There in the middle of the hall, Draven was knelt covered in his own blood. His eyes….his eyes….were bleeding profusely, but not because of the sunlight issue. This time, they had truly blinded him, but slitting his eyes with a sharpened knife.
The light wasn't enough, Old master lenort needed to make sure he blinded him—he wanted to make sure he put him through before killing him.
"D-D-Draven…" Avelina stuttered, her ears crushing inside of her. "W-what…why…why did you…no no no, no." She frantically began to shake her head, unwilling to believe that it was real. It was a nightmare, it had to be. Things couldn't have possibly gone so wrong…right?
"Ave…Avelina…" Draven's voice was low and raspy. He couldn't see her anymore. Thus the only thing he could make out was her voice and her closing scent which seemed to send him quite some comfort even though it was filled with pain.
