The next morning, the bright sun shone high in the clear blue sky. The air was fresh, but it was filled with dust and the loud, harsh sounds of clashing metal.
The carriage from the Benson mansion rolled slowly through the wide, open gates of the military camp. The heavy wooden wheels crunched loudly against the dry dirt road.
The carriage finally rolled to a complete stop right in the center of the busy camp, near the large command tents.
Immediately, a young, heavily armored soldier rushed forward. He saluted sharply and quickly opened the carriage door.
Damon, wearing his pristine, dark blue military uniform, moved smoothly. He stepped out of the carriage first, his leather boots hitting the dusty ground with a firm thud. He stood tall, looking around the camp, completely in his element. He was ready to start his busy day of commanding his troops.
He took two steps away from the carriage, mentally preparing his orders for the morning meeting.
