Far from Pelian.
A man strummed his lute while rocking on his chair with an annoying degree of carefreeness. He played high and low notes in a way that was very tempting, the dancing of the cords almost effectively persuading his audience to relax.
Almost.
None of them could.
Despite the draping, leafy vines of the tree they all sat under which featured orchids and roses on opposite sides of each, their scents teasing the nose blissfully, none could appreciate the beauty.
The sun was diving down finally, bringing about the much needed end to this day which seemed to last thrice as long as the others.
On Pelian, perhaps others were celebrating it, but Vali, Maxim, and Darwel could barely see a reason for tomorrow to come if it was only going to emphasise what happened today.
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