The acrid scent of smoke hung thick in the air, settling over the town square like a veil. The once vibrant streets, where children played and danced, merchants called out their ware hours ago, and food and drinks were being shared, were not lined with the blackened remains of people’s homes. Small fires were still found in the rubble, casting a flickering orange glow against the night’s darkness. Warriors moved through the entire wreckage, their hushed voices filled with great urgency as they helped the wounded and counted the lives that had been lost.
Luca stood in the centre of this destruction, his expression grim, his sharp blue eyes studying every little detail in the scene. His muscles tensed heavily beneath his dark tunic, his fist clenched angrily on both sides. He had seen war.
