Music is Cinnabar from the Houseki no Kuni OST, composed by Fujisawa Yoshiaki. Play it! (Also the anime is absolutely AMAZING. If the CG turns you off, trust me it's one of the best parts of the entire show.)
TW: Racism
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The aftermath of the fire is a sight to behold.
Ash drifts in the air. Almost every single building in Battein has a scar left upon it, with varying degrees of severity. Citizens salvage whatever they can amidst the mess. They've been wading through debris for three days now, trying to take their mind off the monsters that had so unfairly interrupted their idyllic lives.
And the fact that some of them have lost quite a few prominent figures in their lives.
At least, that was the picture that Gilbert had painted for me. I've been bedridden for three days now, the wound on my stomach taking an unbearably long time to heal. It was only till yesterday that I've been able to sit upright. At this rate, it might take me a full week to recover.
My gaze drifts towards the window. The snow resembles speckles of stars flashing against the dwindling sunlight. Somewhere in the distance, white-capped hills stand firm, the only part of the landscape that has remained unchanged following the devastation. The villagers are taking shelter somewhere amidst those hills. Grand Seer Fabienne had agreed to allow those whose houses had been utterly destroyed to take refuge in the Cave of Three Souls.
I pull my gaze away from the window. Every moment I spend looking outside it reminds me of my failure. That I failed to destroy the monster when I had the chance, that I had given it the power to stir this chaos.
That Miraterciel has been lost.
The athame has been tucked safely beneath my mattress, or so Gilbert tells me. He's been adamant that I must not reveal my necromantic abilities to Sir Kendrick and Sir Everest, no matter what.
However, I feel the absence of its power keenly. The last strike into the monster's arm had taken something out of it. Whatever magic laced into its blade, whatever potency it had to slay the dead—it's either gone or weakened.
I pray fervently to Pst. Zorah that it's the latter case.
Someone raps sharply at the door. "May I come in?" It's Sir Kendrick's voice.
"Yes," I answer, although I know that he'd barge straight in anyway.
The wooden door opens with a creak. Sir Kendrick, Gilbert and Alvina pour into the cramped space. To my surprise, Maya follows as well, with Sir Everest keeping a solid bound on her hands, of course. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask. All of them have come in to visit me from time to time as individuals, but never as an entire group. Except for Maya—since she'd practically announced her presence with her magic, Sir Kendrick and Sir Everest have been keeping a tight watch on her.
"We wish to discuss the future of this...plan," Sir Kendrick starts, but falters at the end.
Alvina steps in. She's discarded her Seer robes for a more practical woollen gown. "What the Bane means to say, is that how all of us should proceed from here?"
I raise a brow. "You're asking me?"
"You were the one who managed to confront Sir Isaac—no, the creature head on. You know best of his capabilities. If anyone can advise us on how to deal with the infection, it's you," she says.
YOU ARE READING
Legacy (Daughter of War #2)
Fantasy**ON HOLD INDEFINITELY** It's been two years since the great battle in the shrine. However, as Perinus strives to recover from its losses, shadows continue to grow throughout the land... A dangerous sickness is spreading throughout the country--one...