Atticus hovered high up in the skies of Eldoralth.
If he had to be honest, this exact scene had happened one too many times for it not to feel nostalgic. It always occurred when he was about to do something serious.
There was just something about hovering in the sky that set him at ease. It was too serious, too purposeful.
Occasionally, he'd glance down at the world he had built and be reminded just how far he'd come. Then he'd turn back up and be reminded how far he still had to go until he reached his goal.
This was his sky. He owned this world. He controlled all. These thoughts set him more at ease than anyone could ever believe.
The past week could be said to be eventful, more than Atticus would have liked. He had increased his mother's talent, and she'd formed her domain and ascended into the Grandmaster ranks.
A banquet had been held just yesterday, and right now, it was morning.
