This morning

Furniture from the era of the Arbilus: nomadic kings with the magic of movement and astral beauty. They never settled down in order to reach the peak of their power in their pace and movement, of which legends tell of a majestic people.

  - Mira, here you are. 

  - Hello master.

  He looked at me strangely.

  - I am sorry for your loss. 

  - Thank you, Mr. Bonell.

  - Please sit down.

  - Very well, sir. Thank you.

  He took his seat, and then stared at me intently.

  He wore a dark gray three-piece suit, with a rather vulgar tie, hair in a mess, informing a nervous man all day long, constantly running his hands through his hair whenever he suffered a disadvantage.

Quite fat, and over a hundred years old for who knows how many decades, he had to use magic to extend his life, it was the case of all, being able to reach a century and even a thousand years for the majority.