Glowing, bright and brilliant. A few red strands fall into his vision, to which his hand brushes them away. The view of the royal palace looks extraordinary. It always does; every night. Many tall stone towers, beautiful glowing candles in every window, pointed archways and windows. It stands huge in the distance-the largest item on the horizon. The young redhead sighs and closes his eyes slowly.
"Sander! Sander Ala come here immediately!" croaks a ridged cracking voice from the downstairs. A shudder shakes Sander's body. He sighs once more, and stands up from the windowsill. He brushes off his cinder-dusted pants. "Coming," calls Sander as his feet make their way out of the room.
He pads down the stairs, and walks into the copious room of his employer. "Have you done the wash yet?" mumbles the lavishly dressed employer. He leans back in his soft armchair with his legs propped up upon a plushy footstool. "I finished the wash earlier this afternoon," replies Sander. "And dinner?" asks the employer again, in a rather annoyed tone. "Oh, yes. I shall set to work on it right now, Mr. Yiggnan," says Sander diligently. "Good boy," smirks Mr. Yiggnan as he brushes some of his white hair over his shoulder.
Sander walks from the room and to the warm kitchen. He inhales the scent of the fire and the cinders. The general warmth in the air embraces him as he closes the door. "Daydreaming isn't going to get me anywhere," mumbles Sander to himself as he pulls out a large cooking pot.
"Are you fixing dinner finally, dear servant?" asks a rather snobbish voice from the doorway. Sander swings his head around, spotting a peacock of a man. "Yes, is pork alright?" asks Sander. "Make sure it's plenty marbled. And don't steal any for yourself," sighs the garnished man. He turns his head to the side as his fluffy blonde hair falls here and there about his neck.
"Don't feel the need to watch me, Master Perin. I am sure you have better things you need to do," murmurs Sander as he works upon preparing the meal. "Yes, I was just leaving," smirks Perin as he leaves the filthy kitchen. Sander sighs yet again. "If only jobs weren't so scarce right now," he mumbles.
The sweet spiced smell of roasting pork fills the house. By himself, Sander sets the table to a royal liking, and serves up the dishes. "To supper," he calls. Mr. Yiggnan, Master Perin, and a young woman with golden tinted locks all walk into the dinning hall soon after. They take their respective seats.
"I'll serve them," says a friendly yet tired maid to Sander. He nods. "Thank you, Winesha," thanks Sander as he walks from the dinning room. He stretches his arms and sighs. "Everyday the same thing," he mutters up the stairs. "Do the wash, clean the house, fix the meals, tend the fireplace, feed the cat, make the beds," sighs Sander. He walks back to his favorite windowsill. He peers back out at the glowing castle in the distance. "For once, I'd like something different,"