MINTH
It is late, very late.
She can hear the sounds of the festival, the noise from the great hall dying out as people fall into dreamless and most likely drunken stupors.
The creatures of darkness have begun to crawl out of their hiding places.
Owls and bats waking up from their slumber to fly across the bright moonlit sky, rodents crawling around the empty cobbled streets of the capital now that the inhabitants of the dragon realm have all since closed their eyes and laid down their heads down to rest.
But not her.
Her eyes are wide open.
Staring unseeing at the wooden ceiling of her ornate four poster bed with its velvet green drapes decorated with embroidery and tassels of gold.
She has always hated the color which is ironic considering they are almost the exact shade of jade
