"For all the people who have died following me... I am... forgive me for my incompetence, for my weakness, but most of all for being Abellona of Destruction..."
This was what had lain in her heart for many years. She was in her late twenties now, a prodigy about to reach the fourth class.
Years of court politics and battles had raised her from an ordinary princess to an extraordinary warrior princess.
A princess of war. Abellona of Destruction.
Yet for every one of her followers who had died, they had died carrying faith, hope, love, and dreams. They had left something behind.
Some had left their families. Others their wishes.
'Why can't I be Abellona of Love... why can't I be Abellona of Kindness... of Hope... of Peace....'
She could not. She had to be Abellona of Destruction. Wherever she walked, grass would never grow. She was born with the singular, most destructive attribute.
