The wind moved lazily, tugging at Damon's cape and combing through his hair. His hands rested on the hilt of his sword as the sun brushed his face with warm light.
He looked almost melancholic, distant, as though he were a celestial being observing the world from far above it.
Medals adorned his chest. The air around him felt heavy with mystery.
Then he raised a hand.
"Silence," he ordered.
"Erhm, no one was speaking," Evangeline said, pressing her fingers to her forehead as Damon continued posing in front of the gathered crowd.
Today was his sending off ceremony and the formal announcement of his victory against Ashergon the great dragon.
Naturally, Damon was overdressed and standing several steps above everyone else, looking down at them with dramatic intent.
Evangeline silently prayed he would not give a speech. She was certain he would brag about his feat while staring at everyone with open condescension.
