In a huge well lit room, a man paced around with a tense face. Wooden logs burning in the fireplace kept him warm in the frigid winters. His hairs were dishevelled, clearly indicating the countless times he ran his fingers through them. His brown eyes gleamed in the warmth of the fire.
"What happened during the task?" He mumbled to himself.
"Why am I not able to recall any memories of last night?" He wrecked up his brain.
He sat on a chair, impatiently shaking his leg as he strove to recall the memories. This was the first time he was experiencing something like this and he sought the answers.
He glanced at the wall clock and muttered, "He might still be there."
He got to his feet and put on his overcoat. Looking at the clock one last time he stormed out of his room in the chilly atmosphere outside.
"Take me to the council," he said to his coachman, who stood outside of his enormous manor.
