Prince Khane descended gracefully, carried by his essence, landing softly on the ground with his sword held horizontally in his hand. His presence was commanding, his every movement imbued with quiet power.
His hair was tied back in a ponytail, though a few strands of his front hair framed his face. The cold breeze swept past him, ruffling his clothes and tugging at his hair, making him look almost ethereal.
He turned his head slightly, gazing toward the sea with an expression that carried a hint of nostalgia. Then, as if shaking off a lingering thought, he looked forward again and began to walk.
Not far ahead, he spotted two horses standing near the path. Without hesitation, he mounted one, his instincts taking over. He rode forward, aimlessly following the dirt path that stretched ahead of him, with no clear destination in mind. The dawn's pale hues melted into a brighter day as the sun rose higher, washing the world in golden light.
