Alastair's eyes snapped open when a strange sensation rushed through his body. His body heated up slowly, while his heart pounded loudly. He lowered his hand from his forehead and forced himself, his brows scrunching up in confusion. Everything had been calm, his heart was at peace just a moment ago. Even before he could comprehend, his heartbeat turned violent and sweatdrops adorned his forehead like a thin crown.
Alastair was familiar with the feeling. He had experienced it once in the past. It was more intense and painful and every part of his body had been on fire, devouring his soul away, though it had lasted only for a fleeting moment. His eyes had taken a darker and magnificent shade of amber shining brilliantly in the dark room. How could he not remember the day when he had taken over the throne as the King of Oryn? It had been the most joyous moment for his parents while he crowned the king in front of all the court members.
