What she wanted to say was sorry.
But there was no need to apologize.
Dying in such a battle was the best refuge for the now homeless witch hunters.
It was better than living to return and face the loathing and fearful gazes of those they had once protected, being condemned as traitors and then ruthlessly sent to another battlefield by the psychic of the indifferent Circle Tower.
Their lives had become expendable in the war; perhaps this had been their fate from the beginning.
Natalie closed her eyes.
She felt very tired.
She just wanted to get a good sleep now.
Maybe in her sleep, she would be able to embrace her death and reunite with her mother in another world. The memories of her loved ones seemed to have been blurred and tainted in the dark nightmares of war, which was simply unacceptable.
