The first continent had reeked of destruction and death—
A magician with his round glasses cracked, had lied flat on the floor, crawling. He left a trail of blood behind as he crawled. Orwell Lotheringwood was defeated by a warlock general, Greed.
The building was on fire.
Is this how he will meet his end?
Is this really how his life would come to be?
His head was bloodied and the red liquid had tricked down to his forehead. His green eyes darted towards the burning block of wood that was about to fall towards him, but then-
"Lotheringwood!"
A girl with a light-blond hair and was wearing a dress that had intricate patterns of gold amidst the white, ragged and half-burned edges, had come to rescue her. She cast a barrier around Orwell, and immediately she rushed towards him and then threw the burning wood away by the use of magic.
"Pries…tess…" Orwell murmured.
