Milo sat alone atop a mountain, the sun starting to rise behind him masking the horizon in a beautiful red hue. The lone stone he was perched atop shuffled slightly, the ground quacking as a sharp burst of mana shattered a small cliff beneath him.
Milo didn't look down, rather, he leant down to his right side and picked up a small smooth rock. He flipped it in his palm, allowing his mana to run across its surface and shattering it.
'So fragile …'.
It was the morning when they had to leave the eleven kingdom, but he didn't wish to do so with haste. After meeting with Rekior, Milo scurried off towards one of the mountains overlooking the kingdom, waiting for the hours to pass.
However, he did call for someone in particular. Someone that should be arriving very soon.
