The Eastern Empire

Chapter17: A Wind of Revolt

Winter was already approaching in Russia. Temperatures came down sharply, surprising once again the inhabitants who had to clutter under their thick coats. The sky was becoming white, as if the snow it was about to pour on the earth was massing over the heads of the inhabitants, waiting for its time. The night was dark, the moon could not pierce the mattress of clouds. One could move again without being seen, become a shadow of darkness and plotting at ease.

The night has always been the time for plots, plans, attempts. What can not be solved in the day is unleashed during these hours so secret.

A shadow was waiting in front of the front of a cafe known as the oldest in the city and perhaps even the country. His wide, thick cape hid his shapes and gave him an almost ghostly dimension. A second shadow appeared and in a breath the first question.

- This started ?

The young but confident voice, assuredly masculine, did not get an answer, but the shadow that was waiting outside the door of the Sureau cafe, closed for several weeks following the arrest of his boss, suspicions of links with the magi black, contented with a nod. The man came in and left the silhouetted figure, catching sight of a brown and curly lock that escaped from the wide hood. He knew that this night of October 28 was likely to change his life and felt almost as euphoric as intrigued by this meeting.

Inside, the coffee so quiet from the outside was crowded. All wore large dark cloaks and masked their identities with their hoods or carnival masks, which gave an off-beat look to this gathering, however serious and far from festive. The tables that usually furnished the main room had been pushed to the side and all kept their eyes fixed on the door leading to a small room. They were waiting for someone. The young man who had just entered leaned against the back wall, watching for the slightest movement. He was not yet sure he had a place among them, but he also knew that he could not go back, after that night he would be permanently engaged in this camp and become one of his fighters. He shivered. And to say that he could have been quietly sleeping, far from this inner turmoil.

The front door opened one last time to let through the figure that had been guarding the door for over an hour. She took a decided step towards the back of the room, towards the small platform where usually a storyteller, a musician or a show magician entertained the occupants of the cafe. His gracious step comforted the first impression of the young man, it was a woman.

She approached another shadow and whispered a few words in her ear which made the observer tick. He suspected that some of the faithful knew each other, but that made him anxious. He was afraid of joining a group already welded in which he could not find his place.

Leonty Kosa sighed. He had heard about this group the year before when he was still a student at Dumstrang. The seventh years murmured about him. A band of powerful mages, whose leader was unknown, who had been preparing for years to regain power to white wizards. This rumor, which was almost urban legend, had taken on a whole new dimension when he received an invitation to be part of this group. A simple letter that had led to a series of tests, increasingly difficult. He had to solve puzzles, follow a trail of clues that had led him to his guardian. The latter had not revealed his identity to him, he was hidden by a hood and had communicated only in writing, tracing his words with his wand to form letters of gold. He had met him when he was just out of school, but he had given him a final assignment that would definitely compromise him and would make him feel like switching sides. He had to eliminate a man when he was only seventeen.

He did not want to inquire about his target, or know why he had to get rid of it. Another wizard Leonty would have hesitated, but not him. He had already made his choice by completing the first tests and it was not a murder that was going to stop him, to give his country a chance to recover the balance of old. He had contented himself with following the one who had been designated to him, to observe his habits. He was a mature wizard who drank a lot. He seemed to be trying to compensate for the closure of Sureau's cafe by surveying the wizarding bars, but none satisfied him since he changed them every night. Leonty found him pathetic and was almost disappointed at not receiving a larger mission. What could this fool have done to back up such a group of wizards?