Murphy held the cool glass of water, the chill spreading from his palm.
He cast a final glance at Aurora's slender silhouette by the window before downing the glass of water.
Setting down the glass, he stood up.
He offered no farewell. Just as he had countless times before when leaving to attend to the affairs of his domain, he walked to the door with a steady gait.
The moment he pulled the door open, Aurora's voice came from behind him, soft yet incredibly clear:
"Be careful, brother."
Murphy's steps faltered for an imperceptible moment, and then the heavy oak door closed silently behind him.
In the bedroom, only moonlight remained, streaming in to illuminate Aurora's solitary figure at the window. It was a gentle light, as if it could brighten the entire early summer night.
...
Deep in the night, the continuous mountain ridges resembled the jagged spine of a great beast, their silent, stark outlines traced by the dim starlight.
