[THE MIDLANDS]
"Duck, kiddo!"
Criselda was tempted to save her son, but Alanor had put them in a barrier that protected them from the attacks. The high priestess of Greroth was desperate and wanted to help minimize the risks.
Then again, the son she wanted to save, was letting out maniacal laughs as he looked at Nymeriah who was sending a bunch of trunks to him and he wasn't even fazed. It was almost like Alanor wanted to see how far the woman would go, or maybe it was to test Alanor's limit.
Whatever it was they both were doing, was easily making Criselda into a mess. This wasn't how she lost the child she had loved for so long.
Somewhere in the fight, Criselda had managed to remember the young prince of Udrad, the man who loved Alanor more than he loved himself.
Criselda knew that if anything happened to her crazy son, then the young prince would avenge Alanor and that was a long line of vengeance that the Midlands wasn't ready for. Maybe she could stop her sister.
