Draven and Ember had arrived at Redcrest city. However, unlike what Draven expected, instead of sorrow of mourning and the bustle of cremation in the main square, there was an air of celebration.
'What's going on here?'
Draven's sharp senses got him the answer and his red eyes looked towards the entrance of the hall in shock.
Ember was too dispirited to take notice of her surroundings, immersed in her own pain while clutching onto that bird whistle tightly in her hand.
Draven took Ember inside the hall, where the people bowed wherever he passed, but spared them not a glance.
He caught the part of Cornelia saying she needed to bring Morpheus back with her.
"Is it true?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. We can save Morph. There is still hope."
Draven didn't know what to feel. His red eyes landed on his friend's body and chaotic emotions burst inside his chest. He covered his face with his hands, but one could see that his hands were trembling.
