Save for the pillars, the hallways were completely burnt, the once beautiful walls of Arcadia reduced to nothing but a debris. The chandeliers hung high burning in unison with the flames that palace guards were so much trying to extinguish.
The dungeons were located below the keep. Isadora ascended the staircase, a distant growl of what could be a trace of Alexander sounding in the distant. Corpses lay everywhere, burnt beyond recognition. The remnants of their silver armors was the only evidence of the knighthood in them.
Then, at the end of the staircase came the sea of darkness. Save for one hole on the whole that allowed a thin ray of light, the rest was all but dark. A fresh scent of burning flesh lingered in the air. Isadora wondered what had become of Alexander.
