The warm steam from the bath was like the searing breath of a bubbling hot spring. Leaning on the tiled edges of the pool, a pale maeruthan with dazzling bright silver hair began nodding off drowsily. Red flush gathered on his face and neck, as well as the curve of his bare shoulders. With a sigh, his silver eyes glanced at the door where his guards stood behind, vigilantly waiting and preparing to attend him.
'In less than a week, I will be shipped from this place.' He thought to himself. There was a bit of bitterness laced in his thoughts. And he wondered... What would the Leonile Stronghold look like now? Have the Imperial forces altered it significantly?
Moulin turned around, leaned his back against the pool's edge, and closed his eyes. Silvery strands of his hair danced beneath the water's surface.
Suddenly, there was a shift in the air. Familiar mana briefly dispersed with the steam.