The Portico Of Glory
The night draped over the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela like a dark shroud, its towers soaring majestically against the starlit sky. Valeria moved with determined steps, passing through the cathedral’s doors, her eyes lifting to the Portico of Glory, and for the first time, she took in the millennia-old carvings, the figures sculpted as if to guard an everlasting secret. The grandeur of the site enveloped her; the pillars, the likenesses of saints and prophets, all exuded history, a sacred silence that only these stone walls could whisper. Her footsteps echoed in the expansive emptiness, and for a fleeting second, the external world seemed to pause. Yet, the tranquility was pierced by the flicker of blue and red lights seeping from outside, dancing across the stained glass windows. The squad cars had arrived, heralding …