A thirteen year old boy walks alone in the Riddermark, the wind tearing across the unsheltered landscape to rip the hood down from his head, revealing those cold eyes, those eyes which have seen things no child should ever have to see. There is no emotion in that face, the blank look of indifference a clear mirror of the soul. The boy cares little for anything now, not after everything was taken from him. of course, there is...was... friends in Edunas, and family.
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Leaving.
