Victor woke up to find his desk rummaged: someone'd been there while he was asleep.
A great feeling of fear made him widen his eyes, then he took his pistol, as if expecting someone to show up from nowhere.
He smelled something strange, once he lit the candles, he could see it: a blue mist floating over his bed. "Poison?" he thought and jumped out of his room as fast as he could, landing in a beautiful somersault.
He strode off to the council chamber: "Well, I'm OK..." he thought. "Perhaps it wasn't poison after all?" he continued, his thoughts wandering about what had happened. Obviously, he left the door and window of his room open, to refresh the air.
He entered the council chamber and then saw Byshoppe sitting on his chair, dead, pointing through the window. The scene was revolting, blood everywhere, especially in his throat. It seemed he had his throat slit.
He peered out the window and saw the X, painted with blood.
Victor negated slowly with the head, grave expression, and went to the corridor; it was disgusting to stay there.