The Final Rose

ROANA

Glimpses of fate bring light to your despair
Realise hope isn't short of your grasp
Resurrect every dream that you've buried alive
And never succumb to the war that you fight

Son of a High Priest, huh? Well two could play that game. Roana sheathed her sword and leaned forward so she could look him in the eye, clearly unimpressed. ”I am the eldest child of a legendary warrior and inheritor of his dragon blade, Krosis, and yet here we are.” she said dryly. The former captain grabbed the man by the back of his shirt before removing her foot from his arm and hoisted him up in the air with ease in what might seem a surprising feat of strength. She rolled his eyes at his cries of injustice for the sick.

”The blight makes people violent, so yes, some are being jailed for their and everyone else’s safety.” she said, glancing towards the imposing stone edifice of the penitentiary as she made to walk that direction, the man still held in her hand like a cat with a mouse.

Your world is coming apart
Remain steadfast