Bab 22: The Maker

Huzey awoke to the familiarity of that recurring dream that haunted his nights. Beads of sweat clung to his skin as he opened his eyes, a deep sigh escaping from his lungs. In the hushed aftermath of the dream, he inhaled the soothing fragrance that permeated his room—a delicate scent of red roses, a balm for his frayed nerves. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of morning sunlight filtering through heavy curtains, held a serene ambiance.

Calm gradually returned to him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his long black hair flowing like a cascade as he combed through it. The sweat from his body glistened in the meager rays of sunshine that found their way through the window. Though the morning was chilly, the dream had left him with an intensity that lingered, manifesting in the sheen of perspiration on his skin.