"Your Grace…"
Leave me alone. Can't you see Fiora is dead? Do you not care? Do you even realize the Great Potion Master of all time is lying dead in front of you?
It was just one of several voices that buzzed around him. Fiora's hair was singed and splayed about the floor.
"Lucas…!"
Another insistent voice broke through his remorse at not being able to save her before she made the ultimate choice.
His master who had taught him everything he needed to know about healing. How to cook proper potions and who taught him the most about the human culture that he needed to navigate to be with the one he loved. She had delivered his firstborn and taken care of all of them without a single thought for herself. So many lessons unfinished. How was he supposed to listen to anyone else in this moment?
