Immediately after the meeting, Roxy went to find her first born.
Though her mind was busy with the plague, she tried to appear sane when she pushed through the training grounds door.
The heavy, rhythmic thwack of wood striking hardened leather echoed across the Manor's back training grounds.
Roxy stepped out onto the back porch, the cool afternoon breeze ruffling her silk shirt.
She leaned against the wooden railing, her eyes softening as she watched her firstborn.
Drax was wielding a massive wooden training sword, a weapon so heavy a normal human couldn't even lift it, swinging it with a effortless grace.
His black wings were tucked tightly against his back to improve his aerodynamics as he pivoted, striking the training dummy with enough force to crack the thick internal log.
He looked so much like Zarek it made Roxy's breath catch. He had the same broad, imposing shoulders, the same dark, unruly hair, and the same fierce intensity bleeding from his eyes.
