The guilt weighed heavier than his thought, that his heart curshed reason. It ate him up deeper, looking down at the body of his protector left him speechless. Just what use was she to herself without her legs?
"What use is crying, at least she's still alive." The white prince said, his gaze still looking away.
His words sunk deep into Aerith filling him with deep seethed rage. "At least she's alive, what sort of consolation is that supposed to be you glorified bastard? How's she expected to let ve without her legs?"
Hizan turned his gaze back to Aerith, in his eyes he saw a very angry young man. His eyes had grown wider, his face had contorted, huge veins had bulged at the sides of his head, growing like vines. Hizan shrugged and then looked up to the sky and spoke in a distant voice. "He's back, things are about to get very ugly."
