There was a way.
Something that can break the curses both Nesrin and Izekiel carried. He wouldn't be bound by the shackles of his darkness, nor will she be forced to sacrifice everything because of her spiritual prowess.
"At what cost?"
Nesrin asked as they crossed the ghostly quiet hallways, and yet she couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was eerily watching their every step.
"You will understand," Izekiel replied, not caring to elaborate further.
And she resumed her silence with a heavy heart that ached at his indifference. How can anything ever justify brutal murders of innocent people? It was not even a war borne out of a noble cause.
Izekiel became the villain she had feared all along.
The castle was abandoned long ago, it seemed to be centuries old, and the only places worth inhabiting were the few chambers that survived the wrath of time. There were broken walls, missing stairs, and an ancient air that hung around the castle.
