After a big bath, Zyran came out of his room for a walk, the rest area Below the inn was bustling as usual he could hear the melodious sound of the harp being played and the fragrance that drifted in the air, there was no need to be down there to hear the calming voice of the entertainer, he stare at the moon that reflects above shining bright in it half glory like there was no tomorrow and was exhausting it light on today.
The greatest regret he has is leaving Amira behind and not taking her with him to war. He could not bear the thought of letting her face the harsh reality of war, his thinking had brought her ruin. However, deep down, he couldn't let the thought of her being dead sink in.
The room at the end of the hallway opened with a harsh screech, echoing through the inn's corridors. Initially, Zyran considered brushing it off as a mere creak, but something about the sound sounded off, there shouldn't be anyone skulking around at this hour in the inn.
