[ALANOR]
The storm was cruel, but nothing was crueler than a sister killing her own sister. The blade that had been used by Edison was Nymeriah's. She should have been careful, should have made sure to keep Edison away, but in her selfishness, Nymeriah had broken the young Wynter's world.
"Mother—" Alanor whispered in the storm as he forced himself to walk towards Ulrike and Zelina, and Criselda who was already turning white.
The young Wynter made careful steps, worried that this was just another dream, like the one he had had about Unar. Of course, he knew Unar would never leave Udrad at this crucial moment, and his subconscious had been tripping into the one thing he missed the most.
So right here and now, Alanor hoped that this was just another nightmare. It had to be, because there was just no way this was happening to him again, right?
