The sky, heavy with clouds, felt lower than ever before.
It almost looked as if the clouds were brushing the small hill behind the training yard and the barracks.
While everyone went about their own business, the king and Enkrid spoke of each other’s dreams.
They spoke while drawing in the cold, crisp air left behind by the rain and exhaling deeply.
“I wish to become a knight and wield a sword.”
His tone and demeanor were so plain and subdued that the dream sounded like it belonged to someone else.
It started with becoming a knight, then extended to all he hoped to accomplish on the continent.
