As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the bustling inn, Carl sat down at the dinner table, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of Mike. He had told his friend to take his time, to enjoy the warm bath and relax after their long journey.
As he waited, Carl's gaze wandered around the inn, taking in the lively atmosphere. The fire crackled and spat in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was thick with the smell of roasting meat and freshly baked bread.
Just as Carl was starting to feel a little impatient, a figure emerged from the crowd, her eyes locked on him with an unnerving intensity. She was a woman, tall and statuesque, with long, flowing hair the color of honey. Her skin was a radiant, porcelain-like complexion, and her lips were painted a deep, crimson red.
As she approached Carl, a sly smile spreading across her face, he felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something about her that seemed off, something that didn't quite add up.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice husky and seductive, as she slid into the chair opposite Carl.
Carl raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her bold, flirtatious demeanor. "Not at all," he replied, his voice neutral, as he gestured to the empty chair.
The woman smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement, as she reached out and placed a hand on Carl's arm. "My name is Velma," she said, her voice dripping with sensuality. "And you are...?"
Carl felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as Velma's hand touched his arm although he knew she knows him due to their early introductions at the arena she seems to want something from him and it would bring him a serious headache later. He knew that he had to be careful, that this woman was trouble with a capital T.
"I'm Carl," he replied, his voice firm, as he gently removed Velma's hand from his arm. "And I'm waiting for my friend. He'll be down shortly."
Velma's smile never wavered, but Carl could sense a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She was used to getting what she wanted, and Carl's rejection had clearly thrown her off guard.
Undeterred, Velma leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving Carl's face. "I'll wait with you, then," she said, her voice dripping with honey. "We can get to know each other better."
Carl's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities. What did Velma want from him? And what was she hiding behind those piercing, emerald green eyes?
As Velma's annoyance grew, her face began to twist with anger, and she seemed to be on the verge of creating a scene. But just as she was about to unleash her wrath, a woman with piercing, pitch-black eyes appeared out of nowhere, her presence commanding attention.
The woman was as elegant as Velma, with long, raven-black hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of night. Her skin was a radiant, porcelain-like complexion, and her lips were painted a deep, crimson red. She was dressed in a flowing, black gown that seemed to shimmer and shine in the firelight.
As she approached the table, her eyes fixed on Velma, and a look of intense anger flashed across her face. Velma, sensing her anger, felt a shiver run down her spine, and she seemed to shrink back in her chair, her eyes wide with fear.
The woman's gaze never wavered from Velma's face, and her voice was low and even. "I think it's time for you to leave, Velma. You're not welcome here."
Velma's face went white, and she seemed to tremble with fear. She quickly got up from her chair and scurried away, not daring to look back.
The woman turned to Carl, a look of apology on her face. "I'm so sorry about that," she said, her voice soft and melodious. "Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lydia, and I'm the advisor for the monarch of wind in the Wings of God tournament."
Carl smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm Carl," he said, his voice firm. "And thank you for chasing that headache away from me.he didn't know why but he felt she was someone he could lower his guard when around with her she was the Monarch of winds advisor just like Lilith was his."
Lydia laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Anytime, Carl," she said, her voice husky. "I'm just glad I could help."
As they chatted, Carl couldn't help but notice the way Lydia carried herself. She was confident and self-assured, with a quiet strength that commanded respect. He found himself drawn to her, and he couldn't help but wonder what other secrets she might be hiding.
As they talked, Mike came down from his room, looking refreshed and rejuvenated. "Hey, Carl," he said, his voice cheerful. "Who's your new friend?"
Carl smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "This is Lydia," he said, his voice firm. "She's an advisor for the monarch of wind in the Wings of God tournament just like Lilith and Jane left behind by the dragons for you as you refused to follow them back to the sky mountains."
Mike's eyes widened in surprise, and he turned to Lydia with a look of curiosity. "Really?" he said, his voice interested. "What's your story, Lydia?"
Lyra smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm a warrior from the kingdom of clouds," she said, her voice husky. "I've been training for this tournament my whole life, and I'm determined to protect the monarch of wind with her journey to become a God ."
Mike's eyes narrowed, his face set in a determined expression. "I'm not going to let you win without a fight, Lyra," he said, his voice firm.
Lyra laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm counting on it, Mike," she said, her voice husky. "I'm counting on it."
After the formalities Mike left Carl to his new friend and went to the room being as lazy as he is he went to sleep immediately his head touched the bed.