Oz watched as Illya moved one step backward. Her blood-red orbs wavered as she fought the urge to avert her gaze. Listen, she urged herself before judging Oz.
"Does that mean you have been our enemy all along?" Illya hated how weak her voice sounded, but she hated the pain reflected in Oz's eyes more.
"I do not condone the actions of my mistress, Illya. But I also understand where her hatred is stemming from."
Tales from days of yore slipped past the blonde's lips, telling the girl his story. An unfortunate girl who has experienced what it's like to be hated, and it is she who knows Illya's struggle more than anyone, but her life is taken to death's door. A witch whose name even Oz cannot remember anymore.
"She wasn't a witch, but they made her be one."
The girl is burned in raging fl
