Zelgius roamed the castle and watched as everyone ran about with dresses and suits, preparing for the ball. He sighed while he walked and glanced toward his feet. He would wear what he always wore to every occasion; his armor. He hated his brand more than anything, hated always having to hid what he truly was out of fear of people’s reactions. Zelgius strolled toward the nearest window and looked out onto the beautiful landscape. If only My Lord, Sephiran was here…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He frowned and turned away from the window, resuming his stroll through the castle. I’ll just have to make the most of it, I suppose.
Thoughts of preparation