The corridors, like rabbit warrens, seemed never-ending. Everywhere they were feebly lit by torches, but nothing adorned the earthen walls other than the occasional brace of wood and stone. It was exactly what Sabíana needed for her mind to wander, making connections.
She let the warriors lead her, and she abandoned herself to her racing thoughts. The situation as described by the warriors was absurdly complicated. Three armies allied together against Vasyllia. At least one of the leaders of that army, if not the one spearheading everything, was Mirnían himself. Mirnían, her i***t brother who had insisted on leaving Vasyllia during a time of war, in search of Living Water, and who had never come back to the people who expected him to be a worthy heir to the greatest Dar in living memory,
