After three months, the survivors who were injured either died, healed, or struggled on in a state of half-death from wounds that couldn't quite leave. Some of those who were in the later bracket wandered around the main great hall of the castle where the most sunlight got in, too handicapped or sick to help with the maintaining of the small castle town that had developed, but still having too much health to die.
Gus had never been in this room. He found out about it by following the bitter stream of sorrow. Few paid him any mind when he stepped in. Any eyes that fell on his bright silver hair or red eyes looked away with only a trace of wariness. What more suffering could dark magic do to them in their state?
One man in the corner actually emitted warm feelings of welcome when he saw G
