There was something eerie about the cries. It sounded as if the one emitting such misery had lost more than just earthly possessions, but loved ones, experiencing a soul-destroying grief.
Stepping over fallen vases, he entered the shattered doors, stepping into the once extravagant chamber of treasures.
It didn't take more than a glance to find where the crying nobleman was, who sat on his knees in the center of the room with a face covered in tears, drooling from his mouth as he sat there wailing.
"There he is," Gaston said quietly, "The hell's he doing, though?"
Bastian squinted his eyes to get a better look, seeing that the broken shell of the pompous nobleman held his crown in one hand, and fragments of the shattered crystal in the other.
