The entire Darkhelm castle was in uproar.
It wasn't the same kind of frenzy as the wedding preparations just days before. This was the complete opposite of the joyous occasion.
Grief had coiled around the towering pillars, sinking into the very black stone of the castle as if it belonged there.
But then again, had it not always been here?
This oppressive rage was what they all had been witnessing for decades.
It was the arrival of the blessed healer who had turned the Darkhelm castle into a brightly lit home of happiness.
However, with this one incident, the lingering shadows of sorrow were back, pressing heavily onto the shoulders of the servants, forcing them to keep their heads down.
They dared not make any mistake as they hurried to do their assigned work.
In the center of this storm was Allen.
The Alchemist had been called urgently to check on Xion, and since then, it had been three hours.
