Sitting on the edge of Mourning Echo Cliff, Shadow revelled at the sight of the destruction nibbling its way towards the horizon, slowly but surely.
With every hamlet catching on fire, his dark plumage ruffled with evil satisfaction. There was much left to do, but the very esquisse of his early work gave him an exhilirating pride. He had painted misery on this land one furious brush at a time, and the whole picture screamed with pain and despair…
Still, he wondered how it could be so easy. Shadow had always imagined that the peasants would have gathered and tried to fight back. He had expected a little resistance, and yet, his death trail had gone rather smoothly, so far.
Of course, he knew he had to remind himself that she could be a menace. He didn’t know why, Cibelle being so frail and innocent looking. But looks could be confusing and the best way to hide great hidden gifts.
If only he could let her taste the powerful sweetness of tyranny. If only he could snatch the pure nymphet from Vohne’s arms.
I might let her live… He thought outloud.
Shadow stood up, and took a deep breath, inhaling the floating ashes of the men and women he had crushed under his pitiless heal. Spreading his wings wide, he plunged into the pitch black sky, chasing Cibelle’s portrait out of his mind.
Navigating gracefully above the moon, Shadow started picking one star after the other. Just like candies, he cracked them between his teeth, before smiling at the thought that it was making Cibelle and Vohne’s way that much darker to walk through.
It is just a matter of time…