The halberd wielder chuckled darkly.
"It's a shitty way to die, I'll tell you that. My grandfather died the same way."
Nero inhaled slowly through the cloth.
The air tasted bitter now.
Dry and thick. Laced with ill intentions, much more than just dust.
He exhaled.
"Charming place," he muttered.
The halberd wielder barked a short laugh.
"You get used to it."
Kua didn't laugh.
Instead, his gaze lifted toward the horizon.
Toward the massive ridges of bone that rose like broken mountains in the distance.
"No," he said quietly.
"You don't."
The silence returned for a moment.
Then the halberd wielder glanced down at Nero again, looking at him really hard this time from head to toe.
A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
"You're rather small."
Nero raised a brow.
"That so?"
"Too small," the man continued casually. "Even if you pass the trials, you'll just end up with a quill in your hands, or in the stables."
Nero was silent for a moment. Then he smiled bitterly.
