A few days ago…
Above, the Scarlet Moon hovered with a malevolent pulse, breathing, almost, as though it were a living vessel with something beating at its core.
Beneath its crimson light, deep in the middle of nowhere within Scarlet Kin territory, two men stood inside what remained of an ancient temple.
The throne that had once commanded the room was long empty, its surface cracked and dulled with age. The roof had collapsed ages ago.
What remained were a few stubborn walls, and even they — weathered and broken as they were — were enough to suggest what this place had once been before the Red Day swallowed everything.
The silver-haired man carried himself like something the world had shaped specifically to be looked at. Deep golden eyes, a gray beard and mustache, and a scar drawn across his left eye, rendering it blind.
His short white robe did what it always did: it made him look less like a person and more like a god who had decided to show up. Arthur Rover.
