It was a wonderful morning.
Azel stood in the courtyard of the Imperial Palace, the cool morning air brushing against his face as he tightened the cloak that he wore.
A small sigh escaped his lips, the air was cold as well.
The sun had only just begun to rise, casting long shadows across the polished stone tiles beneath his boots.
The palace loomed behind him, a monument of gold and marble, and yet — despite all its grandeur, it felt strangely quiet.
That was because it was really early, the Emperors and the others were still asleep, well he had said his goodbyes yesterday so it wasn't that much of a problem.
Steven stood beside him, stretching his arms with a yawn as he prepared the griffin for flight.
"Well, kid," he said with his usual easy-going tone, "as nice as this palace was, I'll take our little cottage over this any day. No servants peeking over your shoulder every time you breathe, nobody gossiping like pigeons. Just peace and quiet."
