Feeling their gazes was more than just that. It wasn't like what one would experience standing before a crowd and being expected to give a well thought out speech.
No… It was far heavier than that. As though the burden of their hopes and dreams had suddenly been settled onto his shoulders, as though he was their light bearer, as though he was their only hope.
It was a different kind of weight, one that would definitely crush the heart and soul of any man unworthy of it all.
Rollan stood down below, holding onto the small, trembling hand of his wife. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through the space between them, landing on Leonel with a burning light, an endless fervor.
He looked from Leonel's face to the bloodied, four meter long spear in his hand. The crimson liquid dripped slowly from its tip, rebounding off of the marbled steps.
The sound, slow and rhythmic, beat along with their hearts.
"This is your choice?" Leonel asked.
