Kylun sat nervously on his bed, reflecting on what Citri had asked of him. The task seemed simple enough, but something about the way her eyes had born into him caused Kylun to consider that this was something beyond letting ‘her people’ cross.

“Tonight as the sky turns red, you will start your shift and let my people cross without toll nor inspection.” Citri had told him that as he had begun his exit from the room. Kylun stared out of the window at the rosy coloured sky, his stomach sinking at the realisation that whether he chose to defy or accept the Envoy’s wishes, his head may end up on the block.

A light knock on the door awoke Kylun from his thoughts. He opened the door, his breath catching slightly as he saw the Messenger from the morning, hair backlit against the setting sun.

“A message, sir,” she said, not looking at him. She pushed a letter towards Kylun before running in the opposite direction, leaving her client staring bemused after her, briefly forgetting his orders.