The night had a smell of blood.
Daemon's grip on the worn leather hilt of his sword got stronger. He had always wanted to be a warrior for the Dominion, fighting for honour and glory. But here, under the pale moon and with the capital looming like a shining beast, that dream already felt empty. Kaelen walked next to him. Her red eyes reflected the starlight without blinking, showing no mercy. He was uneasy because she carried her long blade with such calmness. "You don't want to," she said without looking at him. Daemon said, "I'm not afraid," but his shaking hands gave him away. Her eyes were sharp as steel as they turned to him. "Fear isn't a sign of weakness. It's chaining yourself to it.Before Daemon could say anything, smoke rose in front of him. The night was filled with screams. They got to the edge of a village, where there were houses.