Cornelia walked slowly toward Sevette's unmoving body.
Each step felt heavier than the last, not because of exhaustion, but because of the strange silence that followed the battle.
The cracked ground still smelled of iron and scorched stone. Blood that had once moved like a living thing now lay still, dark and dull, seeping into the fissures beneath their feet. The guards stood frozen, hands hovering near their weapons but unsure whether to intervene.
Vance hovered several steps away, pale and shaken, his pride bruised far worse than his face earlier.
Cain remained where he was, arms loosely crossed, eyes fixed on Cornelia's back with an expression he himself did not fully understand.
Cornelia crouched down in front of Sevette.
She stared at her for a long time.
