The Fallen Saint stood opposite the White Saint.
All life save for them and the angel behind Ara had been extinguished.
"You waited until you were the last one standing, and you waited here..."
They were in Zimrest, right in its courtyard.
Yhidawach had taken his helmet off to speak with Ara one last time.
"I thought you better than that."
"Those swords in your eyes, there's more of them now."
"I suppose there are... tell me, did it trouble you to stand by and do nothing as I killed?"
"No. It didn't."
"That was a lie. If you wanted to stop it you should have tried."
"I would've died!"
"Maybe so... But I would have fought, even knowing that."
"Enough banter! The toll has come to take and it chooses you Yhidawach! My Hope and prayers will shatter your Omen! All those you have killed will become my weapon against you."
Ara drew her sword, which glowed white with blessed power.
"Here I come Fallen Saint, can your evil withstand my Hope?"
YOU ARE READING
World Without Song
FantasyA dark and grim tale centered around the life of Yhidawach, a young knight in service to the Empire in a world consumed by an endless war.
