At dusk, Triton overlooked the city from the castle's terrace.
But unlike the usual, he wasn't admiring the bustling scenery before him.
With the news he'd just recieved; it could only be so.
Earlier…
While going through paperwork like any other day, Bolton, the royal advisor, walked in with haste to deliver him an earful in hush tones.
His eyes widened.
"Where is he now?"
With quick hands, he adorned his robes. "Take him to the parlour, I'll be right with you"
Getting to the parlour, he sees his guest, and is stunned.
As the crown prince, he'd seen the Grandmasters of Niton many times, so they were easily recognizable.
There sat Raven, with his sunken gaze, wrapped in bandages, almost cocooned even.
Moreover, there seemed to be something wrong with his left arm.
He sat with drinks served in front of him.
Such an appearance was alarming.
What must've happened for a grandmaster to end up in such a state?
"Hello Triton"
"Hello, Mr. Raven"
