The cosy library was left behind. Or far away. Or in another time. Vernon didn't know how he got there. He didn't even know what was there. The only thing he knew was that he was in a completely different place from a second ago. He felt on his stomach the same feeling as being on the roller coaster at the amusement park he used to go with his family. But this wasn't an amusement park.
 

He looked up to find some swallows hanging their nests on a balcony. He laughed. He was really inside not any text but that famous poem. There wasn't anything that point out what story it was nor a place where he could read a title. Seeing the swallows made him think that the "short poem" Mingyu said a moment ago was that Bécquer's poem.
 

After a while looking around, Vernon guessed he won't know which story he'd land on. Then he regretted not reading so much before. He also regretted not asking how to get out of there.
 

-Okay, Vernon, calm down. He said it was just a practice... -talking to himself helped him relaxing. Talking to the plants climbing the walls didn't seem a good option.
 

Around him there was only the little scenery where he was and further: nothing but void. Actually he wasn't expecting more, seems logic there was nothing more that what the author wrote. But the logical fact didn't makes him feel better at all.

 

Some dew is already on the flowers. "I wanna go out" he thought.
 

He didn't see the water drops falling. Because he, not knowing how, had already got out.
 

***

A/N: The Black Swallows Will Return... (LIII) - G. A. Bécquer