Everyone ran to where the great roar was heard.
Cries of helplessness were heard.
"Hurry, we must go to help! The temple has collapsed!
Cynther's residence, Anko, Afriki
Fourth week of 576
The moonlight shone through the window, crashing against her whitish face, contemplating the streets moved by the hurried walking of doctors and rescuers.
In her arms she carried her offspring, nursing it, her mood improved, her body was able to produce enough milk to feed it.
"What could I do tomorrow….?"
"Ivette?" She entered the room without knocking, Ivi startled.
Careful not to wake her son, she turned to the newcomer.
"Na-Nazly... What happened?"
Luw approached, observing closely the beads of sweat that began to fall from his friend's forehead, and the trembling that ran down her legs.
"I ask you, Ivette, what's wrong? Why are you trembling?"
She narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every part of her face.
"We-Well, you scared me."
She swallowed, looked back at the window.
"Do you need something, Ly?"
"I wanted to come see you, can't I? "
She grabbed a chair that she placed next to Ivette to sit beside her.
"Yes, but I didn't expect you to come see me at this hour."
Nazly didn't give her opinion, she wasn't in much of a mood for extensive explanations.
Instead, she looked down at the little boy. And Ivette, turning around, noticed the calm expression forming on Ly's face as she watched her baby.
"Philipart and you... Do you have children?"
This question seemed to have caught her off guard: her eyes widened, her body startled.
Nazly blinked repeatedly and after giving a deep sigh, she relaxed.
"We had one, his name was Alter."
A small smile tugged at her lips, as if her burdened soul was relieved at the memory of the one she so longed to see grow up.
However, the way Nazly had addressed her son caused Ivette to turn pale.
"You-Yo ha-had? That means..."
"He died at the age of five from a very high fever."
Ivette expelled tears.
It was true, at times she put her son in the background to focus all her attention on Arcadio, but she couldn't imagine how she would feel if she lost him.
"I'm sorry about that..."
"Don't worry, we're over it. All we have left are the good memories." And before you ask, no, we haven't tried to have any more children." Philip's been too busy these last few years, so there hasn't been a chance to do... you know."
Her humorous tone cheered Ivette up.
Ly was not affected by the subject, they were over it.
"I..." She suddenly brought her face close to Ivette's, who couldn't pull her head back much as she feared waking Tarvel. "I hope you take good care of this child...."
"Na-Na-Nazly? Wh-Why ar-are you ge-getting so close?" She took a deep breath. "W-would you like to carry him?"
She gently held out the child.
Nazly smiled triumphantly, as if she had won the lottery, something was in her hands.
"Excuse me, Ivette."
She straightened up suddenly, looking at her with disdain.
"Huh? What-What's wrong? "
Fear came over her as she saw the way Nazly was looking at her; utter contempt. She swallowed hard, he was intimidating her, a lot.
"Guards!"
At her command, the door was flung open. Five well-armed soldiers stepped in, surrounding Ivette completely; Tarvel began to cry.
"Na-Nazly?"
Her eyes watered. She had recently learned that it had been Ly who had caused Philipart to revolt.
And now this? It wasn't enough that she had ruined Arcadio's plans, but she wanted to ruin her life too?
"Did you think we weren't going to find out who was responsible for the attacks? You killed more than a hundred thousand people! What are you crazy?! What's wrong with you?! What did you want to achieve with that?!" Nazly would begin to shed tears of frustration, clenching her hands tightly.
Ivette, whose body was trembling with these complaints, understood the reason for the guards' call.
Apparently they had given her away.
In her heart, she believed that she didn't have much to lose, so she only said:
"I wanted to help Arcadio."
When she heard that reason, so stupid by her standards, her face reddened and her fists trembled.
But she didn't hit her, instead....
The wound in the body could heal; however, one in the heart, would torment her for the rest of her days.
"No! Tarvel!" She stood up with the intention of rushing at Nazly, who, with a rough and swift movement, had snatched the little one from her hands.
One of the guards reacted quickly, grabbing her by the arms to stop her.
"Take her to the quarry and spread the news! Let them see what we do with traitors!"
The soldiers nodded and unmercifully dragged Ivette towards the exit.
"Don't take him away from me! Let me go! My son! My sonny! Nazlyyy!"