Author's POV
The dark lord returned to the throne room, his feet hitting the white marble floor loudly. The air felt tense with tension filling the entire space like a thick blanket.
In his left hand was a thirty-two inches blade that dragged across the surface of the floor as he walked toward the center of the room leaving a long trail of blood behind him.
His sharp silver armor shone under the candlelight creating an aura of mystery surrounding him.
Everyone bowed their heads in submission as they noticed that the lord had returned once again.
As soon as he got to the large chair placed in the middle of the room he sat down, his eyes scanning through his subject looking for a particular person.
"Eryain." He called out his voice echoing throughout the whole palace making everyone who heard him tremble in fear at hearing his voice and his power alone.
