During those troubled times, the gala was being held in the city of water as expected. Countless films were gathered to be shown in the projection booth. It was going to be a great feast to which a lot of people were willing to travel day and night.
A traveler passing by Piemonte stopped. He bent over and saw a child's eyes through a small window which was only 3 feet from the ground.

A voice came from the inside, "Where are you from? Where are you going?"
"I'm going to Venice, to attend the Film Festival," said the traveler.
"What is a Film Festival?" The voice hesitated for a second, "What is film?"
"Put some square slices in a square box, and it will tell a wonderful or boring story. It's a beam of light, so we need a dark room to watch it."
"A dark room like this one?"
He could see light in the child's eyes, and some unrecognizable animals lurking behind him, so he nodded and said,
"Yes, a dark room like this one."

The traveler remembered the child on his way back. When he passed by Piemonte again, the window was blocked by layers of planks. He crouched down to knock on it, but there was no response at all.

Every child has their own imaginary friends.
They might be fay queens or legendary heroes.
His aunt did not like him. The child's face resembled that of her beautiful, sorrowful sister who had abandoned her, gone to the city, then died a few years later. She only left behind her troublesome kid. She did not want to see his face or be reminded of her sister.
Being confined in the basement became the norm.
In the beginning, he fumed, wept and attempted to yield and apologize. However, the door atop the steps remained firmly closed.
The sound of dripping water, breathing, the squeaks of rodents in the wood panels and endless silence accompanied him. There was no sunrise or sunset, and after awakening, he would fall asleep once more.
The foggy voices from the deep of his mind merged as if they were getting closer, blending into a continuous, mournful suite. One wolf hid behind another, and the pack surrounded him in the darkness of the night. They held each other's heads and tails and coiled together like snakes, bringing with them warmth and restful sleep. These were the friends he found in the darkness, ones who would never abandon or leave him, and who would forever watch over him.
Just like the imaginary friends every child has.

Pandora Wilson: According to James Burton's Reminiscences, he was once assigned to work with a maddening mercenary as punishment. And that punishment—I believe, was you.
Pandora Wilson: What's your opinion about that?
Pavia: I don't care.
Pavia: They see me as a punishment, then so be it. Idiots are everywhere, just like the stupid fans of your boring magazine.
Pandora Wilson: ?
Pavia: Hey, your stupid arcane skill won't melt my gelato in the refrigerator, will it?!
Pandora Wilson: ... Maybe you wouldn't have been such an effective "punishment" if you could just shut up.
Pavia: Hah, shame you're too stupid to understand the fun of "causing pain." Like now, though I can only see your mouth ... I'm sure your face doesn't look happy.
Pandora Wilson: I don't think anyone can look happy in front of you.
Pavia: Attention—quick question: I'm gonna repeat something I just said. What will it be?
Pavia: Time's up. The answer is ... I don't f**king care.