Over at the High lords coven, the air of gloom had not left since that night. Death — could it be called death, that which existed not as human but as nature had gone back to where it belongs.
Having lost their comrade, their leader, the two old woman were shrouded in a layer of sadness, even though they knew it was meant to happen they still felt saddened by her demise, their melancholy was understandable, when a loved one or a close companion dies, no matter if person had accomplished his or her life goals or dies at a long and peaceful age, the feeling of being left behind and having lost a part of you bring undeniable hurt.
As Erina walked into the large hall that had a vine-covered concrete throne in, she was overwhelmed by the sorrow that hung in the air, it couldn't be seen but it was eminent that something was missing, something important has been lost. She did not need to be told to know that her master has finally left this world.
