Fire erupts. Blue flames create this firework like display. And I breathe. There is a moment where I am on my knees from such power. But that moment passes with utmost haste.
I must. There is no other option.
"We are running low. We can take from the people, and some might willingly give. But-"
My breath would run cold then. I would taste the despair in the air, the light touch of those people who rely on me, feel the possessiveness in my soul. Can I really sacrifice my own property for another day of hope.
"We won't. How much time do we have?"
Damian counts on his fingers, muttering random numbers under his breath. One- seven- three- ten-
"Five days, if they continue at this pace."
"And if their artillery is destroyed? Disrupted?"
He would count on his fingers again. Muttering those same numbers under his breath.
"Enough."
