclaimed the young Greek. — Where are the trails 

secret things you promised us? 

I turned my attention back to the caravan. 

— They will appear in the early evening. The evening star will show us the way. 

—Is this some kind of trick? 

— No, no tricks. I know the direction, or at least I know how to identify it. 

Thales interfered: 

— The barbarian wisely guided us here, son. Let's trust him a little more. 

The boy replied looking at me: 

— I didn't say I didn't trust. I just can't understand the logic of this situation. 

"We're not lost," I explained. —The appearance of the sand hills proves this. They hide the 

secret way entrance. But we will have to wait until dusk to find the passage. 

— If we have to wait, then we better rest and eat something — decided old Tales, 

walking to the freighter. 

Polyx put aside the cart's reins and analyzed the details of the map. 

— It can't be. There is no desert around here. 

He was right. 

In the Tunnel of the Dead 

The evening star, also recognized as the planet Venus, emerged in the first minutes of the 

twilight, shining brightly in the east. 

— Look! —Polix pointed out. — There is the silver star, the brightest in the sky. But I still don't see 

the entrance to the secret way — it was an indirect one. 

— You won't even see it, Polix — I said, offering him a long strip of cloth. He held the object without 

to understand. 

—What's that for? 

— Place it over your eyes. 

— How do you expect me to guide the caravan blindfolded, barbarian? 

Tales, Tommaso and Flor do Leste watched, impassively, the discussion. 

— We will tie one cart to another, and the camels to the last of the carts. I will lead the first 

transport. As for you, you must not observe the passage — I looked at the others. — None of you 

he must. 

The young Greek headed a negative. He was irreducible, and would do anything to reject a command, the 

In your opinion, so absurd. Beside him, the old man was already adjusting the sash, and Tommaso was doing the same on the family cart. 

created. Flor do Leste, silent, organized the herbs in her backpack. 

— But what's all this for, stranger? Why this mystery? You ask us to trust you, but 

at the same time he appears to us with a stupid idea. 

— There are things in this world that your eyes are not prepared for. Reason, sanity and 

Conscience are a man's priceless riches. Don't want to lose them, boy. 

- Why? — he asked, frantic. He wouldn't give up. —What is so dark that 

our eyes can't bear it? What makes you different from us? 

Thales, with his patience already hanging by a thread, exploded in a shower of insults: 

— Do what he says! Enough disobedience! 

Polyx shuddered, frightened by his father's sudden inflammation, but he was not completely intimidated. 

— I'm sorry, but all I'm doing is ensuring the safety of the caravan. You yourself 

said that... 

— Shut up! If you had really understood what I said, you wouldn't be behaving like a 

child. Put the blindfold on and keep quiet. 

The old man's face had swollen, an obvious indication that he had completely lost control. I don't know what the 

had led to so much. Perhaps he thought the harpies were beyond the hills, waiting to kill him. 

Annoyed, the young Greek finally bowed to the reprimand and covered his eyes with the piece of canvas. No 

I had no regrets about what happened. In your place, I would have done the same. In fact, Polyx and I were 

more similar than I had imagined at first. 

It was clear to me from the beginning that the desert ahead was a ghostly illusion, cast out toward me. 

confuse passersby. The image had been produced by a spell. The wizard Zamir had passed by, without 

doubt, and, as the Beggar King had supposed, he had cast a spell to hide the entrance to the trail. Like this, 

Few would venture down the path, and even those who did would not find the passage, the 

unless they took the correct direction from Vésper. 

The decision to blindfold the humans was calculated. What impact would those unprepared minds have? 

would they suffer when contemplating such an unbelievable event? The mere sight of the illusory passage could 

cause such profound damage to their reason that perhaps they would be overcome by madness. It is true that the 

Mages and sorcerers, who manipulate magic daily, are also human, but they exercise their 

skills little by little and little by little they learn to accept the reality of the impossible. But for some, 

like Polyx, who were very connected to the natural world, a revelation like that could 

render their minds useless and rob them of their sanity. 

When I advanced, together with the train, between the spectral hills, the dirt climb that 

leading to the top of the dune simply disappeared, and we entered the heart of the illusory image created by 

Zamir. A ghostly gale shook the wagons, accompanied by a series of screams and 

shrill murmurs. Dark shadows appeared around us, dancing in frantic circles. 

They were tormented spirits, who had been captured by a magical ritual. 

Some spells, like this magnificent illusion enchantment, need to be constantly 

powered by energy infusions. To obtain it, some wizards capture wandering spirits, suck their 

strengths and thus guarantee the preservation of its charms. Imprisoned ghosts are almost always 

confusing creatures, which makes them easy targets for necromancers. 

- What is happening? — demanded Polix, with a frightened scream. The noise of the shadows was 

so intense that I almost couldn't hear him. 

"Sit down, close your eyes and cover your ears," I ordered. — Don't move until you hear my signal. 

- No! I want to know what's going on. I demand to know! 

— Do as I say, boy, or else this could be your last night of conscience. 

— I don't accept that! I don't accept that — said the young man. The more he screamed, the more his voice became louder. 

losing in the spectral frenzy. In his youthful excitement, Polyx could not contain himself and ripped off the strip of canvas. 

that protected his eyes. 

I don't know, and I never tried to find out, what was going on in the Hellenic's mind at that time. The vision of a 

Such a macabre scene caused his brain to collapse and, unconsciously, he threw himself to the ground, shaking. 

He collapsed into the fetal position, moaning and crying. The body also responded, relaxing the intestine and 

releasing feces and urine in a stinking puddle. 

Pulling Ibn-Hatar's reins and fastening his feet tightly in the stirrups, I stepped back and brought the steed to bear. 

to the flanks of the second cart, stopping when I entered the place where the Greek lay. We couldn't stay 

more time there, absolutely. We needed to escape that mystical hurricane soon, before Polix 

sink forever into the abyss of madness. 

With my left hand I held the sorrel's neck firmly, I crouched down and with my right hand I grabbed it. 

I put all my strength into the boy's arm, pulling him towards me. Pressing the back of her head down and fingering her 

a key point on the neck, I affected one of his vital zones, thus calming the convulsions, 

manipulation of vital points was a martial technique known to the cherubim, but which also 

could be useful in medicine. A second later, Polix fell asleep, allowing me to resume my work. 

convoy control. 

The ghosts continued to dance and hiss, but the wind gradually calmed down. We were 

now close to the exit — and close to the trail entrance. The area affected by the enchantment was short, 

but the horror of the spectral monsters lengthened the perception of the journey. 

I saw a silver light, a hint of hope in the midst of chaos. It was the moon that shone in the sky, 

sign that we were leaving the tunnel of the dead. 

Suddenly, the illusion ended. The ghosts disappeared, taking with them their gusts of terror. Ibn-Hatar 

It stamped its hooves on the ground, and I observed the space around me. We were in a square, an area 

circular path thirty meters in diameter, of hard, dry soil, which funneled into an arid trail, almost 

infinite. The path went south as far as the eye could see and then turned west, towards the 

Mesopotamia. 

To remain hidden throughout its entire length, the secret route sank three meters above the ground, so 

that the wanderers and merchants, in the distance, would not notice the travelers passing by. On both sides of 

road, banks of rigid clay, which shrank inwards in the form of a wall, functioned as 

barriers to prevent sand from flowing from outside to inside the road. It was, therefore, a type 

of valley, wide and deep. 

— Are we there yet? someone asked. It was Tommaso. 

— You can take off the blindfold now — I announced. 

I jumped off the horse and laid Polyx's inert body, still asleep, on the ground. I analyzed your heartbeat 

heart disease, the consistency of the skin and the mobility of the bones. Physically, he had suffered nothing. 

—Is he okay? — asked the father, running to meet his son. 

"He'll be fine, I think. He suffered a very strong emotional impact, an experience that can mark him 

for life. 

Tales supported the boy's head with one hand, and with the other he checked his temperature. 

Sadly, he projected his lost gaze somewhere on his youthful face. Flower of the East knelt beside him 

and laid a wet cloth on the young Greek's forehead. 

The old man returned his son to the ground, entrusting him to the indispensable care of the Chinese girl. 

He stood up and surveyed the entire area in the night glow of the moon. On the left, there was a retreat in the 

ravine, and inside it was a stone statue. The work, in full size, had been punished by time, 

but it was still possible to distinguish the unmistakable features of King Nimrod. 

— You are an envoy of the gods, aren't you? — asked Tales, austerely, turning to me. — All of this 

what is happening... You are the herald who came to announce my death. 

I knew it would be difficult to convince him otherwise, especially after that fantastic event. 

— I'm nothing like that, Tales. I have nothing to do with gods and I do not participate in any prophecies. But 

I know, and now you know too, that there are many truths beyond mundane reality. These trails 

They were built a long time ago, by men under the orders of a wizard. And it is to be expected that the same 

witchcraft is being used to hide your entry. 

— Witchcraft? 

— Don't be impressed. The vast majority of people will never come into contact with these phenomena. 

Every day, human beings become more attached to the material world, forgetting their instincts. It was because 

That's why the animals weren't scared. For them, nothing is impossible. But Polix was not prepared 

for what he saw. It was not for nothing that I asked them to put it up for sale. 

He didn't say anything. Tommaso listened to the conversation in a corner. 

— The path is safe — I emphasized — and your son will be fine. I'm not a fortune teller, but I'll take a few chances 

predictions. We will no longer see patrols, obstacles or thieves. In two months we will arrive safe and sound 

to Alexandria. I guarantee we won't have any more setbacks. 

—So the oracle was wrong? Was he wrong about his person? 

When I saw him begging for a direct answer, I thought of enlightening him about the non-existence of harpies. But, if 

If I did this, he would know that I had overheard his conversation with Polyx in the tent at Turfan, and he would begin 

wondering what kind of special powers I had. Therefore, I decided to release an ambiguous answer: 

— It is possible that you misinterpreted him. The words of the oracle should not be 

taken literally. 

— It's possible... — he murmured, returning to the cart. — It's possible. 

After that, Thales didn't bring up the subject anymore and didn't ask any more questions about ghosts and witchcraft. 

I don't think he was satisfied with the answers that night, but I imagine he had, of his own free will, 

chosen ignorance. 

What about Flor do Leste? Had he also chosen ignorance? 

She learned the answer by accident that same night. In my eagerness to convince Polix to use the 

sale, I forgot to give one of them to the girl. 

Quietly, she observed everything. 

Via Secreta 

As they had already rested in the afternoon, Tales and Tommaso accepted my advice and we continued our journey through 

another hour, to get to the water source ahead as soon as possible. Already fully recovered from 

injuries to my arm, I no longer needed food or rest and continued to head the 

caravan. The chances of us getting lost, however, were practically nil — the route was unique, it followed 

in only one direction, and for a long time we wouldn't see any forks. 

I didn't even need to dismount to notice the marks of Zamir and his entourage on the ground. 

There were no footprints, because the ground was very hard, but the thermal impressions clearly indicated the location. 

journey of the magician, which was, in short, the same as ours. He was heading south and then he would turn 

west, entering the ancient Babylonian territories. If the Beggar King's calculations were correct, 

I no longer had to worry about running too far to catch up to the wizard. Keeping the 

steady pace, he would eventually catch up with the assassin in Rome, before he could put his plan into practice. 

diabolical. 

Tranquilizei-me. 

The cold of the night swallowed the desert, but the sharp wind did not bother us, precisely because the trail 

It was built below ground level. A wonderful idea, without a doubt, that could only have been 

designed by a genius mind. It was sad to think, however, that the engineer of those routes, Zamir, was 

now my opponent. 

When we were a few meters from the water fountain, the Greek cart, which was behind, 

stopped, and Thales announced loudly: 

— Barbarian! Come over here. I think Polyx woke up. 

Inside the owners' wagon, Flor do Leste offered the boy a glass of water and herbs. THE 

The young man had already opened his eyes, but he still seemed immersed in a distant world. Sitting, with legs 

crossed, he stared at the ground, oblivious to everything around him. He did not respond to calls, he did not accept or 

refused commands, did not recognize people or objects. It was completely out of date, and I started 

question my initial diagnosis. Tales poked him twice, but then gave up, trying not to 

show no feeling when seeing his son sunk in that madness, 

As I couldn't speak, Flor do Leste wrote a note to me on a piece of canvas, saying that 

I didn't really know how to help him, but I believed that all he needed was time and rest. No 

We had nothing more to do to help him except force him to eat and drink while he remained 

in a state of apathy. 

— So — said the old man — would you hazard a guess? 

As I wasn't very sure, I preferred to be optimistic. 

— He woke up, and that's a good sign. Your mind must be struggling right now. Struggling to understand the 

he saw, to digest what he went through. Many of those who survive these experiences often 

quickly return to reason, because they simply give up understanding the events witnessed. But 

We know that Pólix isn't the type to give up easily - I made it sound like a compliment, but his father didn't mind. 

impressed. 

— Let us hope that the gods help him in this battle. 

He placed his hope in the supreme forces. 

— All help is welcome — I agreed, returning to the horse and resuming command of the caravan. 

Under the bright light of the full moon, we traveled for another ten or fifteen minutes, and then I saw a 

concavity in the ravine — a kind of limpet, which widened into a small cave. Within 

From it, a fountain rose from the ground, drawing a tiny lake, almost a puddle, where we took a bath. 

— despite the cold — and from where we collected all the water needed until the next opening. We stopped by 

There, we parked the cars, trapped the animals and set up camp. 

The route was abandoned after the destruction of Babel, but has remained preserved since then. In addition to the 

springs at regular intervals, a type of creeping grass, called by the ancients road-foot, grew 

at the base of the ravine. It was a very resistant plant, and its leaves were rich in vitamins and minerals. 

The taste seemed detestable, but its nutritional properties were enough to guarantee the 

survival of a man over a long period of time. 

When the Greeks, Flor do Leste and Tommaso withdrew, I climbed the three meter embankment and jumped down. 

off the trail to observe the desert up close. The rock plains, clearly visible in the reflection 

silvery from the moon, they reminded me of the barbaric lands of the Yu-chi, but without the high mountains and hills 

rocks that characterized the Afghan terrain so well. Instinctively, I looked up, and memories 

painful attacks attacked me. 

Fire in the sky. The blood that burned like oil. A clang of metal. Swords. Blades that 

they shocked. Battle screams. Heat. Hatred. The heart that cried out for justice. And the ground crumbling 

beneath our feet, a terrible force that was dragging us down, pulling us out, hurting us. 

Then the stars. The space. The cold. A hazy explosion. 

We fell, we plummeted and we could no longer fly. 

Abandoned. Expelled. Renegades. 

Matter succeeded the abyss. The earth. The sand that stuck to the skin. The wings stained with blood. THE 

shame that had turned into revenge. 

It was the expulsion of the renegade angels. They were my memories, my last and deepest 

memories of the insurrection and our subsequent arrival in the world of men. 

It had happened there, on those same plains, once called the Land of Nod, 2,500 years ago. THE 

desert was our starting point. To Haled, our prison. 

Disconsolate and persecuted, the renegade angels walked west together, escaping their 

executioners, until finding the devastated city of Enoch, submerged in the bowels of the world since the flood 

that he would liquidate. 

Spiteful and vengeful, the spirits of its inhabitants, who still roamed the rubble of 

sunken metropolis, accepted us into their refuge. They recognized us as enemies of the archangels and, 

with their astral energy, they raised a mystical covering, which hid the emanations of our aura 

pulsating. In that place, in that lost city, we would not be discovered and we would have time 

necessary to plan our entry into mortal society. We learn to hide our vibrations and 

We decided not to take off our wings anymore, in order to blend in with humans. The inscriptions, the 

Ancient works of art and documents taught us everything we needed to know about nature 

earthly. We learned to read and speak the language of Enoch, which formed the basis for all the languages ​​of the world. 

Earth. 

Enoch was our sanctuary, the first and last refuge of the Brotherhood of the Renegades, the place where 

that formidable group of warriors gathered for the last time. It was on the men's bench that 

we leave our divinity. It was there that we abandoned our glory. 

Enoch, the First and Last. 

In two or three days, the caravan would pass close to the cave that led to the underground metropolis. THE 

The emotion and nostalgia of those days called me back to where it all began. There were times 

difficult, but at least we were together, the eighteen renegade angels. 

Enoch, the First and Last. 

Visit to Terra de Nod 

The region of Nod, whose capital was Enoch, was the largest of the human nations before the flood, alongside the 

memorable Atlantis. The desert that surrounded it — the same one we had just entered — 

it was composed of a dark, rocky soil, formed by a unique type of volcanic rock. That 

terrain, which was once uniform, had suffered from the force of the waters of the cataclysm, ending up 

become a vast plain of rock fragments. The sand, carried by the wind over thousands of 

years, it accumulated in small craters, creating curious "earth pools", nicknamed by the 

Arabs of Hin-Kaban, Stone Cauldron. The accounts of the Canaanites, who referred to Nod as "a 

distant, haunted country, with black and devastated soil", may have originated from there. Certainly, if the 

Canaanites ever ventured into those parts, identified them as the target of a 

extraordinary devastation. 

The very next day after entering the hidden path, Pólix had improved significantly, but he continued to be apathetic. 

I already ate, slept and walked on my own initiative, but all our attempts at communication 

were frustrated. The boy had become completely silent and spent his mornings on the back of the cart, 

eyes open but expressionless. At night, I stared at the stars until I fell asleep. 

At dusk, a tall hill of black rock appeared in the east, and from the side angle it was easy to see 

its top. Instinctively, I stopped where I was, tightening my grip on Ibn-Hatar's reins. Tommaso and the first 

car were still far away, and no one noticed, at first, that I had stopped the steed. 

When the waters of the flood receded, Amael, the Lord of Volcanoes, raised from the ground of Nod a 

terrible gush of magma, a majestic explosion of lava that descended on the already destroyed foundations 

of Enoch. Debris from the eruption buried the rubble, burying the city forever under a 

disastrous hill. Chance, however, was generous in its architecture. There was still oxygen in the levels 

lower when volcanic waste closed the hole. Gases from the depths leapt to 

out, blasting his way through with devastating speed and strength. These paths drew a series of 

passages that, once the magma solidified, formed tunnels between the ruins and the outside world. THE 

main tunnel to the womb of Enoch rests below the black hill, at the end of a cave where the 

renegades, long ago, sought shelter on a stormy night. 

The hill. The cave. The tunnel. It was as if the years hadn't passed. 

Enoch, the First and Last. 

I needed to return to the cursed city, if only to make sure I wouldn't have to 

have returned. 

— I'm going away from camp tonight — I revealed. 

Tales looked at me confused, not knowing what to say. Night had already arrived, and Flor do Leste was preparing the 

dinner, while Tommaso fed the fire. 

— Are you sure this is absolutely necessary? — asked the old man, fixing on the floor, with a 

big hammer, the nails that would stretch the tent. — You know we need you here. 

— They don't need to. They don't need it anymore," I replied, at the same time I adjusted Ibn-I's stirrups. 

Hatar. — The trail remains safe and unchanging all the way to the Sinai peninsula. All that lies ahead are 

some forks and setbacks in roads, branches that depart from the main road. There's no way they can get lost. 

— Why are you telling me this? he asked, putting the big hammer aside. — There is some risk that 

make your return difficult? 

— I don't think so. In fact, I hope to be back before dawn—and I get on my horse. - Same 

So, there is no harm in the caravan leader knowing the coordinates. There is no mistake — I reinforced. — 

Just follow the route west. If I don't return by the end of breakfast tomorrow, you must 

continue your journey. 

— What if you experience a delay? 

A strong wind threatened to put out the fire, but Tommaso stuffed more wood under the fire. THE 

The temperature had cooled considerably, forcing travelers to wear thick woolen blankets. 

—Then I will catch up with you ahead. On horseback it will be easy to regain the lead. But I don't think there will be 

any delay. 

Thales sat down on a rock and stretched his back. Without Políx's help, the manual labor of assembling the 

The tent had folded, and Tommaso couldn't handle it all alone. 

- He is well. We will wait for you for an hour after sunrise. 

—Keep a regular guard shift, although I doubt anyone will ambush them. Same 

So, I would say that vigil is necessary — I added, remembering the tricks perpetrated by the 

hateful Zamir. 

— It will be done. 

I released the steed's reins, letting the animal go at a trot. The trail was flanked by steep ravines, 

easy to climb, but impassable to cars and animals. Therefore, the Babylonians opened, at each 

five kilometers, grooves in the ravines, where animals could hide the road. The rift 

The nearest was two hundred meters away - it rose gradually into the earth, curved and 

it ended in the dark plain of Nod. 

— Ibn-Hatar, do you see that hill, the black hill? — I breathed, leaning into the animal's ear, 

— we read to reach it very quickly, or else we won't be back by daybreak. Run, jump, advance. 

Invest. Today, the wind will show us the past. 

Enoch, the First and Last. 

Riding through those lands was like taking a leap back in time. 

The City of the Damned 

Enoch, the First and Last. 

The black hill stood before me, silent, awaiting my assault. Outside, I 

he stared, austere, determined and a little euphoric. 

I left Ibn-Hatar free in the plains. That way, if I didn't show up by daybreak, he could come back 

alone in the caravan. 

Furtively, I entered the Gruta dos Afogados, the name given by us, renegades, to the cave that opened in the form 

tunnel and led to the foundations of the earth. The large natural hall, designed by the force of activity 

volcanic, it was a suffocating place, despite its amplitude. A constant noise filled the gallery, under the 

form of a single cry of despair. It was the panting sound of the damned, the echo of the ghosts of 

Enoch, who drowned during the great flood and were still trying in vain to leave the 

submerged galleries. 

The tunnel at the end of the cave narrowed to a diameter of two meters and descended in a spiral fashion for a few 

kilometers, penetrating deep into the heart of the earth. At first, the moonlight continued to shine, but, 

As the passage progressed, the gloom was overcome by total darkness — it was a 

type of abysmal blackness, which only exists within the world. From now on I would only trust 

my keen touch, which would allow me to perceive the patches of heat that emanated around me. 

After a long descent, the tunnel opened into the glorious Path of Eternity, a very wide corridor, 

flanked by high walls and separated into two lanes by an extensive row of columns, called Pillars 

of History. In them, thousands of characters told the story of the lineage of the kings of Enoch, 

starting with Cain and ending with Lemék. The catastrophe had created a cavernous ceiling in the corridor, 

irregular and oblique. 

Beyond the Path of Eternity was the Gate of the Sun, a fifteen-meter gate, with a threshold 

inclined inwards and cut into the structure of the city's main wall. Above him was still visible the 

drawing of a tree with full leaves — the Tree of Knowledge, a symbolic reference to the 

predecessor of the entire human species, Adam. 

The breathless noise of the ghosts increased in that section, because that was where all the specters went. 

they were driving — towards the exit of the city. Everyone who, like me, could see the astral plane would see, beyond the 

fabric of reality, a spectral cloud that moved, trembling, along the Path of Eternity and into 

then headed back to Porta do Sol. 

Through the great door, a wide avenue, lined with ruined stone buildings, outside, when 

Lemék still lived, access to the royal palace. I stepped carefully over the unstable rock floor, full of 

open holes in the pavement. Some of those pits were so deep they reached the core 

planet, and a man would spend days in freefall before being stopped. Remains almost 

indistinguishable from human skeletons, reduced to piles of coarse dust, appeared everywhere 

— scattered across the ground, clustered in piles of rubble and piled up in buildings. 

The walk along the extensive avenue was the darkest point of my journey. Everything around me was 

composed of the same material, which hindered the perception of different heat spectrums. To the 

grayish spots, uniform with each step, indicated the existence of the volcanic rock all over the place. 

sides. It was then that, halfway through the crossing, orange dots appeared on the ground. I hurried to 

investigated, but it was not necessary to touch the liquid to discover that it was a trail of blood. Yet 

fresh, the drops followed straight through the opening, which at the end went from darkness to gloom, betraying 

the existence of a light source in the corridors ahead. 

I spread a drop of blood on the surface of my index finger and placed it on the tip of my tongue. To the taste of 

any fragment of organ, skin or secretion, a warrior angel is able to discover the identity of the 

prey, as long as it has already memorized its scent, as sniffer dogs do. 

I knew that blood! But how was it possible? 

My mind narrowed, searching for a goal. The Hall of Heroes! 

The final point of the passage ended in a vertical crack, the fissure of which opened into the wall of one of the 

many corridors of the royal palace. 

The Hall of Heroes was a vast, circular chamber, with a pointed ceiling, dimly lit by a large 

bonfire that burned right in the middle of the room, in the center of a round stone table, crafted for 

house twenty seats — one for each elder of the ancient families and two more for the king and queen. To the 

walls, also made of stone, were not divided into sections or blocks, because the entire room was carved 

from a single, colossal fragment of rock. Its walls, therefore, were indestructible and 

They kept the enclosure intact even during the horrors of the flood. Leaning against the walls, there were ten 

large statues twenty meters high, depicting the famous heroes who perished during the 

Mediterranean Wars, a series of conflicts between Enoch and Atlantis, which culminated in victory 

of the latter. 

I entered the Hall of Heroes, and my pupils constricted at the sight of the flames. Across the table, 

Sitting before the fire, a black, corpulent shadow leaned, injured, on the surface of the table. He had 

angel wings, huge white wings streaked with blood. 

Hazai — that was his name —, the great captain of the renegades. A strong, skilled warrior, 

black skin and long curly hair. Second in command, Hazai helped me organize all the phases 

of the conjuration, which ended with our expulsion from the Seven Heavens. In his heyday, he was the one who, for 

He had often commanded my legion in battle—he was the only one I would trust with my troops. 

When the renegades decided to separate, Hazai went to Egypt, while he went to Babylon, 

and Ishtar, to Ur, in Chaldea. Others went to the East, some preferred to cross the ocean, and 

there were also those who headed to the glaciers to the north. 

The blood I had found in the tunnel was really his, from a renegade angel, and that was why I couldn't 

I could feel his presence as I approached through the rubble — Hazai had learned, like me, to hide his 

emanations of his pulsating aura. But unfortunately, that wasn't enough to save him. The captain 

rested in front of me, wounded, at death's door, head down on the stone, still holding 

Firm the hilt of your mystical sword. The wings folded inwards, as if protecting the body. 

insulted. He hadn't noticed my entrance or even moved, but I could hear his breathing and 

the slow beat of his heart, so he knew he was alive. 

I approached slowly, a little sad, a little angry and also a little surprised. Never thought 

that my impulsive visit to Enoch would bring such surprising revelations. What kind of fatality do we 

had united again, captain and general, precisely in that place where death and suffering were everywhere. 

corner? 

I knelt down beside him and laid my hand on his broad shoulder. The scarred wings expanded, and Hazai 

he slowly raised his head, bewildered by the pain. He had numerous cuts on his face and one of his eyes. 

it was swollen, certainly due to a very strong blow. 

— Hazai... — I whispered gently. 

He didn't have the strength to react euphorically to my presence, so he smiled shyly. It was the 

the most I could do. 

— General, you're back. My mission is accomplished. 

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I deduced, at first, that he was delusional. 

— Hazai, what happened? 

— What has been happening to all of us, my lord. They found me. I thought I could... — he 

He stopped and spat out some blood. — I imagined I would be able to live forever, hidden, but 

they know everything. They managed to discover my trail. 

- Who? Who was your hunter? 

— The prey. They were raped, by direct order from Miguel. 

The prey. I knew them well, as their fame was magnificent. Main servants of the archangel Michael 

for hunting and murder, the prey were two powerful cherubic warriors, as vile and cruel as their 

teacher. Their names were Zambil and Marilli and they always attacked in pairs. His combat strategy was 

unique, cowardly, which made them practically unbeatable when they loved together. They wielded 

exuberant mystical, golden spears, as fearsome as the usual swords of the celestial legions, and not 

They rarely threw them at their enemies, not giving them a chance to fight. I was sure that 

Hazai had been hit from afar by one of those spears, as not even the prey would have the courage to 

face him up close. 

The prey, I repeated in thought, as if I could shorten my revenge. 

— They say angels don't dream, general — the captain struggled. — We never sleep. But 

yesterday, when I arrived in this room, crawling through the tunnel, I had the impression that I had seen something. I don't know 

whether it was a hallucination or a prophecy, then I decided it wouldn't hurt to believe it. 

He coughed, a harsh cough that ripped his throat, and for a moment I thought he would lose his mind and 

I would plummet forever into the precipice of unconsciousness. But Hazai had a demand to fulfill, and it was 

It was then that I realized I wouldn't die without completing it. Without saying a word, I waited for him to continue. 

— I saw an extensive field, a field full of troops of angels. I dreamed of the Day of Adjustment 

Accounts. Many celestials were there, many who had not joined us in the past, but in whose hearts 

the ideal of justice emerges. They will have a second chance, my lord — he looked at me 

deeply, and I saw the captain's old strength emerge like an explosion. —And you will command them. THE 

The virtue we sow will spread, and our entourage will become a legion. It's the Legion of 

Renegades, the heritage we leave to the world. 

I heard his voice dwindle, reduce to a muffled murmur. 

— I'm not a malakim, general — he continued. — I have no precognitive powers. But I like 

to think that perhaps Yahweh granted me this last grace, bringing him back to my presence. 

When Hazai paused for breath, I thought that was all he had to say, but his 

speech had barely begun. 

— How did you know where to find me, Hazai? Why did you insist on finding me after being mortally wounded? 

injured? 

I still didn't quite understand the meaning of it all. 

— Some spirits told me that you were returning from the East. I was told that the Angel 

Renegade had left Rome and was heading towards China. That's almost fifty years ago. I imagined 

that you would take this path and pass near the Land of Nod. I know that for us it is very difficult 

resist a visit to the ruins. Enoch is our home, the only place in the world where we are 

completely safe. 

— Is that why you came here? To escape death? 

— No, my leader. My death is inevitable. I've lost a lot of blood. But I needed to find him 

any cost. I had already planned this before I was attacked. On the way, however, I traveled in a hurry 

and I was careless. That's how the prey found me. 

I shook his hand, certain that his sacrifice was not in vain. Hazai had put himself at risk for me 

meet again, but why? 

— Why, Hazai? For what purpose? Why was it so important for you to have me before—" 

to die. I swallowed the word. I didn't want to prophesy the captain's departure, even though I knew there was no 

salvation for him. 

— This is my quest. And the mission I have carried for so long: to find my commander again 

and warn you about the enemy. 

I waited in silence until he spoke again. From that point on, it became obvious that something 

A thunderous revelation was about to be revealed. I felt the renegade's hot blood flow 

between my fingers. 

— There is something you need to know, my lord. One thing that happened after our departure from Enoch. 

That was about three thousand years ago, I calculated. The capital of Nod had achieved splendor between 40,000 and 

12,000 a. C., more than ten thousand years before the rise of the Egyptians and Babylonians, both civilizations 

that flourished after the flood. 

— I left this sanctuary and wandered to Egypt, I didn't expect to find any more renegade angels 

before Judgment Day, but shortly after, when I had already settled in the Fertile Crescent, 

I decided to continue my journey and followed the course of the Nile towards Nubia. It was on this path that I found 

Ishtar. 

— Ishtar? 

— She was looking for you, general. She flew with her angel wings, crossing the skies, desperate to 

to see him again, without giving importance to the danger he was in. He traveled as a celestial through a land watched over by 

agents of evil. 

- Yes! I caught her cry for help through the fabric. I followed his trail and went to meet him at 

Babylon, but the enemy found her first. A dark angel — the painful memory came back like a 

stab in the heart —, an angel with black wings. I don't know what kind of creature it was or who it was for. 

worked. And I couldn't save her, Hazai. I failed to protect her. 

I had never really forgiven myself for Ishtar's death. 

He smiled weakly, as if disapproving of my martyrdom. 

— You gave us freedom, my leader, and that is a thing worth dying for. We are 

cherubs, and death accompanies us wherever we are. Our nature pushes us to fight and 

prevents you from retreating into combat. We were created to die, so we shouldn't mourn Ishtar's death 

nor mine. She perished chasing a purpose, and now that I have found it, I can give 

pursue your desire. 

He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear: 

— Ishtar was not hunted like us. She was murdered. His death was ordered. 

"I don't understand," I argued. Hazai's words sounded disjointed to me. 

—Shortly after leaving Enoch, Ishtar discovered something, a big thing, a conspiracy that 

apparently involved heaven and hell. A plan that could plunge the world into chaos and threaten the 

existence of Yahweh himself. 

Like this? — was the first thing I thought. No one or anything in this universe would have the power to 

stand up to the Creator. That was a ridiculous hypothesis. But then I remembered Ishtar and her 

unshakable will. She had died for it; He had died for me and for the renegades. He would die for something 

believed. And that's why I decided to believe too. 

—But who? Who are the architects of this conspiracy? 

—She didn't tell me. Ishtar knew that my existence would be threatened if I became aware of 

of the details. She decided that she would only tell this secret to you, my lord. It was for this reason that they 

executed it. 

I gently raised my head, and our eyes met, converging on the same thought, 

to the same conclusion. 

— You threaten them, my leader — instigated the captain. — I don't know why or how, but whoever it is 

who is behind this collusion sees you as a dangerous obstacle. They murdered Ishtar because 

They were afraid that she would tell him about this plot. 

The captain's brotherly grip loosened, and I felt life leaving him. 

It was then that something unexpected happened. A solitary golden ray burst through a tiny 

crack in the ceiling, and that single beam lit up the entire room. The darkness that swallowed the halls bowed to 

grandeur of the sun — a new day was rising on the surface. 

At that moment, I was witness to an event that I would never forget. Suddenly, the screams of 

Specters, which I had become accustomed to ignoring, fell silent. In the sunken city, the ghosts were in 

all the chambers, screaming in despair. But the sun came out, banishing the darkness. The spirits 

they fell silent. For a brief moment, they did nothing, and when I looked at them I understood why. 

"Hope," Hazai groaned. — They are the damned, general. They saw their nation being devastated. 

They saw their children killed, their land destroyed. Upon them, the guilt of all humanity weighs. 

But they still have a tenuous will left. Perhaps one day they will be freed and can finally go to the 

paradise. There where the sun shines. 

Little by little, the lightning began to lose strength, and the room retreated into darkness. I then realized that the 

dawn was the only time of day when the sun found the right angle over the black hill and 

penetrated the underground. 

The captain observed the spirits, who tried to embrace the jet of light, but it had gone out. 

— They are the archangels — Hazai hissed, staring at the pyre that was burning in the center of the table. — While they 

rule heaven, men and angels will live tied to the shadows - he warned, and gathered forces for a 

final plea: 

— General... When the seventh day comes to an end, it is likely that you will be the last renegade angel. No 

give up. 

Those were the last words I heard from Hazai. He could have survived for two or three more 

days, but his distress would be tremendous. The energy in his aura dispersed, and in the spiritual world, there was 

a majestic explosion of light, which threw sparks and brightened the room, only to be absorbed by the 

fabric of reality and incorporate itself into the continuum of the universe. Before dying, Hazai sighed twice, 

and during that time I could have replied. He could have given a powerful speech, honoring 

thus his torment. But when I saw him faint, oratory abandoned me. Ishtar and Hazai died 

pursuing the same mission. They did not intend, like me, to return to the Seven Heavens and depose the 

archangels. They didn't want to be martyrs or heroes. They didn't mind dying, as long as their virtue 

was passed on. They trusted me, perhaps more than I trusted myself, and that's why they risked their lives. 

I would carry them with me if I could; would take both their bodies back to paradise, so they could be 

acclaimed. But that was impossible. His values, however, would live forever with me, The courage, the 

honor, truth, justice. The renegades would always be fighting at my side, whether they were alive or not. 

dead. 

The Impossible Happens 

Riding against the wind, I reached the secret route in the late afternoon. In the twilight, I saw the two 

carts parked next to the ravine that marked the path. Tommaso finished assembling the 

tents while old Thales stoked a fire. In a further corner, Flor do Leste 

he served spoonfuls of watery soup to Polix, who swallowed them without showing any expression. 

Upon seeing me, the Chinese woman came to meet me, surprising me by closing her arms around my 

waist, in a fraternal embrace. She was tiny even for a 15-year-old girl, and her head was 

it didn't reach the hollow of my chest. I smiled, a little embarrassed. I had already faced angels, demons and 

spirits, but suddenly I didn't know how to act in front of that immaculate face. Finally, everyone came together 

to the heat of the fire. Thales had the map in his hands and opened it in the light of the fire. 

—The trail goes around the Persian Gulf, where the waters of the Tigris River join the Euphrates — I explained. — 

In ten days we will have crossed the entire south of Mesopotamia, definitively leaving the borders of 

Parthian Empire to enter the territory of the Nabataeans. 

— Next comes the great desert — completed Tommaso. 

— It's usually the quietest part of the trip. The route goes straight, and the ditch retains the moisture in the sheet 

underground, leaving the air less stuffy. With smiles, we will be able to cross the desert in a month. 

Thales consulted the map once again. 

— Is there some kind of magic involved in this? 

— In what exactly? 

— It's hard to believe that we will cover this distance in a month. I've been traveling the world since I was very young and 

I know that even an army on a forced march would only take thirty days to cross Arabia. Deserted. 

It's only natural that as a guide I had the answer to that question. But I had never thought about that. AND 

It is clear that the illusory image through which we passed at the entrance to the road was produced by a spell, 

but there was no evidence that Zamir had cast a spell on the path itself. However, 

the old man's question raised an obvious question. 

— Really, the idea of ​​crossing a vast desert in such a short time is strange — and it was, until 

even for me. —But I don't think there's witchcraft around. The engineering techniques used 

by the Babylonians were fantastic. 

Even I don't understand them. Anyway, if there was an enchantment going on, I couldn't tell. 

how it works. 

—Is it possible that it has something to do with the gods? — insisted the merchant. 

—Probably not — I concluded, but soon after I was no longer so sure of what I had said. 

The Greek closed the map and resumed planning the trajectory. 

—And where does this secret path of ours end? 

— Near the port of Eilath. 

Eilath was a port city on the shores of the Gulf of Acaba. Merchants from all over the world, including 

Greeks, knew the location well, or at least had already heard of it. 

— There, we will have to exchange the carts for camels, because we will no longer be able to count on firm ground 

of the hidden trail. Then we will have twenty days left to overcome the Sinai desert and finally reach 

Alexandria. Then, our paths separate. 

Thales nodded and then stood up. He took Polix by the arm and the two retired to the 

tent. The old man seemed slightly more serious that night. I'm not a telepath, but it was easy to understand 

that the insinuations of the oracle still disturbed him. 

The Stone Square 

Between December 23rd and 26th, close to the winter solstice, we left Parthia and crossed the border towards 

to Nabataea. This was the country of great deserts, which stretched across all of Arabia and eastern Syria, 

At the end of the path, the secret way became a tunnel, which sloped into the earth in a 

gentle angle, crossing a wide, cavernous passage. Beyond it was a natural arch, which 

It opened onto the side of a low hill, and at the end you could see sunlight. This was the final milestone on the road 

Babylonian, the last stretch designed and built by ancient men. A few kilometers away 

West was the Gulf of Acaba, and beyond it Sinai. 

In the city of Eilath, Tales managed to sell 20% of his merchandise. With the money, he bought more 

eight camels, making ten in total. We sold the two carts and the packhorses and disposed of all the 

remaining pieces on the backs of the animals, since, ahead, vehicles on wheels would only slow us down. 

On the fifth day of February in the year 2 AD, we took a ferry and crossed the recôncavo, 

finally stepping onto the hot and stony lands of the Sinai desert. 

For three weeks we wandered along tortuous paths, until we descended the mountains and came across 

with a dry field, with flat but stony soil. The earth beneath our feet was hard, and fragments 

gigantic rocks scattered across the plain made the trail winding, which was not a 

neither a hindrance to the camels nor to the skilled Ibn-Hatar. Road markings indicated the 

existence of a water supply station to the south, the well-known oasis of Feiran, which could not 

be more than three or four kilometers away. We decided to continue marching west, 

because night was approaching, and to camp as soon as we found a suitable place. I suggested that a 

of us to ride to the oasis before sunrise, to fetch the water we needed to 

complete the trip. 

Not long after dusk, the caravan, now reduced to ten camels and a steed, arrived at a 

natural square, quite wide, surrounded by high walls of light rock. To the west, the fissure continued in 

a passage that would lead to a field of soft sand. 

— We couldn't find a better place to camp — said Tales as he entered the stone square. 

His comment had not sounded optimistic. In fact, his tone was rarely pleasant. 

"The perfect place for an ambush," I said, more to myself than to anyone else. No 

I could deny what my warrior eyes were telling me. There were only two exits from the square, both long and 

thin 

—What did you say? — asked the old man. The light wind had confused my words. 

— Nothing. Here we will be protected from the cold of the night. And if there's a storm, these stone walls 

they must retain the sand thrown by the wind. 

Tommaso made a movement with the rein and the camel crouched so that he could dismount. 

— I'm going to fix the tents in that place — warned the Sicilian, pointing to a point where the wall 

it curved inwards, creating a kind of limpet. 

Thales turned to me. 

— If you are thinking about keeping your usual night guard shift, barbarian, I recommend paying extra attention 

tonight. This time I would risk replacing it myself. I don't want to be robbed in the final stretch of 

our journey. After this epic we have been through, I would be very disappointed if, right now, 

I would lose all my bronze. 

— Don't bother. I won't take my eyes off these hills until dawn. Is there something that doesn't 

I like this place. I don't really know what it is. 

I descended from Ibn-Hatar's back, always with my gaze fixed on the top of the wall. There was an evil nuance 

in the fabric of reality. 

—Are you going to ride to the oasis tomorrow? asked Tales, paying no attention to my omen. 

I began to loosen the straps that held the steed's saddle, freeing the animal from the grip on its abdomen. 

— Yes, right at dawn. I plan to be back before the sun peaks. 

Bad Omens 

The huts were set up next to each other, with their backs to the rock, under the protection of the hollow. 

of the south wall. When everyone was asleep, I climbed the wall and reached the top of the hill. There I stayed 

all night, attentive. I found a good vigil spot and huddled in the shadows, betting that neither 

even the smartest of cherubs would find me. As far as the eye could see, the region was 

immersed in profound silence. The night birds did not appear that night, and the snakes 

they preferred to stay in their lairs. Even the echo of the wandering ghosts that sometimes roam the wastes was 

suppressed in darkness. 

Before day dawned, I descended the hill and sealed Ibn-Hatar. A remnant of smoke still escaped the 

bonfire, and I put out the residue with a handful of sand. Tommaso would wake up soon to prepare 

the camels, and I should leave as soon as possible, so that I could be back by noon. Despite the 

bad omens the night before, the caravan was housed in a safe place. Observe the surroundings 

for hours with my keen vision and I was sure that no one was lurking in the fields. If any 

thief intended to ride in that direction, he would certainly still be behind the mountains - and I 

doubted that anyone, even driving a fast horse, would be able to reach those hills 

before my return. 

In the east, the horizon glowed crimson, announcing the arrival of the sun. I tied two big craters 

on the horse's back, with which he was supposed to collect water in the Feiran oasis. I put on a hooded cloak and 

I rode the sorrel. Before leaving, however, I saw that Flor do Leste was awake. In an attitude 

Unexpectedly, she left the tent, already dressed in traveling clothes, and walked towards me. 

—What happened, Flower of the East? I'll be back soon. 

She couldn't speak, but her features were clear. The little one didn't want to stay there, not without me, in that 

camp among the rocks. 

"It's okay," I comforted her. — You've been alone before, do you remember? Tommaso will take care 

of you. The Greeks will not harm you. 

But my arguments had no effect on the girl. So I concluded the logical. 

— Yes, I know, there is a bad feeling here, but there is nothing to fear. The trails here are empty. 

There are no bandits in the way. 

She didn't give in to my words and raised one of her hands for me to pull her into the saddle and carry her 

with me. 

- Very good. If you want to come, then get on — and I put her on the back, not behind me, but in front, where 

could catch her if she fell. 

I offered him a large scarf. 

— Put this around your head, in the form of a veil. Leave only your eyes uncovered. It will protect you from 

sun. Furthermore, we have to be quick and discreet. I don't think the Bedouins have ever seen any 

Chinese, so it's best that we don't arouse their curiosity. Time has become a crucial factor in 

our trip. 

She nodded, and we began our run to the water station. While 

As I rode, I kept thinking about what exactly Flor do Leste had felt that night. Would she have 

only noticed an evil aura shaking the fabric, or it would have foreshadowed something much worse, some 

terrifying event that had escaped my senses? 

Either way, I would be back soon. 

Contrary to what many foreigners might think, the Feiran oasis was not a place surrounded by 

palm trees, with a natural fountain in the center. It was, and still is, the largest of Sinai's oases. According to the 

Hebrew writings, it was with the impact of Moses' staff that water emerged from the rock, to satisfy the people 

thirsty man who, under his leadership, had escaped from Egypt. 

Feiran was more like a small village, and the men who lived there weren't very 

receptive to fair-skinned travelers, which they associated with arrogant Roman legionaries. We became 

approached by supposed guards, who looked more like bandits, and I felt relief when I understood that everything 

What they wanted was a measly fee for us to use the fountain. 

Thinking about the hard life of those poor things, I ended up paying more than I should have — nothing that bothered me. 

was missed. I filled the containers with plenty of water and in a few moments Flor do Leste and I were already 

returning to the stone square. We rode in the high sun, with the hot wind on our faces, contemplating 

landscapes so beautiful that it was difficult to imagine that they could be tarnished. 

My path was clear, and I walked it in peace. 

Then the storm came.