Alina struggled to unleash every bit of strength left in her as she went crazy. She had woken up on the back of a wolf and was told she was found unconscious. The wolves were taking her to the portal where she was a bit relieved to know there was finally an escape for them, but when she heard everything about the witches and what they've done, she rushed towards the portal asking if anyone had seen Astarot but she didn't get a positive response. No one had seen him and everyone was busy rushing into the portal that mysteriously only allowed dragons in.
Alina had rejected all voice of reason to enter the portal as she turned round, rushing back into the forest, pushing against the horde of monsters, her heart thumping erratically as she fought her way through to the place she thinks Astarot might be. The last wall.
Finally, she saw him. Astarot. But he was with someone. A witch who was riding on his back. And like she feared, this witch suddenly thrusted a terrifying dark spear into his chest from behind! That spear...was the doom of all dragons and the terrible aura it released was definitely felt by all dragons still alive in that forest. Though she screamed, Alina could do nothing to prevent the spear from piercing through Astarot's chest.
Just as Astarot's body fell from the air, Alina summoned every bit of strength left and managed to reach him. She was crying profusely as Astarot didn't respond to her. Then she set her sight on the two witches smiling like they had done something great and finally, Alina went berserk.
While all of this went on, no one noticed a lone masculine figure standing on top of the dome, quietly watching everything that was happening...
___________
Year 252 AGB*
In a dilapidated mud house located in one of the slums in an underdeveloped Pine Town, which in turn was located in the vast Lycanthrope Kingdom.
The sun had risen for quite a while, and one could see some rough men and few male teenagers moving around in the room. Next, another man came in and they all huddled close, speaking in whispers while glancing at the corner of the room where a boy laid down, sleeping on a thin bed of hays. It couldn't even be called a bed as the hays were just thin, few and scattered on the hard ground. Soon, they finished discussing with smiles on their faces.
"Hey! Hey brat, wake up!" A man's rough voice sounded.
"Somebody smack him if he keeps sleeping like a log of wood over there." Another rough voice sounded while grunting.
"Onit!" Someone replied, rushing towards the sleeping boy and kicking him off the scattered hay on the hard soil. The kick got the boy flying into a mud pit on the road full of pedestrians and clinking of various horse hooves driving different kind of carriages along. One coachman even whipped him with the horsewhip while cursing the boy at the same time for getting on his way and delaying him.
Everyone went on about their business but no one helped the boy up, nor showed him any care or sympathy.