I didn’t want to be able to relate to my enemy. I wanted him to be an evil being, with no redeemable factors to him. That was the way I had read it in the books and heard it in the stories. There was a horrible and evil enemy and a good hero to fight him. I wanted to be the hero of my own tale, but Alaric wasn’t looking like the villain. He looked broken and miserable, like someone I wanted to hug rather than fight.
Why was Wyatt showing me this?
I don’t know if he could hear my thoughts, but once again I blinked and once again, the world around me suddenly changed. The rain stopped, the cold mud was gone. Instead the ground was littered with straw and though it was still made of mud, this had hardened and was easy to walk on. It looked like I was in a tavern of sorts, one that was cram
