"The Emberframed will not kneel. Not to fire, not to kings, not to death. But before his presence, we humbly bend the knee!" — Duke Alec Lyon.
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Rustle~ Rustle~
Asher's eyelids fluttered open, revealing his piercing gaze. The morning sun cast a warm glow on his face, illuminating the sharp contours of his features.
The pristine white clouds floated lazily across the sky, their reflections dancing in the calm waters of his eyes.
However, his attention was quickly diverted by the sound of horses' hooves pounding the earth, a rhythmic beat that echoed through the air.
He tilted his head to his right, sweeping his gaze through the tent.
The open roof allowed a gentle breeze to caress his skin, but his worry was his foggy mind.
It had been a long time since he woke up feeling like this, his thoughts muddled and his senses dulled.
Only yesterday did he drink wine to his heart's content, savoring the rich flavors that complemented the dragon meat's bold taste.
