Feleon watched as the three Suns began to sink below the horizon line. The end of the Solica Day, and he was exhausted.
The ceremonial paint suliced off in the shower water, turning it green and blue with the dye. It seemed weird to think that he was now considered a sareop like his Papay before him. A fighter worthy to compete for the place at the hand of the crown.
The final sun began to sink below the horizon, turning the sky green as it did so. Nelti it was called, for the Goddess of Dreams.
And Feleon did have a dream, so daring that he could not tell anyone, even his own family.
He wasn’t just going to be at the hand of the crown.
He wanted to wear it.