Dacera shone in full that night, eclipsing her younger sister, while countless stars glimmered, the spirits of many ancient heroes and deities freed from the wheel. In the middle of the tent-village, men and women played their lyres and sang the songs of their people. However, one of them did not take part in the white night. A blond man, his hair tied in a bun, sat far from the rest, practising daicia. He seemed unmoved by the music.

After a while, a tall man that radiated authority left the circle and went towards the silent figure. “It does no good to remove oneself from the joy of life.” He said as he sat down next to him. “We don’t know how our next one will be, so it is better to appreciate the nights spent with other people, don’t you think, Nautari?”

He was used to the young foreigner’s eccentricity by then, but his ways did not cease to amuse him. The man would remove himself from society on purpose to meditate and would often complain about not having a way to write down his thoughts. He was a weird one whose only redeeming quality was an enormous resistance to being beaten up. Angi pitied him, and it was that pity, along with the promise of greatness the boy had within, a sparkling light in that soft and innocent mind, that moved him to take him under his wing. He would teach him how to behave like a man and face the hardships of the world. He would teach him how to ride like the wind and see the cruel truth that hid in men’s hearts. He would teach him how to live with pride.

So far, he had managed to make good progress in the art of riding, for a foreigner. If he kept that pace, he might even learn how to shoot a bow. He had also been stripped of those soft clothes he wore. They would do him no good if he was to endure harships. Angi’s men found the whole situation quite amusing, but even they realised this man from far beyond Aunara could become almost as good as them. Not quite, but close enough. And so they watched with curiosity.

“Now, won’t you come over to the fire and sing with us? I don’t think your gods will punish you for missing a night of prayer.”