Asher sat on a wooden chair facing an open window that gave a nice view of the serene view of Nimrim.
He exhaled softly yet felt a little pain that seemed to be illusory. He couldn't remember what happened when those spirits began to appear, but he knew he felt powerful, so powerful that his knowledge of almost every weapon rose up to the level of master!
Not only that, but at that stage he might have forced Torah to wield his weapon, but the cost would have been his life.
Torah saved him.
Knowing this, all his hate toward Torah vanished. He tightened his grip around the armrests of the chair, silently scolding himself for being too brash.
Torah still cared for him after all. The man was just a little too… harsh.
While he pondered, his eyes went to the evergreen olive tree, looking magnificent as ever. At its roots were hundreds of workers. They had built a rope and basket system that allowed someone to control the ropes that moved the baskets.
