The sky was washed in a pale hue of gray, with clouds trailing lazily over the blood-kissed horizon. Rohzivaan stood in the middle of the open field, the wind teasing the long strands of his dark hair as his eyes remained fixed ahead, motionless, unblinking, and soaked in cold determination.
The grass beneath their feet was still wet from last night's storm, and the scent of damp soil clung stubbornly to the air. Richmond, a few steps behind his brother, kept glancing between the solemn landscape and Rohzivaan's rigid figure, unsure whether to speak or walk away. But he couldn't ignore the tension vibrating off his brother like an invisible scream.
"What now, Rohzivaan?" Richmond finally broke the silence, voice tight with concern. "You've been coming here every day. You don't eat, you don't sleep. What are you planning?"
