Blackwood looked at the grand door that led into the Holy Seat. The towering palace was a work of art for anyone who looked at it, and Blackwood may have loved to stop and admire, getting lost in its glory. But things were different. Overwhelming dread and fear consumed him with each step he climbed as the though he may never see it again came to mind.
He failed, miserably and the few months he took to return home made him realize the weight of his failures. He had all but set into motion a war. Maybe the Holy Seat could find a way to salvage something, maybe they could win the war against Alfred and the Empire. But he couldn't be sure.
