The ancient hemp hammock swayed gently beneath the autumn branches.
A soft, rhythmic snore drifted from beneath the white fleece quilt.
Kaelen Vance lay curled on his side, his hands tucked beneath his chin. The lavender beeswax plugs sealed his ears in total, tranquil silence, while the black silk blindfold blocked the pale autumn daylight.
The autumn breeze has just the right amount of chill, Kaelen thought, drifting through a pleasant dream of fried dough cakes and sweet plum wine. No shouting admirals, no exploding meteors, and forty-five thousand men guarding the gate. If heaven had a backyard, it would look like this.
Three days had passed since the Vermilion God-Emperor sealed himself inside the citadel.
Three hundred paces north of Kaelen’s hammock, however, the silence was enforced with ruthless precision.
A heavy bronze blast door stood set into the rear foundation of the Royal Censorate.
Engraved with coiled five-clawed dragons and sealed with nine interlocking padlock plates, it was the main entrance to the Imperial Elixir Depository.
