Sat atop one of the towers surrounding the royal castle, Milo was wrapped in a thick black jacket staring aimlessly into the night sky. He cupped a warm cup of tea in his hand, gently lifting it towards his mouth he took a sip and let out a satisfied breath, his breath visible thanks to the deep coldness.
It hadn't been long since he had left the King after venturing down towards the mana vein. After that he was too stunned to speak with anybody, even his sisters got the cold shoulder as Milo brushed past them with a look of disbelief before rushing away so fast that not even Marcos could keep up with him.
The idea that this world was his was unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable. To him, 15000 years was nothing, especially because he was once a dragon. But, it had only just began to dawn on him how long 15000 years truly was, especially for the races that lived much shorter lives than himself.
