16 years ago.
Eris asked his men to wait outside and then entered the commander's tent. It was a narrow place for the Legion leader's meeting place. There was a table in the center, with six seats. One at each end and two on the sides. Lighting consisted of chandeliers located around the table.
There, Commander Rommel was waiting for her: the short man with a bland bald head, a wrinkled forehead, small eyes, and a thick beard. He was sitting in the chair at one end of the table, facing the entrance of the tent.
'Don't be fooled by his looks,' Eris kept repeating to herself. Rommel was not a harmless man. He had a lot of power and could be very dangerous. He was not alone. He was accompanied by four Legion soldiers: his personal guard. All armed with long swords.
"Miss Eris," Rommel greeted her with an affable voice and a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Please sit down," he pointed to the chair at the other end.
