A woman dressed all in white, from her long silky hair adorned with a few braids forming a false crown on top of her haughty head, to her long flowing dress decorated with symbolic letter-like patterns made of magical beads, not to mention her whitish skin and cold, greedy eyes. She walked with an affected nonchalance and in a strange way that would disturb any mind. Seeing Miron, and feeling as if she had been waiting for him for quite some time, she smiled grimly at him, and her pale eyes stared at him with morbid joy. Miron would have liked to escape from her quickly in order to have time to gather everything and to prepare himself for what he was going to face all night. But alas for him, that was not to be. Everything was probably going to turn against him tonight. And the woman at the origin of this tragic disaster had just revealed a carnivorous expression to him. Arriving in front of Miron, she stopped him with her magic, took him by the neck, and immediately tackled him against the wall of the corridor.

"There's the star of the game. How do you feel, darling?"

Her voice was even more brittle and ghoulish than the shapeless creatures in the park pond. Miron could barely shrug.

"Not as good as a second ago, Lady Kriniela."

With a slight frown, the white lady tightened her grip around the neck of her toy, who had already been abused for several days.

"Miron, you must know that I love your character infinitely, brave, arrogant, and rebellious. You are so different from the children who are here, who have been here, and who will be here again."

As she spoke to him, she slowly stroked his face, exhaling white smoke from her mouth.

"But there are limits to everything. I really didn't like the way you set fire to my office and with it some evidence of debt. Also, many people, too many for my taste, have had the chance to escape my power irreparably. This is bad, especially for my complexion, and very frustrating. You really shouldn't have done that, honey."

But in response, and to show his satisfaction at having done it, Miron, despite starting to asphyxiate, wore a small mocking smile.

"But I did it. And I don't regret it. And if I'd really had a choice, ma'am, I'd have burned you with it. "

Shaking her white head, the witch let her long hair swirl around them. Then, ceasing her sickening caresses, she leaned her elbow against the boy's neck.

"Arrogant little boy. Do you think you can go on like this? I am very angry with you. But if you would ask me for forgiveness now and on your knees, and if you would solemnly promise to fulfill my every wish, then I would ask Sirkol to stop your 'execution.

In a way, he thought, it would be the easiest way to save their lives, his and his whiny but brave friend's, but in the end, it would never be him. He didn't know from whom he had inherited such a will and a pride that bordered on recklessness, but it helped him to remain as himself for better or for worse. Thus, in response to the insensitive and repulsive proposal of his white tormentor, Miron stared at her for only a moment before sneering at her with disgust and cynicism.

"Poor old hag that you are, so desperate for youth and love that you can only pray for my affection and friendship with some semblance of hope of getting it. But I will never ask you for anything. And if for that I must fall and die in some terrible way, then I prefer it and by far."

The witch's expression became neutral, then she released her embrace.

It was said that this woman of a cadaverous whiteness and who loved so much this blinding color was native of the kingdom of ice named Kodorios that had seen the birth of the sovereign mother of the legendary prince Aiiley. Belonging to a noble family but without high rank, she had long been able to occupy only a function of maid of company of the queen. The latter, far from being stupid, had quickly understood the ambitious and unscrupulous nature of the new girl, viscerally frustrated by her low blood and her conditions. In spite of everything, she had decided to keep her close to her, precisely to have control over her. Alas, the harm was everywhere and too strong. A sorcerer who coveted the prince's power more than anything else managed to approach the white witch with the black soul and allowed her, thanks to his power, to reach the royal secrets that would finally allow him to appropriate the heir's supreme magic. The latter ended up losing much of this coveted power, the queen was heartbroken, and the white lady, victorious, obtained what she had desired all her life, power and freedom.

She fled the kingdom of Kodoros without asking for anything else and on her way heard about the misty city, the kingdom of dark magic. Sirkol saw in her everything he wanted to see in a witch and a woman. Since then, Kriniela had remained in this realm, which fulfilled all her wishes, but this did not prevent her from going out into the outside world from time to time to spread her terror and domination, and to exercise her gifts of manipulation on the weak. But in the end, she didn't have to force herself, let alone many people, to succeed in her plans, for harm was not limited to the city of mists, worse, outside its mountainous borders, it would seem that in its own way, it was even deeper, more subtle, more abominable.

Kriniela's only merit probably lay in the fact that she had never tried to hide what she was, unlike those others living under the light. But Miron hesitated to decide whether that was a good or bad thing.

Anyway, to get back to the present, she looked precisely at Miron with her black eyes and suddenly opened her mouth, equipped with sharp teeth, and tried to bite him. Shocked, the young boy struggled violently and managed to avoid the terrible bite just in time. Immediately, Kriniela began to glow an abominable sparkling red and to emit very powerful waves that shook the windows and transformed the long corridor into a moving realm invaded by shapeless beings that sprang up from all sides and had as their only order to catch the prey of their creator. The prey tried to escape as best he could, but he couldn't go far because the ground overturned and made him fall painfully. He was immediately seized and immobilized by the dark and bodiless beings of Kriniela, which approached with a threatening slowness and reached out to catch the young mage and bit him. Madly frightened and struggling again with all his strength, Miron to the slimy and repulsive hands of his tormentors who held him with bone-breaking strength and cruelty, Miron felt the bite on his shoulder. At first he was so shocked that he froze, unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to make the slightest movement, even a single blink of an eye, and then slowly, insidiously, the pain came, so excruciating that he opened his mouth to scream, but could only emit a weak rattle of agony. He thought that he would never recover from this pain, that he will die here, in this filthy corridor, under the infamous bite of this hideous witch. And then finally came the anger. A terrible anger like he had never felt before. Anger came out of his entrails, rising, growing like a devouring lava to invade all his body and give him finally the power.

"You know why I chose this night especially for the deadly tournament in which you will play to the death? the witch noted without loosening her teeth still embedded in the tender flesh of her toy. "Well, it's because it would be exactly thirteen years ago today that you came to us in Athok. At your place. One night of the full scarlet moon when we heard your screams echoing in the blazing space, and that was coming from a black-haired baby, with skin whiter than all the whiteness I was capable of. I will never forget it, nor will anyone else. "

Kriniela spoke and spoke, still unable to feel it. As the fury she had built up in Miron widened the crack that the object of the janitor caused in him, soaked in an unknown magic and yet familiar to his body, and engraved with the image of this young mage of a bewitching beauty who blew in his magic weapon not to frighten away the beasts but simply for the pleasure of doing them harm.

And then Miron heard a distant echo. He could see it. He was in a huge room, more sumptuous than anything he had ever seen in Athok's books. Someone was talking to him. A woman who was serving him.

"Young master, you could not go out until you were thirteen."

"Why?"

"Because you must know that by the time you reach that age, you would be strong enough to handle anything."

"I see. And I will be able to do anything I desire?"

"Yes, and even to do everything, in freedom, because your beauty will be immeasurable."

The slight vision dissipated and his breathing returned.

Then he put his hands on the shoulders of his tormentor, and clenching his teeth, ordered with a cold and furious voice.

"No! Let me go now, you old witch!"