22
Barin
Flames dance along the walls flickering over his black uniform. How long had he been standing here now? Seven, eight hours? Looking over at nothing. A single soul is up on the wall with Barin, another guard; he doesn’t know who he is. Must’ve been from another division. Barin scans the horizon again, but the only thing that moves is the leaves on the trees in the distance. With the hand not holding his staff, he begins pinching and releasing the skin on his thigh. The pressure on his skin burns but it brings a bit of clarity to his mind.
“Our watch should be over soon,” the other guard says, he gestures casually in the direction the sun will rise. “You can make out the dawn.” Barin looks where the man is pointing with skepticism. There is a faint glow on the horizon, but that i
