Seventeen-year-old Sullivan sat perched on a sturdy branch, high up in the tree, his body relaxed as the soft rustling of leaves swayed around him because of the gentle breeze.
A small squirrel rested comfortably on his shoulder, nibbling on a nut as if it had found solace in the boy's calm presence.
With his eyes shut, Sullivan appeared to be enjoying a moment of peaceful rest, away from the cruelty of the world below.
But the sound of approaching hooves disturbed the tranquility. His eyes fluttered open, narrowing as he peered down through the thick foliage.
Galloping towards the forest clearing was none other than Crown Prince Daedric, mounted on his steed, followed closely by his two brothers and a young girl—Dahlia. The sight of her made Sullivan's lips curl slightly, though not in amusement but in hate.
