On the eve of the one-month anniversary of the arrival of Minos' group in Uzira, Leger was alone in a small cave, in front of a fire, with a fish roasting.
The night, always clear in Zocarro, was making the place partially illuminated. In addition, the breeze from the sparse forest where this cave was located well ventilated the place, making it quiet and welcoming.
But Leger didn't feel relaxed anywhere in Uzira. Aware of the dangers of this continent and the hunters in search of his neck, he was vigilant as he waited for his fish to be ready.
Alone, he wasn't optimistic. 'I've been waiting for Minos for two years now... Will he still come to me?' he asked himself as he sighed.
Of all his crew, he was the one who had believed the most in Minos and Tiolos' group. But even he was beginning to doubt that group. The Violent Sea was truly terrible and every day that passed without him hearing from the group, the more he thought the worst had happened.
