“We are not three,” Rohan whispered. “We are one Vahan.”
, a scarred young outcast, rode Agni , a Dhwaja Horse—half flesh, half brass, its mane a cascade of burning oil. Agni was prideful, fast, and prone to rage. It had thrown three riders before Rohan.
And the stone that carries the fire.
“We are not three,” Rohan whispered. “We are one Vahan.”
, a scarred young outcast, rode Agni , a Dhwaja Horse—half flesh, half brass, its mane a cascade of burning oil. Agni was prideful, fast, and prone to rage. It had thrown three riders before Rohan.
And the stone that carries the fire.