Blood.
There was blood everywhere. The blood of different men on his black cloak, on his shirt, on his skin, dripping from his sword, and there was also blood dripping from his face, his blood. Fayan was reckless. It was the first time he injured himself while fighting. He couldn't see clearly, his head felt heavy like it was two seconds away from falling off his body. The high from the curse was wearing off, and he didn't think he could keep riding his horse that now had splotches of blood all over her white body, but he was close, he was so close to the palace, he could see the tall tower at the gate though it was pitch dark outside since it was a half-moon. The torches burning from the tower gave him an idea of how close he was to the palace.
