The page reeked of rust and dried roses. The ink had bled through the parchment as if the writer couldn't stop pressing harder.
I fed them honeyed wine until it burned their throats.
I laid silk blankets over brittle bones and whispered comfort into hollow ears, wishing them mercy.
When they cried, I kissed their tears… but I could not stop.
There was always one more mouth I wanted to show mercy to. One more soul I needed to shelter.
They told me I was beloved. They told me I gave too much.
But why, then, did they scream as they died from the amount of mercy I showered them with?
Why did their eyes beg for endings when I only offered more?
- Lord Alven the Merciful
For a long moment, no one said anything.
Then Luna exhaled.
"Merciful? That's not mercy; this bloodsucker was a proper lunatic. A lunatic among lunatics…"
The others turned to her. The Storm Valkyrie explained.
