Melekai of the Third

“Comrade Viriel. How is life being a fugitive?” Melekai asked. His curly auburn hair reached on his shoulder fitted with his lean features. His armor was like Viriel’s design - silver and white glistening patterns.

“It’s not what you think, Melekai. Why are you here anyway? There was an evacuation calling from Heavenly Supreme” Viriel responded.

Dreygo glanced in every corner, from the rooftops of trade posts. It was a perfect place for an ambush.

“Viriel, we are sitting ducks here,” Dreygo suggested, his sword unsheathed on his right.

“Who do you work for, Melekai?” Viriel asked.