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D I S T I L L E R Y  D I S T R I C T,  D U N W A L L
5th Day, Month of Harvest, 1844

“Yes, I know it is dangerous what I'm asking you to do, but our profession requires dedication and sacrifice. If you bring me the story of the Bottle Street Gang, I assure you, we will welcome you into the Dunwall Courier with a kiss. I already see a lot of potential in you. With me you will have the chance to blossom!”

–AN LETTER BY CORYDON WOOD, Dunwall, Gristol, 1844
found in the belongings of Mathias Brewster

NO CLUES:

A man stood in the shadows of the backstreet. His tall appearance hid under a black heavy trench coat. The brim of his black hat obscured his eyes. The combination of dark colors made him merge with the shadows of the apartment building behind him. He leaned on his cane, to take away weight from his right leg, which hurt more today than usual. Perhaps a sign for a change in the weather.

His dark brown eyes were scanning the street ahead. It was morning and the street began to fill with people heading to work or at the market. A City Watch patrol came through from time to time, always the same two young guards. When they passed too close, he retreated further into the darkness.

His hand reached into the brown jacket under the black one, his fingers brushing the cold metal handle of his pistol, but he let it go. This was not the right place for a fight.

His eyes were fixed on one spot a group of local children had gathered. Most of them had their breakfast with them, then they began to trade it among themselves. His attention went to one of the girls, she was sitting on the curbside, clutching a doll wich had disheveled hair. A few golden curls fell into her face, the rest was carefully tied with a yellow ribbon at the back. Frequently, she looked down at the doll and stroked back her hair, then smiled with pride as if the doll were her greatest treasure. A girl with black hair sat down beside her and held out a piece of apple. Grateful, she took the piece and ate it.

At the same moment, a window opened in the middle row of the building behind her. A woman with the same golden hair looked out and called, "Little bee, come in. Breakfast is ready."

As the woman's gaze roamed the street, she smiled contentedly. Even from this distance he could see that her face was gaunt, too gaunt for his taste. An image of how he remembered her flashed before his eyes, with full red cheeks and the same warm smile on her lips. Her brown hazel eyes watching him curiously.

The man retreated deeper into the darkness before she spotted him. He clutched the handle of his cane tighter and clenched his teeth until his jaw began to tremble.

The girl stood up and knocked the dust from her pants with one hand, pressing the doll against herself with the other. Both girls waved to each other before she spun around and disappeared into the building.

At least fifteen minutes passed in which the man continued to stare at the open window, hoping she would look out again. However, he knew that now was not the time to hope for something. He had a task to take care of and he knew that his boss was already waiting impatiently for him, and he had better not keep him waiting.

With his free hand, he first pulled his coat into place and then his hat and then returned the way he came. With his thoughts deep in old memories.

It was the next morning and Nicholaus sat at his table, leaning with his forearms on the table. A mug with hot coffee before him. He enjoyed a few sips before leaning back. With both hands he stroked his hair back and sighed in frustration. He simply could not believe that she left. And he had not noticed it, because he was so tired yesterday that he had slept through like a rock.

The Doctor had mended the stranger, Janet, while Nicholaus watched him. When the old man was done, Nicholaus bandaged her wound while the Doctor cleaned his instruments. He took her to his apartment and had to change her wet clothes. He had two hours of sleep until his next shift. To his regret, the gangers were also very defiant yesterday and up for a brawl with the City Watch. His gaze flitted over his arm and Nicholaus had to growl at the realization that one of the bastards had caught him on the arm with his knife.

And now she was gone, left without a word. But what did he expect? He would have been disturbed and afraid, too, if he would wake up in a stranger’s apartment with a wound in the side. No, he did not resent her. He had no right to do so.

With a few more sips, he emptied the cup and placed it in the sink. Then he went to the bathroom to wash and took the last pair of clean clothes from the shelf. Tomorrow he really had to go to the washhouse. He reached for the cloth bag in the lowest shelf and stuffed all the dirty clothes into it. As he was about to finish changing, someone knocked on the door.

With languid steps, he walked toward the door and buttoned his shirt, asking, "Who is it?"

Someone with a deep voice tried to speak in a high pitch, "Hello Mister Brewster, I saw you at work yesterday and I think you are my prince charming."

He knew exactly who he was trying to imitate. Nicholaus had to grin and then rolled his eyes, fastening the last button. "Idiot." he whispered in amusement and opened the door.

Milorat stood in the hallway grinning broadly, in full City Watch uniform. He tried to speak again in his high-pitched voice that sounded really silly, "Mister..."

But Nicholaus cut him off, "What, are we back in kindergarten?" Then Nicholaus noticed the dark spot around his left eye, it seemed swollen. "Nice flower you have there, you didn't have that yesterday."

Milorat just shrugged, "Aldus actually managed to punch me yesterday. I'm a little proud of him."

Nicholaus turned around and grabbed his coat.

"You don't look very fresh these days either. Late nights?" Nicholaus could hear Milorat's emphasis and grin in the last two words.

"Something like that." Answered Nicholaus and put on the metallic collar. He grabbed his pistol and sword and then they both went out onto the street.

Nicholaus was glad, for once, that his workplace was on the same street as his apartment, so it was only a short walk to the estate of Stoten Kaylock and his daughter Lenora.

Stoten bought the building shortly after the rat plague and then ordered its renovation. During this time, he travelled back and forth between Potterstead and Dunwall to monitor progress. Stoten was a businessman through and through; He had set himself the ambitious goal of reviving the metal production of local businesses. Luck seemed to be on his side, now that many were rebuilding their businesses, metal was needed at every corner. His wealth increased, which allowed him to afford the fancy building on Clavering Boulevard. He was the single father of a beautiful but shy daughter. However, she seemed to feel comfortable in the presence of his small squad and always showed up to talk to them. To Nicholaus' surprise, she kept approaching him the most. She just avoided Captain Lynde, whose stoic sternness seemed to intimidate her.

Nicholaus and Milorat turned into the path that led to the house. An elaborate fence separated the property from the street. A well-kept garden before the house, on which Kasymir patrolled. He nodded to them when they noticed him, Milorat punched Nicholaus once lightly in the side, and then went to patrol with Kasymir. Captain Lynde stood on the balcony above the large front door, overlooking the street. Nicholaus walked in and was greeted directly by the house servants, who buzzed around like bees to fulfill their tasks.

Dennis leaning casually against the wall opposite the kitchen, talking with a young servant. He showed her the cut he had gotten on his arm, presumably in some heroic deed. The girl seemed completely under his spell and caressed his arm with both hands. When he noticed Nicholaus, he broke away from the conversation, blowing her a kiss. She giggled. Her cheeks got a slight blush then she quickly disappeared into the kitchen. The young man, with a big smile on his lips, came right up to him.

"Hey man, Lynde wants to see you." Nicholaus nodded at him and then turned toward the stairs. It was a two-story building, furnished with the finest quality. The staircase was in the middle of the building, the rest was arranged around it. The second floor around the staircase was open, only one corridor led along the walls. The ceiling had a large ornate window in the middle, the sun's rays projected the pattern onto the floor below. He could hear Stoten's friendly and open-hearted voice from one of the rooms, directing some servants to move furniture.

Nicholaus stopped at the open door and knocked on the doorframe. Stoten turned around.

"Good morning, Sir Kaylock." Nicholaus greeted him.

"Ah, yes, Sir Brewster, it's good to see you." Stoten was a tall man with a lanky body. He had short brown hair, which was combed back and he wore an gray suit of high quality of the same brand Milorat always wore from Drapers Ward. Round glasses sat on his nose. With one finger he pushed the glasses up a little, then he turned back to the servants. Beside him stood Tarrant, his personal bodyguard.

Tarrant was a young man who had already collected plenty of scars on his body. In yesterday's fight with the Bottle Street, he conscientiously charged forward to shield Lady Lenora and then helped push the gangers back into the gutter. The young soldier was a man of few words, however, his look always said more than enough. His reinforced clothing was impeccable and his hand always rested on the hilt of his sword at his hip. His light blue eyes bored suspiciously into Nicholaus, seeing danger in everyone.

Nicholaus continued down the floor and then opened the door to the balcony.

“Good morning Captain, you wanted to see me?”

Captain Lynde turned around: “Brewster, yes.” He pulled out a letter from his jacket and held it out to Nicholaus.

The guard took it and opened it right away, reading through the contents, he cursed, "This damn boy."

"Does your brother tend to get involved with gangers often?" asked Captain Lynde, crossing his arms.

Nicholaus lips became a thin line, he furrowed his brows and then sighed. His shoulders visibly slumped, "No, he's a total bookworm. I don't understand what's going on with him lately."

Captain Lynde’s gaze locked on Nicholaus. He slid the paper back into the envelope, then he felt the hand of his Captain on his shoulder.

"You are my best man, Nicholaus. I know you will take care of this. You may leave early today to get your brother out of the brig. Let him languish in the cell for a while until then. He will have enough time to think about everything. Maybe it will scare him enough."

“Thank you, Captain.”

Lynde nodded with satisfaction and turned back to the road, leaning on the railing with both hands. "All right, let's get to work and let’s hope the shift goes a little smoother than yesterday."

Nicholaus left Captain Lynde alone on the balcony and went back inside. He stopped in the floor, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, rolling it left and right, with a hope it would relieve some tension from his neck, which has built up in the last days.

“Good morning Sir Brewster,” a sweet light voice addressed him. A fine smell of lavender lingered in the air. He turned to the voice and opened his eyes. Somewhat more hesitantly, she added. “You look tense.”

“Lady Lenora, good Morning.”

Lenora was slightly smaller than Nicholaus, filled out in just the right places, he could not deny that. Her brown hair was pinned up, a dainty hair clip preventing her bangs from falling forward, she wore a light-lavender-colored suit with an overlong jacket that made it look like she was wearing some kind of dress. Her blue eyes watched him curiously.

"Does it have anything to do with the letter?" Her gaze slid down to his hand, in which he still held it.

"Eh," he folded the letter and slipped it into his pants pocket "It's not that impor-"

Her hands shot up to her face, "I'm sorry, it's not my business, I didn't mean to seem too nosy."

Nicholaus had to smile: “It’s fine Lady Lenora. It’s just about my brother, nothing I could not handle.”

The sight of his smile seemed to relax her, she smiled again too, but in the next moment her eyes were concerned.

"I was so worried about you yesterday. The confrontation with the Bottle Street gang looked so dangerous." She made a small step into his direction.

"We have trained for this. It's our job to avert any danger from you and your father. Don't worry about it." He straightened himself, folded his hands on his back and was about to say something, but then stopped when he saw Stoten peeking out of the room.

“Lenora, darling. Can you help me out please?”

She half-turned and nodded to her father, then looked at Nicholaus again. "Until later, then."

Nicholaus nodded at her, "Of course."

Dennis leaned on the railing on the opposite side. With one finger he pointed at Lenora, which was just about to turn into the room. In the next moment he made noisy kissing noises. Then he let his fingers tipple along the railing until he came to a stop at Nicholaus and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Man, she's totally into you."

"Don't talk nonsense." Nicholaus snorted, then he added: "You know, you and Milorat are really impossible!" He gave Dennis a little slap on the back of his head, with his cap almost slipping off. Dennis laughed and tried to ward off more slaps.

Both returned to their patrols, Dennis patrolling the right side of the main floor and Nicholaus the left. Nicholaus did not allow himself to be distracted by the servants, but he could not stop thinking about the beautiful stranger Janet. Somewhere there was a spark of hope to meet her again and he hoped she was well, considering the unsightly wound. Dennis, on the other hand, chatted cordially with almost every person who walked by.

The hours passed uneventfully. As the late afternoon approached, Lady Lenora made her way out of the house, a light-colored cloak wrapped around her petite figure. Stoten's personal guard followed her every step of the way.

 "Don't forget to stop by Mrs. Wendar, she has something for me," he could hear the voice of Stoten above.

 "Yes, Father." She called up and then stopped in the middle of the entrance hall, her eyes flitting around until she caught sight of Nicholaus.

Her hand peeked out from under her coat, and she waved at him, shyly. Nicholaus nodded his farewell, a smile at the corner of his lips. Tarrant, who opened the door for Lady Lenora, gave him a grim look.

Both groups switched places and after another hour Captain Lynde came up to Nicholaus and let him off the leash, as promised.

Nicholaus headed to the outpost near the Estate District, where they detained people with minor offenses, not important enough to necessarily send them to jail.

He was not sure how to handle the situation, especially since he did not understand what his brother was up to. Captain Lynde must have gone through some trouble to convince Major Abanese Commins not to squeeze his brother completely and to see it only as a low crime to enter a house with some Bottle Street gangsters and get caught. Still, he had to have a serious talk with Mathias and somehow bring him to his senses.

The guards at the entrance greeted him as he entered the large bleak building. Behind him, he could hear two guards on the street arguing about which one should bring in the boxes on the cart. As the door closed, their voices were muffled.

His footsteps echoed in the entrance hall as he walked straight towards the reception desk. Narrow windows on the walls let the last rays of the sun dance across the floor.

An older guard sat at it, leafing through a stack of papers. He was not bothered to look up at Nicholaus.

"Badge number and reason."

Nicholaus told him his badge number and pulled out the letter Captain Lynde had handed him. The guard took it and quickly skimmed the contents.

"Mhh, the Brewster boy. Good, you can go down."

As Nicholaus was about to turn around, the guard stopped him.

"Oh wait, he had this letter with him." He opened a drawer and pulled out a letter and held it out to Nicholaus.

Nicholaus took it and pulled the paper out of the envelope. Heavy paper, good quality. Reading through, he stopped abruptly and growled. His nostrils flared in annoyance.

"Corydon Wood?! Silly boy." he whispered. Of course, he was so stupid. Clearly, it had something to do with the Dunwall Courier. They were just hunting for the best stories. Corydon Wood was especially good at riding other people into the dirt, just to get a good story for himself, regardless of losses. Nicholaus knew how important it was to Mathias, how much he looked up to the people at the Dunwall Courier. They were heroes to him, bringing every dirty little secret to light, destroying the bad guys and saving the innocent with the power of written words.

He continued down the hallway, a large, reinforced door in the middle leading him down one floor.

A long corridor opened to him, bordered by many small cells. He saluted the guard and walked on, the guard following him. He passed two prisoners and stopped at the third. Mathias seated on the bench inside, his face paled the moment as he recognized Nicholaus, who shot him an angry look.

Nicholaus pointed to Mathias' cell, the guard nodded and then dug out a bunch of keys and opened the cell door.

"Come out," Nicholaus ordered. The guard moved away again to the exit.

With his head crouched, Mathias stood up and stepped out into the corridor, not daring to look his older brother in the face. His clothes and cheeks were dirty. His eyes swollen. He must have been crying.

Nicholaus pushed up his chin and snorted. Good thing, Mathias must have thought hard about his mistakes. Then he turned around, back up the stairs and out of the building. Mathias followed him on his heels.

The two guards from earlier and the cart were now gone. Nicholaus stopped and scratched his chin, then turned to Mathias, who was still staring at the floor.

"Are you alright? No injuries?" he asked and tried to get the anger out of his voice. His eyes flew over his body.

Mathias shook his head and clasped his own hands.

"Good." Nicholaus tilted his head and sighed, watching him for some more moments.

"Do you want to tell me something about it?" he held up the heavy envelope. Mathias' eyes widened and snapped to the envelope, he tried to reach for it.

"That's mine!" he protested.

But Nicholaus was faster, his hand shooting behind his back, out of Mathias' reach.

"This man, Wood. I know his sort of man, he's a bad influence."

"But he works at the Dunwall Courier."

"Working for a newspaper doesn't make him a saint. I'll have to pay him a small visit."

"But..." Mathias swallowed visibly.

Nicholaus crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "It's one thing to test a person for a job. Yet it's quite another to send a boy into the ranks of a gang to uncover some dirty secrets. Secrets have their price. Besides, Wood is just a small fish in the Dunwall Courier. There are other people who have more to say. Don't take his word for it."

In a smooth motion, Nicholaus tore the letter to shreds, the individual pieces slowly floating to the ground.

A thunderclap echoed somewhere in the distance, and they both looked up. Smell of rain in the air.

"Come, I'll take you home." He put his arm around Mathias' shoulders, turned him around, and they both walked away.

It took Janet most of the morning to find Lady Chauncey's estate again. Then she had spent the rest of the day sneaking around the estate to discover something that could help her understand yesterday's events. To her dismay, she found not a single clue.

All she could observe was that the servants were cleaning up the mess from the party and guests, who had stayed overnight, were leaving throughout the day.

Her side was still hurting badly, too. She gritted her teeth as the pain was once again unbearable and supported herself with one hand on a nearby stone wall. It was not easy to look normal. Passersby eyed her suspiciously and moved out of her way.

She was annoyed that all her belongings were with Lady Chauncey. Clothes and coins. To be able to take a hotel room one needed coins. It was also no help that she knew no one here in Dunwall. Well, except for the City Watch guard, leaning against the stone wall with her back, she buried her face in her hands and had to laugh.

There was no other choice but to make her way back, looking around she spotted a dark alley on her left. She scurried into the alley and looked up at the edge of the roof, it was quiet. The last rays of sunlight fought their way through the thick blanket of storm clouds in the sky. Soon it would be dark.

She focused her entire mind on the edge of the roof, in the next moment she inhaled and her body tore itself apart, like cloth that seemed to consist only of smoke. For a brief moment, the veil lifted, and Janet thought she could stare into the Void. In those moments, the Void was like a hungry beast that wanted to devour her completely and reclaim what belonged to the dark-eyed bastard. After a heartbeat, the feeling disappeared.

Exhaling, her body settled back on the roof. She slumped forward and found herself breathing and coughing frantically, her fingers reaching for support in the metal furrows of the roof. This was not good, she had to get to his apartment as soon as possible, or she would spend the night collapsed, on a roof. With shaky legs, she pulled herself up and slowly walked to the other side of the house. She had to climb up the incline and then slithered back down the other side.

That is what she had now, since the event in Tamarak, she hardly touched the gifts of the Outsider. Too much she feared to kill someone with it again.

The emptiness of the Void gathered in her and changed when it was united with her life spirits, turning to something else, something magical. She could never accurately describe this energy. When she closed her eyes, she could see the blue mana wavering around her. With her fingers, she could draw patterns in it, so dense it seemed around her. She had not noticed such an aura in anyone else except herself.

But with each stride the mana decreased and drained her completely. Left her with an emptiness that was different from the Void. An emptiness that hurt, like thousands of needles piercing first through the flesh, further into the bones, and finally into the soul itself.  She had to take breaks and wait for the familiar Void of the black-eyed, which slowly crept back into her body, making her whole again. To make matters worse, rain clouds were now gathering in the evening sky, bathing Dunwall in all facets of gray. People on the street below her also slowly moved to the warm fires in their homes.

Finally she reached the street with the guard's apartment. She leaned forward to make sure there was no one below her. In the right moment she caught a glimpse of a pair of guards who were just turning into an alley and talking. With one last stride she landed in front of his house and crawled through the open door into the dark hallway. No one had noticed her. At least she hoped so.

Her vision started to blur more and more, with each stride, so that it took her a few moments to dare to stand up. With one hand propped against the wall, she slowly walked to his apartment door and knocked. A squeak of a chair on wooden floor came through the door, then footsteps and with a clack the door opened. A streak of light fell on her face, the beam grew larger. She had to squint her eyes.

"By the Outsider, Janet! You look terrible!" she could hear his worried voice.

His hand rested on her shoulder, and he led her into the apartment, then he closed the door with his other hand. When he noticed how shaky Janet was on her feet, he moved closer to her and encircled her upper arms with his hands, gently trying to hold her upright.

He led her to the couch and let her sit down, his hands hovering over her arms as he did so, ready to help her if she could not make it on her own.

"We should go to the doctor," he suggested. "Or I could bring him here."

Alarmed, Janet shook her head and smiled weakly at him. "No, that's not necessary, I just need to rest." Her shoulders and head slumped forward. She propped her elbows on her knees and took a few deep breaths. "Just rest a little." She whispered.

He went back to the dining table and turned the chair around towards her, to sit down on it. Janet could feel his gaze on her. After a while, when she was sure that her surroundings did not start spinning again, she leaned back with her hands on her lap.

Although he radiated a calmness, Janet could see that his body was tense. He was still watching her closely, ready to dash forward to help her if necessary. He tried to look for clues in her eyes, but Janet could not withstand his gaze for long. Her eyes darted down to her fingers. Her own heartbeat and the crackling of the fire in the stove seemed far too loud to her now in the silence of the moment.

"I didn't expect to see you again." Nicholaus broke the silence.

"I thought... I cannot go back there. At least not now." Janet whispered, then looked up at him.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his lips became a thin line before he asked, "Why i found you in the waters of Wrenhaven? With an unsightly wound?"

Her head tilted down and she stared at the ground. Her eyes followed the grain of the wooden floor and she chewed on her lower lip, still playing with her fingers. Could she tell him? Someone had attacked her, not the other way around. The law was usually on the side of the victim and he was part of the law. What could go wrong?

Just as she was about to straighten herself up to answer him, she winced as sharp pain reminded her of the wound again. The chair creaked and immediately Nicholaus kneeled in front of her. His face was creased with worry.

"The medicine will help you through the night, tomorrow we should see the doctor." He got up, took the dark medicine bottle from the cupboard and walked with quick steps to the dining to reach for the plate, which Janet only now noticed. A slice of dark bread with cheese was on it and half a fig. He set the plate on her lap.

"Eat this first, the medicine did not work so good on an empty stomach.”

"But this is your dinner." Janet protested and wanted to put the plate back in his hand. With his index finger and thumb, he gripped the edge of the plate and gently pushed it back down.

"Please, eat. I guess you haven't eaten anything. I'm fine with the apple I still have." He reached for the cloth bag next to the table, fished out a red apple and bit into it, then pointed to the plate in her hand.

Tentatively, Janet began to eat the slice of bread. It felt good to have something in her stomach. During the day she had been so busy thinking about all possible scenarios and worries that she had completely suppressed her hunger.

Nicholaus finished his apple and poured her a glass of water. When she had finished the glass and the plate was empty, Nicholaus smiled at her with approval.

This time Janet even accepted the bitter medicine in eager anticipation. She wanted the pain to go away and last time it had helped wonderfully. He poured her two capfuls and then put the half full bottle away.

Nicholaus cleaned up and then turned around, leaning back against the sink, his hands clasped the edge, just looking at her.

"Back again to the question from earlier," he said.

Janet pulled her legs up onto the couch, her arm resting on the side rest. Better to have one ally than no one, she decided.

"I was invited to a party at the home of a noble lady. The party went well, I met some new people. Until..." she stopped and looked away. "Then there was this red grimace, a mask, I think. Grinning at me. A knife flashed and then I woke up here in your bed." she told him with a hushed tone.

"So you don't know who attacked you?" asked Nicholaus.

Janet shook her head and looked up at him again.

He frowned. His eyes lost in thoughts for a few moments.

"It could have been anyone who was at that party," he concluded.

Janet nodded to his realization. "Kind of pretty messed up. You come to Dunwall for the first time and right away someone is trying to murder you," she whispered, then laughed bitterly.

"They probably think you're dead."

"I suppose so."

Nicholaus pushed away from the sink and kneeled in front of her again. His hand rested on the side rest, his fingertips lightly brushing her arm.

"You should use that to your advantage."

"I was going to try today, but this damn wound..." frustrated, Janet narrowed her eyes.

"My place isn't exactly the biggest, and you'll probably need a safe place to sleep. So, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like. Cure the wound. There's no point in torturing yourself." He suggested and then waited for Janet to look at him before he added. "But I have one condition."

Janet gave him a questioning look.

"Next time you leave, feel free to say goodbye. Then I won't have to worry."

“I-I will. I promise.” An apology in her eyes.

Nicholaus nodded and stood up, stretching his arms up, then massaging his neck with one hand. Outside it was slowly getting night and a rain has started to patter against the windows.

"I'm pretty tired, what do you say, we head to sleep?"

"Yes, sleep sounds good." said Janet, looking at the couch. "I can sleep on the couch, then you can go back to sleeping in your bed."

But Nicholaus just shook his head. "No, as long as you have the wound, you should sleep in bed, you'll get the best rest there."

Then he turned to the bathroom. "I'll go change. You should do the same."

Janet pushed herself up from the side rest and stood up. The clothes she had folded in the morning were still lying where she had left them on the bed.

Just as in the morning, she felt quite awkward changing clothes. The pain twinged but the medicine makes it a little more bearable, with clenched teeth she dressed her clothes and slipped under the covers. Her eyes darted over the books piled on the floor. Many titels she did not know, with names that proclaim a longing for the sea. Her fingers stroked over a dark blue book cover. The leather was rough and worn with golden patterns on the edges.

"One of my favorite stories." His voice startled her.

He had changed his pants to dark cloth pants. His upper body was free. With his back turned to her, he reached for a long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over himself. Janet could not help but gape at his large back and wondering about the scars on it. Then he turned around and came toward her.

"What is it about?" She asked quickly.

He squatted down and grinned at her, "I can read it to you or you can figure it out for yourself." He picked up the book and gently stroked the cover, then held it out to her.

Janet had to think of her brother, normally she was the one who always got to read him stories, but that was too long ago. It made her heart heavy what Nicholaus seemed to see.

"We don't have to do anything, it's a story about..." he wanted to interject hastily but the touch of her hand on his made him fall silent.

"No, please. I would like to hear it from you."

He beamed at her now like a happy child and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

"It's my mother's favorite story, too, and my father's, but he would never admit it." He laughed and opened the first page. So, Janet fell asleep, to the sound of his voice and the soft pattering of the rain.

PAGE 1:
The boy sat on the edge of the cliff, the sea rushing against the rocks below him. Like something alive that wanted to escape the black depths. Above him, storm clouds gathered in the sky and the air filled with the scent of rain and salt.

The boy watched the waves, for him they were magical. It was as if the dark water tugged at his soul, as if he belonged to the water and not to the dry land.

Day after day the boy came to the cliff and watched the water. Sometimes from early in the morning until late in the evening. He remembered the day when he first saw a whale in the water, it seemed to swim directly towards him, its big dark eyes seemed to watch him, the boy thought it was the most beautiful day of his young life so far.

But on this day, he saw something else in the dark depths, a brilliant light in the middle of the water. It became bigger and brighter, until finally a white whale stuck its head out of the water. The boy could not believe it. He blinked his eyes once too long, and the light was gone. Only the dark waves were left.