Aesther's mind dipped into the past.
The memories of starry skies and the festive air came back to her. She was kneeling on the ground, frozen from a raw terror.
Ezrahl was in front of her, carrying his sword that ominous gleamed under the moonlight.
He looked down at her darkly.
She did not know what happened back then.
The whole valley of the dragons was flooded with death and blood. As soon as she saw him, Aesther begged Ezrahl to do something.
But when he spoke, her world turned cold.
"They could not be saved," he told her, in the same cold tone, "It was too late."
And then, she saw the gold gleaming in his dark eye. The curse marks that were etched on his neck.
Ezrahl had massacred the dragons.
But those weren't the only ones.
