The man on the throne, who should be Endirius, appeared to be sleeping, but his hands were red with blood up to his elbows. But something seemed subtly wrong with this picture, and Andar's mind tried to piece out what was drawing his attention; when he sight zoomed into the bloodied hands of the man sitting on the throne and saw that the blood was not still, it was moving as if it had a life of its own.
It was a small detail, but it enhanced Andar's sense of wrongness, almost as if he were looking at a shadow that had taken a person's place. Endirius, sitting on that throne, radiated great heat as if all the flames of existence were housed within his shell, and although his eyes were closed, flickers of fire could still be seen straining to escape the bounds of his eyelids.
