"From this day on, you will write me letters only in red ink, as a symbol of your conviction, and the blood of your people which you shed with your own two hands."
Drakili was seated in the damp forest, a red letter in his hand slowly being consumed by the small fire in front of him.
He watched as the orange flames licked the paper, the smell of burning blood reaching his nose before he finally let go, leaving the paper in the embrace of the fire.
Memories flashed before his eyes immediately the smell of smoke reached his nose, horrid images.
But he had long become numb to the screams.
"I have been waiting for you." He said, as another person walked into the clearing.
The woman was dressed in all black, and a mask shielding the lower part of her face, leaving only her eyes exposed.
Her eyes were captivating to say the least, one was blue while the other one gold, both sharply contrasting with each other.
