Three months.
Time flew by faster than Edward would've expected. His search for Seraphine turned into a series of failures. Each time, he felt as if he was just a step behind, he found villages torn apart, blood still warm from massacres, but no sign of the girl he once knew.
And the village he was currently in was no different.
'Still warm...' he noted, kneeling beside a pool of blood.
As his gaze lifted, he saw countless bodies spread across the muddy earth. The few wooden buildings were half-collapsed, as if death had come for more than just the people. The whole village was in ruin, as if a tornado had passed through it rather than a single person.
But the marks left on the bodies painted a very clear picture, one identical to what happened at the elven capital.
'Seraphine... no doubt.'
Raising up to his feet, he let out a long exhale.
