Time flows like a river. Ever moving, shaping the land around it, and it waits for none. Not even gods.
I hope the realms our gods inhabit burn, just as ours do now.
Death never bothered me, I just took it as a fact of life. That is, until I couldn't stop seeing his face in my nightmares.
The best we can wish for is death when the end comes for us. Fate had other things in mind for me...
Why was I the only one? I miss them all, so dearly.
This is the second, no, third time he's set fire to a building with me in it. It must be intentional at this point, right?
Blood and steel, two things we mortals rarely run out of. That day in which both were in excess continues to haunt me.