The Portal

Island, 1123 - Prologue

There was no guard waiting at Raoul's door. Faced with such power, what was the need, anyway? Who would dare enter? Gaetana knocked on the door. There was no answer. What am I doing?, she thought. Her breath pressed against her chest, fast and heavy. She took a step back. She felt the euphoria of someone who has just discovered something, but at the same time, she felt the insecurity of a beginner. He must already know... Hesitantly, she turned around and was about to leave, when she heard a hoarse voice coming from inside the room:

- Won't you come in?

Raoul opened the door, and Gaetana had to look up to meet his tired eyes, surrounded by recent wrinkles on his black skin. In just one day, he seemed to have aged ten years. He motioned for her to enter. He was already wearing his sleepwear, a long and simple robe. Gaetana felt embarrassed to see him in such an intimate moment. She remembered that she was just a beginner, a nobody, while he was the Qayid, the most powerful man on the Island.

Apprehensive, she took her first steps into the Qayid's personal quarters. Like most rooms on the Island, the walls were white, matching with the light curtains and the warm, glossy wood floor. Although the formal meeting room was very close, just by the end of the hall, Raoul's room also had a heavy mahogany table surrounded by chairs for guests. She quickly wondered who would be important enough to be received there. A carved, dark wooden double door led into the bedroom. It was ajar and Gaetana could see a large four-poster bed with untidy sheets, old books on the shelf and dozens of documents spread across a second, smaller, messy table. With a quick movement, Raoul closed the bedroom door and walked to the balcony. She followed him.

From the balcony, one would have the beautiful view of the Island at night, but it was the time of the black moon and nothing could be seen. The sea covered gently the sand and the sound of the waves coming and going gave the impression that they lived a moment of peace. He sat in a comfortable white chair and she did the same.

- I am astonished by your visit at this hour - he said. - We had a busy day. I had long meetings. You never came to see me.

What to say? How can I justify my actions?, thought Gaetana. Should I admit that I was afraid? Should I admit that I didn't knew if I was right? How could I have been so negligent?, she wondered. She ran her sweaty hands over the folds of her skirt, trying to calm herself.

- Girl, I'm a curious man. I felt that if I didn't call you soon enough, you would give up on what you came here to tell me. You've already done the hardest part, do you know? Knocking on my door at this hour, especially after a day like this, honestly ... - Raoul laughed abruptly and rubbed his temples. She had watched him from a distance all day, distributing orders, his grave countenance, his resounding voice, his upright posture. But now, in front of her, there was a man bent over his knees, his long fingers supporting his forehead. He was laughing at some secret joke, something she didn't understand, or it could just be the exhaustion. Still, his unexpected smile encouraged her.

- Qayid ... I need to talk about the girl - she announced.

He sighed and Gaetana thought, for a moment, that his full lips were trembling. Everyone on the Island knew that Merab had been Raoul's favorite, and especially how he had tried to protect the girl. Without warning, he got up and went to a large white marble cabinet. As he poured himself a shot of fire-colored malt, he asked:

- What about the girl?

- I saw her in a dream.

With his left hand, Raoul squeezed his eyes tight while his right hand lifted the full glass. Even from afar, Gaetana could feel the intensity of his grief. Realizing that she might have given the wrong impression, she hastened to say: