Northern Continent, Argent.
Adrian stood at the balcony adjacent to his room, his gaze sweeping over the City of Silver, the city blessed enough to be closest to the Lord's tabernacle.
His blonde hair moved with the light breeze and his blue eyes reflected the people moving around below.
As young as he was, his gaze was filled with awe as he stared, taking in the sights with a relish.
To think that just last year, he was a simple farm boy tilling the fields.
Yet, here he was, in the greatest city the world has ever known, the capital city of Salem Theocracy.
He could still remember the whole scene vividly.
When a group of missionaries sent by the Pope himself, announced him as the chosen one, even going ahead to anoint his head with oil.
His mind whirled back then, clearly confused that he would be chosen for anything.
He'd served his father diligently and was paid back with maltreatment of various categories.
