Elsa
Tears welled up in Uldrich’s eyes, and I could see his facade crumbling, piece by piece. The hatred and anger that had fueled him all this time seemed to drain away, leaving him looking older, more tired.
“I—” he stammered, his voice breaking. He looked down, his chest heaving as he struggled for words. “I just… wanted things to be different,” he whispered, his voice almost childlike in its fragility. “I wanted there to be peace. No more fear. No more… death.”
My heart clenched painfully at his words. In another life, under different circumstances, maybe Uldrich would have been someone I could have understood, someone who could’ve fought alongside us instead of against us. But somewhere along the line, he’d lost his way, twisted by bitterness and resentment until he became the very
