The marble doors of the throne room groaned open.
The nobles, mid-laughter over some inflated canal project, barely turned to acknowledge the timid Prime Minister entering with the young King in tow.
But something was different.
Gilgamess' gait was steady, his shoulders drawn back as his staff tapped sharply against the polished floor with every step.
King Aurelian III followed beside him, still small and pale, but glancing up every so often as if unsure whether the man at his side was truly the same one from yesterday.
Gilgamess stopped just shy of the dais. His hand slipped into his robes, and with a smooth motion, he uncorked a narrow crystal vial filled with a potion that had a golden color.
Without a word, the Prime Minister raised the vial to his lips and drank.
It was fire and sunlight all at once, searing down his throat and flooding his veins.
