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"Are you still sleeping? Wake up, you're going to be late!" Izan's mother shouted.

Just by looking at them, it was obvious they were mother and son; the resemblance was striking. They both had the same unruly, curly hair that was impossible to comb in the mornings.

The fourteen-year-old boy jumped out of bed in surprise. His eyes were irritated, and he had slight dark circles under them.

"What time is it?"

"Seven," his mother replied as she hurried down the hallway of their house.

She was rushing too; she was still running around barefoot.

"But, Mom! What do you mean, seven? I start school at seven!"

"I know, that's why I'm telling you to hurry!"

The two of them ran from one side of the house to the other until they managed to get ready.

As they left the house, the boy glanced at the garden his mother tended so carefully while she pulled the car out of the garage.

Although his mother was usually quite absent-minded and lived at a frantic pace, she always found a moment to relax and enjoy caring for her plants.

Izan yawned, stretched his arms, and then approached his "little tree." In the center of the garden, he and his mother had planted a jacaranda seed a year earlier.

By then, the little tree had already grown to a height of one and a half meters, and it seemed it would soon be as tall as him.

According to what his mother had told him, the tree took almost ten years to finish growing and produce its characteristic lilac flowers.

They had both promised to have a picnic beneath the little tree on the day it bloomed.

"What are you doing?" his mother shouted, having already pulled the vehicle out. "Come on, we don't have time."

It was seven-oh-five as they drove to Izan's school.

"This is the third time I've been late this week, Mom," the boy complained.

"Don't blame me. You could set your own alarm too," she said while driving and eating a cereal bar.

"I forgot," Izan huffed. "Besides, doesn't your work start at seven too?"

"Seven twenty," she clarified, focused on the road.

"But you have like thirty minutes of driving."

"Tsk! It's your father's fault."

"What does Dad have to do with it if he leaves in the early morning?"

"Exactly. If he left at the same time as us, we wouldn't oversleep," she joked, finishing her food. "All right, we're here. Run."

She stopped the vehicle at the corner of the school and waited for Izan to get out.

Before the boy could open the door, he noticed something strange about his mother's face.

"Mom! Your nose is bleeding..."

The woman touched it and saw blood covering her fingers.

"It's nothing. Go on, hurry," she said, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my blood pressure probably went up from rushing around. Everything's fine."

"Umm... okay," Izan replied as he got out of the car. "But be careful."

"That's what I should be telling you, since I'm your mother," the woman complained with a smile. "See you, sweetheart. Run, you're late, but be careful."

Izan smiled, closed the door, and hurried away.

That was the last normal day he would have with his mother, as that same afternoon she would be hospitalized and diagnosed with blood cancer.

As the boy ran toward school, he tripped over a raised paving stone and fell flat on his face.

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Izan opened his eyes as he awoke from the dream and immediately pushed himself up with his arms.

The ground was not the arid earth of the wasteland but dark brick. He immediately looked up and saw the imposing Dark Palace before his eyes. Beyond it was the red, starry sky characteristic of that place.

Feeling his body heavy, he managed to stand and looked around. He was on the broken bridge leading to the palace entrance, and below it flowed the green river of spectral arms.

He looked curiously beyond the river and noticed that, following the broken bridge, rocky walls concealed a forest of dead trees, though not very successfully.

Likewise, he remained there for a few minutes, staring at the landscape with empty eyes. His mind was still trapped in the dream he had just experienced. Everything had felt so real that he could no longer distinguish what had been a dream and what had not, even though the moment with his mother had happened seven years ago.

Why had he remembered something like that now? And why did he have to remember that particular day?

A cold breeze struck his face and brought him back to the present.

"Now that I think about it, this place is supposed to be on the way to the underworld," he mused. "If I had died, would I come here?"

He turned toward the palace and, scratching his head, walked toward the doors.

"I don't remember coming here willingly. Maybe I'm actually dead this time."

Instinctively, he touched his chest where the beast had torn his skin, but there was no wound. Not even the black shirt he was wearing was torn.

"Izan!" Clara shouted from inside the Dark Palace.

Hearing her, the boy ran toward her, forgetting his doubts.

The great door of the palace opened as he approached to welcome him, and inside, he was met with a great surprise.

Near the entrance, a burly man lay unconscious on the floor. He wore a dark green shirt and loose linen pants.

Izan recognized the man's trimmed beard and realized he was one of the guards who had escorted them before the attack that had taken the lives of all his companions.

"Izan! Finally!" Clara exclaimed, running toward him.

The girl's face was filled with concern and terror.

"Are you all right?" Izan asked, holding her by the arms, equally concerned.

He looked her over and noticed that, aside from her apparent fear, there was nothing strange about her.

"Yes, but... there's a huge creature," she gasped nervously, pointing toward the hall's staircase.

As if Clara's words had summoned it, the great feline Izan, whom she had defeated in the wasteland, jumped from the upper floor to the ground level, rising imposingly.

The boy froze for a moment but immediately stepped between Clara and the beast.

"I didn't expect to see you again," he said to the animal, nervously gritting his teeth.

"What? You know it?" the girl asked in surprise.

"Something like that... it tried to kill me recently."

The beast, recognizing Izan, went on guard, its fur standing on end.

"Tried? You fought it and beat that thing?" she asked in surprise. "And if it's here... that means..."

"Yes. I ate it."

Clara looked at her friend, confused and with some fear. At that moment, she thought Izan was a wholly different person.

"It wasn't intentional," the boy admitted, backing away. "But I never imagined I could absorb its soul."

"What's going on?" the guard asked behind them in a somber voice.

The two boys were startled when they heard him speak and turned to see the man getting up, holding his head as though it hurt.

Seeing more movement, the beast became enraged and lunged, taking advantage of the distraction.

Izan, who had never taken his eyes off the feline, reacted quickly and threw himself to the ground, using his body to push Clara away at the precise moment the imposing animal passed over them. The guard, however, was not so lucky.

His vision still blurred from having just awakened, he found himself face-to-face with the beast's great open jaws as they descended upon his skull.

The pain was immediate. The fangs sank into the top of his head and his neck, exerting so much pressure that he thought his head would explode.

The man screamed desperately while waving his arms, trying to hit the animal, but the feline was unmoved by his weak blows.

"Quick, get up!" Izan told Clara, extending his hand so she could stand. "We have to run."

His friend was pale, staring at the beast's muscular back as it loomed over the guard.

"Come on!" the boy urged.

Clara nodded and let him help her up. Feeling her friend's hand gripping hers tightly, she squeezed back so he would not let go.

"Let's get out of the palace," Izan said.

Clara nodded, unable to say anything, while taking a breath to calm her nerves.

The two ran toward the great door of the Dark Palace as the guard's screams and desperate movements kept the animal occupied.

The girl felt deeply guilty about running away without trying to help the man who seemed to be dying, but she understood that there was nothing she could do.

"Are you sure I can get out of here?" Clara suddenly asked when she saw the door before her.

Izan stopped dead and hesitated. What would happen if his friend's soul disappeared when she crossed the exit?

Without giving them time to think, the feline shook the guard, who was still clamped in its jaws, and threw him against one of the columns in the hall. Then it fixed its predatory eyes on Izan, ready to continue the battle they had fought in the wasteland.

"It doesn't matter," Clara said when she noticed the animal beginning to approach. "We have to try."