"Blood flows where you walk. May your blood burn brighter than the sun."
"As it should."
Malakai watched calmly as the Iron Saint, Caelum Sanguine, stood from his bow.
'That's three times.'
The Iron Saint was the Sovereign's right hand man. The man whose authority could be said to be more than the Pulses themselves.
If he didn't want it, no Pulse could force him to bow. No Vein could force him to bow.
However, Caelum had lowered his head to him three times. Malakai was trying to understand why.
"It looks like you're ready to depart, Ninth Vein," Caelum spoke, voice thick.
Malakai gave a brief nod, and Caelum bowed once more.
"I came here to offer you my best wishes," Caelum said. "Sylvastein is a beautiful city, but you must remember, never judge anything by what you see on its surface."
'There it is again.'
If he had suspected it before, now, Malakai just confirmed it. He didn't know why, but Caelum was trying to help him.
'First after the hunt, and now…'
