"It's you!!!"
Ravan's eyes opened so wide they began to hurt.
For a moment he forgot how to breathe.
Terror rushed into his chest and froze there.
His mind went blank.
"You… this… what are you doing here…?"
His voice broke. It did not sound like the voice of a king. It sounded like a man who had just seen a ghost.
The man floating in the air did not answer.
He wore a white robe, white as the snow below. The cloth did not move in the wind. It hung perfectly still.
His black hair fell softly over his forehead.
His blue eyes shone like clear ice under the storm.
His face was calm. Too calm.
Sharp jaw. Straight nose. Smooth skin.
If someone stared at him too long, their thoughts would slow down. It was not only beauty. It was presence. Heavy. Pure.
It was Vivian D Zenithara.
The boy who had vanished four years ago.
The boy who had once stood in Ravan's way.
The boy who was supposed to be gone.
Vivian looked around slowly, as if he was only observing the weather.
