The Light bringer rose from his golden throne, and slowly made his way over to the captured prisoner that knelt before him. The prisoners bag, his transportation gift, swinging softly in the Lightbringers soft, perfectly manicured hands.
The God's bare skin radiated with heavenly light, made extra clear by the pure white toga he was wearing that left very little to the imagination. Toga, was a kind term for what was essentially a white sheet that moved diagonally across his chest once, and wrapped around his waist to form a skirt that was so short it barely covered his smooth, shaven legs.
