Why did you call us? - Stas asks discontentedly. Were we not clear last time?

Tightly clinging to each other, the three of us stand in the middle of a spacious dark hall. There are candles scattered across the floor, but they don't do the job well. Cold seeps through the cracks. Candle flames crackle, responding to the touch of the wind. And shadows dance on the walls in time with the movement of the flame.

Right on the floor, cross-legged in a lotus position, sits a middle-aged man. Gray hair pulled into a tight ponytail, tired colorless eyes and a thin body look deceptive. Who better than us to...