Pain was all she felt. All she saw. And all she thought.
Each strike from the swirling aegis of malignancy was a stark reminder of the lengths the people would go for the safety of their Leaders.
But more than that, it showed the resilience of the Great Households.
The air was shrill– impregnated with the smell of burnt flesh and the metallic taste of iron. Cuts, bruises and scarred flesh riddled the bodies of the group tasked with the lives of their Household Heads and the future of the Kingdom.
They struggled with the flow. Held onto the grasping goal laid out for them.
The fate of a plan enacted without full proof.
One could call it foolishness, but they would beg to differ.
If there was a way, then why not act on it?
Motives or not, the truth remained the same… The Heads were akin to God's… their power could not be lost nor replaced.
A new Head would be unable to fill the position of the former and if they could, it would take a relatively long period of time.
