CHAPTER FOURTY-SEVEN

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F Y R M O T,

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[ A L A N D T O T H E E A S T OF E A S T L A N D ]

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N I N I A S, F Y R M O T

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There was silence, and only the sound of the disturbed waters stood dominant. The morning sky was pale, and there were few clouds that stood noticeable. The water that rested under the sky above Fyrmot was, well, the only source of water in the whole of Fyrmot. . .

Fyrmot was only an outskirt of the great desert of Deñark, and for this, it only escaped the wrath of the sands by accident —causing the land to be dry in every other region apart from the small water body that was found at the edge of Eastland.

A pale young woman who had just clad herself in an attire made of black leather, had just walked out from within the sea, and no single drop of water dripped from her hair. Her pupils emitted a bright blue light, and her hair had not lost its sheen.

She looked around to see if anyone had s