Nesrin's heart sighed in relief as she glanced at the crumbling city. The flames were no longer as strong and violent as before, neither were the darklings. Things finally seemed to calm down after the tiring hours.
She lifted her eyes and glanced at Izekiel.
He sat against a wall, under the faint rays of moonlight that casted shadows over him. Traces of blood were scattered near the sharp straight line of his jaw.
His eyes were still as dark as before, as mysteriously deep as before. They carried the hints of moonlight as Nesrin wondered what he must be thinking.
Nesrin's eyes lingered a little too long at the rigged tear near his abdomen, there was no blood but it showed how close he had come to a fatal injury.
As an emperor, he wasn't required to fight his own battles.
