It’s a big house that speaks of ancient power and better times, still beautiful in its latent decay, rather isolated from the village. Somewhere among the dark spacious rooms, two voices, a man’s and a woman’s, are arguing bitterly about war, defence, military forces.
Then, a tiny figure appears, hidden in the shade of the silence otherwise covering the wooden floors. She moves furtively through the corridors, barely glancing at the direction where those voices are coming from. She’s used to hearing those discussions, but never really pays attention to them: she can’t understand those words, that only seem to weave obscure and distant sentences... She sneaks through the dim-light of the old rooms, at times illuminated for a fleeting moment by the nearly forgotten golden glares of countless decorations in the elegant shape of majestic dragons, until she reaches the front door and comes out in the warm sun.
She’s only a girl, dressed in the hues