The seven Masters had been summoned in the middle of the night to attend an urgent meeting in the Great-Master's office. Crawling out of beds, they had naturally forgotten all side manners and they ended up wearing colorful pyjamas in front of their superior. How embarrassing...
Only the Great-Master and the Counselor were properly dressed up: their night had never started, to be honest. The first one was standing rigidly in front of an ancient desk, without a feeling on his face, while the second was nervously playing with the edges of his long black robe, unable to stare back at his superior's severe glaze: for all Hearts, weren't they in a difficult situation!
One by one all the Masters took a seat, winding up uncomfortably perched on unstable parts of the furniture – the side of the sofa, a stool's edge, an armchair's armrest – constantly peeking to the door, as if they wanted to check their escape exit.
The unknown little Terrien, wrapped in a blanket and still deeply asleep, had sunk into an old armchair and hadn't moved since the two scouts brought them there. Their pale face, covered by dirty hair, was hard-edged by hunger and sufferance; their breath was short, out of sync, and it was the only sound in the room: one could hear a pin drop, while the night blurred behind the curtains.
The Masters nervously waited for the child to awake; even the elder First-Master, hidden in the dark back of the room, shared a tiny part of that curiosity, but none of them could find the heart to suggest waking them up by force. That would have been terribly inappropriate for such highly distinguished gentlemen as they were.
As dawn gradually approached, the Great-Master turned his face to the windows, staring at those thin lines of light that were spreading into the office. "It's about time..." He thought harshly. "We need to see their eyes in order to make a decision."
Then, a ray of morning light enlightened the child's face, finally causing them to awake, and all the impatience the Masters had felt was blown away within seconds when they finally opened their eyes. Everything was wiped out in the blink of an eye, every emtion, every last peace of babbling thoughts.
So much darkness in those young eyes...How could they bear it? How could they live with that mark? Imprisoned by tentacles of obscurity painfully embracing their minds, the Masters couldn't answer. Fortunately for them, the little-one was far too weak to face their judgment any longer: they sank into the cover, trembling, closing their eyes and letting the Masters pull themselves together.
The Master of Art leaned toward the child, trying to put on a slightly reassuring smile.
-What is your name, my dear?- He gently asked, tormenting the belt of his red smoking jacket.
No answer came.
-Which place do you call The-Land-that-I-know?-
Silence.
-Where is your Home?-
Little wrinkles of fear rippled the child's face, as they tried to find an answer.
-I don't know... if I have one.- They hardly signed, while their expression turned into pure dread.
-We will take good care of you, I promise.- The Master added, but the little Terrien didn't hear a word: they had already succumbed to tiredness.
"As if you even care...You don't need our help, am I right, little human?" The Master of Art sat back, relaxing his shoulders, suddenly sad, when a nurse brought away the child. "You'd probably be better off without us and yet here we are, pretending to save you when we are actually about to imprison you for our own safety ... I am truly sorry. I hope you'll forgive us, one day."
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