“This is Curling… The land in which I was
born and raised.”
Ansandra sounded somber as she peeked out
the carriage’s window to see her homeland after the long journey back there.
The scene before her eyes was not the one
from her memories.
The Bastore Plain was blessed with
plentiful grains, but Clanaria’s thorough endurance strategy had rendered it a
wasteland nearly void of green.
When she had left this place, she had never
even dreamed it would ever look like this.
So very much had changed in the past two
months – a mere two months.
(And it is all my fault. This is the sin I
must bear…)
“So it is not over yet.”
Lorent spoke to himself when he saw the
famous Curling Castle.
“…Indeed.”