The sky darkened as the sun began to set. Looming dusk cast the shadows of the iron fences thinner and longer around the Theocheirós Family's mansion on the green grass smeared with the orange — almost pinkish — glow of the sinking sun.
At this hour, all manual work had been finished. The servants had gone home to their families except for the maids that were assigned to work during the night. The village also turned quiet and the streets empty but not deserted.
As the last sunlight flickered out, drowning beyond the western skyline, the lamplights in the village and inside the yard of the mansion illuminated the manor in the warm glow of the divine flame. Coupled with the bright summer moonlight and the billions of shining stars, the night didn't feel cold and lonely, instead, mystical and dreamsome.
On the center of the Southern Olcour, a mansion, more prominent than any, was stood. Inside it was where some of the strongest humans in the world were having their dinner.
