From the distance, one of the high towers delimiting the borderlines between the two countries became visible.
The great flames of the torch perched at the very top did not rival moonlight but still shone bright enough for anyone within a hundred yards to perceive.
Arabella's eyes lingered on it as her body sucked and gathered as much energy, confidence and courage as possible to proceed with her plan.
Disheartening? Terrifying? Hopeless perhaps? Those words frolicked in her mind as the only descriptors available for her situation.
On one hand, there was the fate of her brother and husband, on the other, the potential demise of the people, the friends that chose to stick their necks out for the purpose. There was of course, the nausea inducing thought of the fate that would befall her once at Cedric's mercy.
The closer to the tower she moved, the bigger and brighter the torch atop it grew and inevitably, the dense weight buried among her entrails swelled too.
