Chapter 35: First True Battle
The morning sun crested the horizon, gradually dispelling the veil of darkness that had draped itself over the forest. Within the quiet stillness of the tent, Asher’s eyes fluttered open, their purple hue catching the soft rays that slipped through the fabric.
"Good morning, Young Master," came Lyra’s gentle voice from the side.
Asher offered a faint nod before asking, "Is there a river nearby where I can bathe?"
He had assumed a stream would be close enough for that purpose, but Lyra shook her head with a knowing smile.
"No, Young Master. I’ve already taken care of it," she said, gesturing ahead.
Asher stepped out of the tent, the warmth of the morning sun brushing against his face like a silent welcome.
"Good morning, Tenth Sun," the five guards said in unison, immediately bowing in respectful greeting.
Asher gave a brief nod. "Did anything happen during the night? Any disturbances like an assassin?"
"No, Tenth Sun," one of the guards replied, his voice steady and respectful.
’So, nothing then,’ Asher thought silently, his eyes scanning the tranquil forest clearing where they had made camp.
Three tents stood in the quiet morning light. The first belonged to Asher himself. The second, slightly smaller and more modest, housed the coachman, an ordinary man among warriors. The third tent, before which Lyra now stood silently, was unfamiliar to Asher.