"The Emperor of Water is surrendering power."
The voice of a woman hung in the air. She wore a baggy, cloak-like Martial attire dyed blood-red, the same color as her eyes and her air, her pale skin illuminated by faint torches, rather than any kind of modern lighting technology. A wild, excited smile emerged on her face as she studied a report on the wild ambitions of the Emperor and the path of privatization that he had chosen to get there.
"To think that we would get our opportunity in such a straightforward manner," she turned towards an adolescent boy with a pointed gaze. "Perhaps you'll be able to come out of the shadows now, Sarloun."
Across the room was a boy of sixteen years of age. His eyes and hair, again, were as red as blood, while his expression was inscrutable.
