The council of five was in a state of utter chaos. There was nothing cataloged about what to do if someone entered the city. They had all read the books in the library, nothing there would be of help to them now, sitting around a circular table at dusk, sharing their shattered opinions.

"We must know who he is," said a middle aged woman with a pointy face to the others.

"That does not matter," replied a grey bearded man slowly in a deep voice. "It is way more important to know why he is here!"

"We should not take any chances," interjected a grey haired, dark woman. "I find the safest solution for the City is to not wait for him to wake up at all."

At this, Philip had had enough and slowly rose from his chair where he'd been sitting quietly with his own thoughts. One by one, the others fell silent and turned their attention towards the tall bald man. He wore a silver-grey outfit bordered with purple stripes, showing that he was a man voted to the council by the people.

"The stranger is currently being treated at the infirmary and poses no threat to anyone. I have been told by the healers that it is a miracle that he is still breathing. He will, therefore, not be disturbed until he regains consciousness. When he eventually does however I suggest that we have all our questions answered in a hearing."

Pleased, the other four nodded in agreement. They would get their answers, regardless of the stranger's attitude.

<<>>

Despite his miserable odds, Verunt made it to the evening of that same day and opened his periwinkle blue eyes in a flutter. For a moment he thought himself to be in the forest. All around him was different shapes in white and he felt like the icy wind had moved in to his bones. Soon his eyes focused and the ceiling of a white, small room became visible. Above him hung the most peculiar lamp he'd ever seen. It was as small as a coin but had no trouble filling the room with a light slightly weaker than the Sun's. Amazed he stared at it until his eyes began to tear.

Reluctantly, Verunt turned his head to the left, and forgot to breathe. On the other side of a blurred glass door stood a tall, dark shadow. He sat up faster than he should have and the whole room sat of in a spin. He let out a groan and grabbed his head with both hands as he shut his eyes. From his right came a soft voice towards him, drifting like leaves in the wind.

"It's quite alright, you are safe here."

Slowly, this time, Verunt moved his head to the right. He swayed slightly and tried his best to keep his eyes focused. On a white chair in the corner of the room sat an old lady, as wrinkled as a morel and with hair the same white as the wall behind her. She wore a white cloak held together with an indigo ribbon and around her neck hung seven crystals, each a part of the rainbow. Verunt couldn't help but to look straight into her lively turquoise eyes as she kept talking.

"My name is Antheia. I am here to help, if you let me."

It could have been the calmness in her voice or the steady gaze from her eyes, but something about Antheia made Verunt trust her. 

"You need to drink this", she said lifting up a small, white cup from besides her. "It will help you get warm and make sure you get a good night's rest."

Verunt accepted the cup and held it for a while between his hands. Steam rose in swirls from the light brown liquid as a pleasant warmth spread through his hands. Cautiously he took a sip. It was surprisingly pleasant, sweet with an undertone of herbs he didn't recognize. A warm drowsiness engulfed him as he drank. After finishing the drink Verunt lay back in the bed and let out a big yawn as Antheia locked the door behind her.

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