Strax walked slowly through the ruined city, his hands in his pockets, his golden gaze taking in every detail amidst the ashes and shadows. The wind carried the smell of smoke and burnt iron, mixed with the sweet odor of death that still permeated the streets.
His footsteps were quiet, but each one resonated as if it weighed more than the ground itself.
"Hm..." he murmured to himself, lifting his chin slightly. "It was good I waited."
His thoughts flitted between recent images. The old blacksmith Kaelen, his gray eyes filled with sin and penance. The wild mother with the axe, dragging bears as if they were slaughtered rabbits. Both strong, brutish, shaped by suffering in different ways.
Strax smirked.
"Two humans... and yet, interesting." His eyes gleamed in the darkness of the street. "If I can sharpen these two like blades... maybe even this dead place will breathe again."
