They went to the plaza, where almost all of the people in the kingdom are there to witness the same thing, they are afraid to see. They are not even close to the podium when they see Luna’s rotting head in a lance held up high for everyone to see.
They prepared for this scene, but hairs on their napes stood up from what they see. Their group saunter through the crowds, yet they can’t hear anything. As if the only thing they hear are he drum beating and their ragged breaths.
The sole of their shoes echoed but not at loud as their hearts. The closer they get the clearer they see the image they never wanted to see. None of them wanted to come closer; all of them wanted to back away.
But no one dares; they finally came in to a stop below the pole where their friend’s head is impaled. Her
