Bab 84: Does he bleed?

Aric rode into the Imperial City, his horse's hooves clacking steadily on the cobblestone streets. Behind him, his men and the court trailed at a distance, though they were scarcely visible. 

He had chosen to ride alone, as was tradition for a prince returning from war. The wind tugged at his cloak, sending it billowing like a black flag behind him, but the city itself remained eerily still. 

Not a single sound escaped from the towering walls of the grand city, not a single soul appeared on the streets. Only the rhythmic beat of his horse's hooves against the stone filled the silence.

Aric understood this silence—it was tradition. 

He had seen it before, witnessed the empty streets that greeted warlords upon their return. It was not out of fear or indifference that the people stayed hidden. It was out of reverence. The victorious must walk alone before he is greeted by his people.