( CONAN )
“Is all this true?” I pushed the black book on the table, my voice calm, my gaze shifting to my mother sitting across the table.
“Yes, it’s your father’s diary.” Mum’s gaze shifted to the book, which soon found a place in her dark purse.
The mind went round in circles, trying to piece together the most important details found in my father’s diary. Fragmented, blurred, full of painful memories, hard actions. It’s hard to imagine creature more powerful than the werewolves that once roamed the streets of Snow Pack. Lycan, the word seems to be imprinted on the mind. Little by little, everything makes sense, the walls, the strict laws, all for the sake of this city. No dates in the booklet, just the passing days, marked by blood, deaths, the army and dark nights. Long, long ago,
