The day became more beautiful as it dragged on, unaware of the lives and destinies swaying on the surface. Summer wouldn’t last forever but the winters were mild and favorable to many people dwelling in the Outer Realm.
The flames burned high around the altar with nearly a hundred people in attendance. Coronations weren’t a simple matter of putting a crown on but a ritual monitored by the priests of Ahmun, the flame god.
“They’re coming,” Markus shouted as he stormed out of the room and nearly collided with Rouya. “More of Kalim’s soldiers are marching on the castle. We have to escape from here at once.”