Theodore.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
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Theodore's heart raced as he neared the mansion, the dread he felt grew with every stride his horse took. Her father was always a formidable and powerful emeny in all their lifetimes. Why had he thought he was strong this time and could outsmart him?
Nature had to make him a witcher, giving him privileges and knowledge, Theodore felt betrayed yet again.
The once grand and serene estate now appeared as a scene of utter chaos. Flames flickered against the windows, and shouts of battle echoed through the air. He could see figures moving frantically inside, a mixture of his men and intruders.
He dismounted swiftly, his boots hitting the ground with a thud, and dashed towards the main entrance. The doors were ajar, hanging loosely on their hinges, as if violently forced open. Theodore's pulse quickened with fear and anger. He pushed through the doors and into the foyer, the sight before him confirming his worst fears.
