My steps were hard, fast, and heavy, my chest tight as I cried for my own misfortune—Arinya's misfortune.
My heart felt like it had been pierced again and again, every beat aching, every breath soaked in hatred and grief.
It was such a cruel life.
Damar and Fenric followed close behind, but they did not stop me. They only watched. And when I could no longer walk—when my legs finally gave way and I dropped to my knees, surrendering to my sorrow, wailing uncontrollably—they came to my side, patting me gently.
I clutched Fenric's leg, sobbing harder, my voice breaking as I repeated the same words over and over,
"Why me? Why? Why?"
The sight of it shattered their hearts.
All the excitement I had carried—the hope of seeing my mother and leaving without regret—had twisted into something unbearable, something so painful my heart felt like it would burst.
If I knew things were going to be like this, I wouldn't have been so adamant, stubborn to see her one last time before leaving.
