"In the very old days, at the beginning of time and at the farthest point of the earth, there was a door. A locked door. Men and women traveled from all over the world with keys in their hands to open the door. But the door wouldn't open for anything."

Anyone who believed that the dead from the first book had died was proven wrong on New Year's Eve, when all the "wastrels" returned. Weary from the elements of nature, from passions and loves that the upper part of the earth couldn't bear, they shook the dirt from their collars and triumphantly returned, to dine as they once did with the living - a whole world for one night and the human drama in full swing - until that revered hour arrived, the first light of dawn, for them to fade away and hide once again in the darkness. And all of this under the watchful, deep gaze of Leuka, who would later choose the strange name Ramanthis Erebus as her true pseudonym. The little deer would gradually transform into a woman, always enigmatic, dedicated to the celebratory embellishments of her pen and destined to speak to souls like leaves speak when touched by the wind, guarding and simultaneously depicting unspeakable secrets."