The young man had been made an officer in Emperor Alrishitar’s army just six months earlier. His father, the general, currently met on the other side of the door with the Emperor himself. They were deciding on Mezar’s first mission. The young man stood and smoothed down his red uniform, shifting his silver sword to lay in a more comfortable manner on his hip. An arched window stood opposite him, and he made his way over to the opening. He opened the glass casement and let a slight breeze blow across his brown skin and ruffle his shoulder-length dark black hair. With a young-looking face, and only of average build, he looked older with his hair down, although it was not in keeping with the current fashions of tying it back. The sun spread its morning rays through the late autumn air, sending sparkling reflections onto the domed white rooftops. Mezar had lived in Gildan his entire life. He knew the city well and loved his homeland. Gildan was clean, secure, and beautiful, unlike some of the other cities in neighboring kingdoms.
