Swords are bloody, bodies tired. Eyes scan for familiar faces among the dead. Horb, with a spear in his chest, had two children. Kaer, his skull shattered and his brain spilling out on the bloody squares of the capital, always made absurd jokes. Nearby, Prince Alawado holds the woman he loved, unable to hold back his tears. Polen... She was raised by you as well as Alawado.
Your gaze drifts to the distant, splendid palace. It's so close. Soon, when you reach there, this ordeal will end...
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