wildfire.

Ram didn’t consider himself devoutly religious beyond his baseline belief in Aznas the Strong. His father really hammered dogma into him as a youth and he resented it, so once he became king himself, he swore he’d never insist on pushing any of the Gods into the lives of his children… or at least, back when he believed he would become king and have children of his own. Those days were long gone now. 

But even still, he did feel a longing to meditate at least once a week, which he did in solitude and away from peering eyes in this private chamber of the castle. He may have not been king, but a Pithou was a Pithou, thusly granting him access to most rooms in their royal residence. A special one reserved solely for meditating, he’d been told by his father. Nobody ever bothered him here; he may as well have been up in the mountains completely alone when he came here. Or at least, usually.

Ram hears the giant steel door behind him creak open, but he does not address the interruption or even so much as glance his head backwards to face it. His eyes remain closed, peering into his inner self as he sits on the cold tile floor, trying to remain in his state of zen despite the other person.