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Here’s Zenyth’s next part:

Zenyth watched Kenem run off. His blue eyes followed the dark figure till it disappeared around the corner of a building. He pressed his lips together, the sapphire eyes narrowed into slits.

“Under Reza’s thumb as always,” he muttered, “I almost feel sorry for him. . . I’d never let myself be in his position. . . never again at least. I’m done with being under someone else’s rule,”

He gritted his teeth against the flood of memories that came rushing back to his mind. His hand sought the handle of a dagger under the edge of his coat. The knife had been his one faithful companion over the years. With it he had slain the tyrants who had ruled him as a child. He had avenged his own blood sweat and tears. From there he went on to rid himself of all rule. For his in his eyes, wherever there was rule, there was abuse of it, leading to oppression.

He pulled himself from his past back to the present. His mission here was done for now. He started forwards. He would report back to Vanessa.