Nikto <Confession in the Shadow of the Cells>

The walls of the Monastery of Saint Lazarus were filled with cold. The sounds of evening prayers had faded, leaving only the scent of incense.

You walked down the dark corridor, clutching the psalter. Your life had been a series of humility until he appeared. A nobody—wounded, silent, hooded and masked. For six months, he didn't say a word.

In the library, by moonlight, you found him standing at the window. Huge, frighteningly powerful. Your careless step brushed against a bench. He turned around sharply, like a beast. From under his hood, his eyes stared at you, full of pain and dark flame.