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Once upon a time there lived a boy by the name of Alin. Normally he played like any boy his age, but for some time now he had been drawn to sit quietly every afternoon by a lake near the forest. It was as if some-thing was calling him.

And so it happened that one day Alin was sitting by the lake leaning against the trunk of an old tree, deeply absorbed in a daydream. He thought about his life and how everything was going. In school he had a couple of good teachers. He even had one subject that fascinated him and he had some good friends. But something was missing. He just couldn’t quite say what it was.