The Red Claw Academy burned like a roaring fire. While the groundwork for clashes was laid everywhere, someone pushing his hair, starting to cover his beardless face, backward lay down on the heated marble. The thickness of the marble surrounding the edges of the ornamental pool might suffice for a normal person, but it covered only half of Mel's back, yet the young boy did not complain about this.
With one hand in the water and the other touching the path decorated with cut block stones, he enjoyed the day. He cared not for the sounds of water a few steps from his ear, the thousands of feet beating the ground, or the whispers people started upon seeing him.
