Prince Basileus stood at the helm of a small, single-occupant spacecraft. He preferred silence as he prepared to go into battle.
His orange eyes were unfocused as he got lost in his thoughts.
Despite the fire constantly burning inside of him, his heart felt cold.
He had grown impatient as he waited for information about Varya to reach him. It had been months. No one could locate her.
All he asked for was confirmation. He needed confirmation so he could decide what he was fighting for.
His heart wouldn't settle until there was concrete evidence in front of him of what had happened to Varya. Each day he begged the universe for an answer: is she or is she not out there waiting for him?
He often wondered if he would keep fighting so hard if he found out she was dead.
His impatience for an answer was quelled, at least momentarily.
A battle had broken out within his jurisdiction.
