XXXIX – A Warrior’s Dance
The storm had passed. Watching the sun rose up the sky of River Lights, Azaiah read it as a blessing, another day to live, another chance for victory. Azaiah’s blue sail was the only ship survived, his gut twisted seeing his men getting drowned helplessly in the Elora Sea. He had never seen such nightmare in his fourteen years of existence and what had just appeared before their eyes made him shudder. It was like getting a glimpse of The Pits or as what the common people knew as Hell. They docked the ship on the River Light’s shore, puzzled as to why nobody helped them defeat the Sea Monster. “We should hold a proper funeral,” Thaeros said as he gently carried the woman and put her down on the soft sand. “I thought Phoenixes were nothing but tales,” Aza whispered, staring at the dea
- Writer
