"Don't make me laugh!" the Priestess spat. Thunder rumbled restlessly from the sky.
Zera half expected for lightning to strike the ground and cause another destruction. To her relief, none of that happened.
Still, the Priestess seemed mad about her suggestion.
"The past is irrevocable. What do you want me to do? Bring back the dead?"
Zera scoffed.
"Do you have the power to do that?" the Priestess replied, sounding amused. "Can you bring back the people who had been sacrificed for your ancestors to seat in power?"
"No," Zera stared at the Priestess. "But I can remind you that I have nothing to do with your anger against the people who had hurt you directly."
"I need no reminding, child."
"Hm," Zera snorted. "You need to be reminded."
"I do not!" the Priestess insisted. "Do not change the subject!"
Zera undoubtedly knew she had somewhat hit a chord.
