The courtyard had never looked so heavy.
Rows upon rows of warriors stood in formation, their armor glinting under the sky that seemed almost unwilling to shine. The wind was aggressive and fierce.
Thorne stood on the raised platform, his eyes fixed on the thousands of them. He was convinced his daughter was alive. Carter was everything but not dumb; having Virelle served him better than her dead. Thorne knew that much.
Thorne cleared his throat, and for a brief moment, nothing came out of his mouth. They all shared in his pain, in his grief. They knew and had seen the damage caused by the former head councilman.
Still, he chose to give a speech.
"Carter has taken from us again, and again, and again, up until now," he started, his gaze settling on each of them. "He has taken our peace, our joy, our safety, our people. He has taken my daughter."
