Willios had been a proud young man in his youth. And why shouldn't he? He had a long history of high breeding in his blood coming from an house that had been kings in old times, the reckless foolishness of youth, and a strong body perfectly matched to its ambition.
He was the one who had successfully conquered The Fingers nearly a decade ago, wresting the fortress from the old Lion's clutches and beginning the terror that the Core had lived under for the better part of that decade. He had thought, in that glorious night, that he would be given an entire, gleaming page in the history books.
Now? After nine years of grinding, pointless war, that he himself had caused against the state he had once proclaimed he would die for?He long wondered where that youthful hope had gone.
