In recent days, Oswin Suniva, the governor of Province Suniva, had been working tirelessly to resettle the victims. Or at least those who didn't look ready to attack others.
This was his land, a place he and his ancestors had been guarding for centuries.
Being on the border, they had long maintained their own personal army, something that had once made the previous duke uneasy.
The current Archduke, however, had been generous, sending food supplies during the harsh winters of the past decade.
Everyone, including Oswin himself, had believed things were moving in the right direction.
But this sudden disaster had left his hair white, as though he had aged decades in mere months.
At night, he tossed and turned, plagued by nightmares of screaming people. Before dawn, he dressed and returned to the endless burdens of counties still under his command.
