She paused, a small, painful memory flickering across her face before melting into a radiant, beautiful smile.
"She carried the weight of thousands of lives on her shoulders, starving her own soul, smothering her own desires, and burying her youth beneath the heavy mantle of the Warchief.
She was surrounded by thousands of clansmen who worshipped her, yet she was utterly, agonizingly alone.
No warrior in the basin dared to look her in the eye, let alone stand beside her as an equal.
She was suffocating under her own brilliant talent, stuck in a dried-up puddle of a region where her spirit channels were calcifying day by day."
Kira raised her hand, resting her warm, soft palm flat against Sol's cheek, her thumb gently caressing his cheekbone as she looked straight into his soul.
