Kestra stared at the broken jar in front of her, her brows furrowed and her lips drawn under her teeth, blood dripping down the puncture.
She shivered with rage, dashing to the broken jar on the floor, with the scattered scales that glimmered under the dim golden light of her room, as tears swirled over her silver orbs.
No.
It couldn't be.
It just couldn't be broken.
She pulled a robe over her, hiding away her silk and transparent underwear. Then she dashed out of the room, down the hallway, and straight to her magic room only to meet horror.
All the jars that she had stacked over the years had all broken, fallen down the shelves, and shattered on the ground, the scales spilled everywhere and mixed with the sharp, broken pieces of glass.
