Capítulo 37: The Aftermath (2)
Sorin adorned himself in black robes and veil, a symbol of mourning as he stepped inside the imperial palace's halls. It seemed as if the very foundations of the empire shook, and the smoldering ruins of The Sanctum burned for days.
The words of its downfall spread like wildfire through the streets of the Empire. The catastrophic fall of such a powerful Sanctum under the hands of demons sent fear through all the citizen's hearts.
Now, knowledge and magic from the tower are long gone. Burned by hellfire and soaked in the blood of their creators.
Sorin's mourning clothes flowed elegantly behind him as he walked through the palace halls—the opulent corridors filled with grand tapestries, those that depicted the empire's history.
...Sorin found it amusing.
All these triumphs will lead to a cruel downfall. A tragic comedy.
He placed a gloved hand to cover his mouth, hiding the smile that curled at the corner of his lips.
"Ah, really, what a sight." Sorin mused to himself, a low murmur before he composed his posture. The smile on his face faded into nothingness.
"Sorin!"
A familiar voice called after him and Sorin just had to meet with his dearest friend. He turned to face the red-haired mage with a solemn expression, hiding the bitterness brewing inside of him.
"Kieran, it's nice to see you." His smile was calculated as Kieran approached him.
The mage gave him a sad smile, brows furrowed in worry as his gaze lingered on Sorin's mourning robe "How are you holding up? I wasn't able to hear from you after the attack." he asked.
Sorin maintained his mask, his expression composed as he responded "As well as one can be...given the circumstances,"
Kieran nodded his head, his eyes bore into Sorin's as if he was looking for more answers "...I was there to watch the aftermath." he confided, fists curled into tight ball. Sorin could trace the anger in him as he placed a comforting hand on Kieran's shoulders.
"They wreaked havoc on everything, strong mages suffered humiliating and brutal deaths...It's unforgivable." His jaws clenched, his gaze moving towards the palace's empty halls.
The veil covering Sorin's face did well to hide the delighted gleam in his eyes as he listened to his friend speak.
"I won't let their actions go unanswered..." He paused for a second, lips parting as if he wanted to say something more. Kieran took a deep breath to compose himself "...They found Neve Adurne's body in the middle of the ruins. S-She was barely recognizable, her skin and face burnt-" his lips quivered.
"-Sorin. They killed her like that on purpose so that everyone will know the extent of their strength." He spoke with such conviction, a mix of grief and anger in his tone,
Sorin's hand was gentle on Kieran's shoulders, a mocking gesture of his concern "Don't worry, Kieran. The tragedy of their deaths will be paid tenfold... every demon will pay for each life they took. The wound they inflicted upon our souls."
The lies felt like honey on his tongue, sweet and warm as he saw the trust in Kieran's eyes. The conviction flowing through the mage's veins, Sorin liked seeing him so foolish... so trusting.
He couldn't wait to do more.
Kieran smiled, the same smile he always had, one that Sorin used to be very fond of. But now, all he could feel was disgust. The warmth of their friendship tasted bitter in Sorin's mouth.
A stark reminder of how low Sorin had fallen.
The trace of lingering regret that used to flicker in Sorin's heart has now died down to embers. Betrayal is irreversible, Sorin knew that well.
Kieran took his hand, his palms rough from years of training, filled with callouses that almost matched Sorin's own if it wasn't for his body's healing.
"...Thank you, Sorin."
Sorin smiled, gaze lingering on Kieran's face that he had found increasingly repulsive today "I didn't do anything, Kieran."
The lie tasted sickeningly sweet on his tongue.
***
The ceremony was as long as Sorin had expected it to be, minutes felt like an eternity of feigned sorrow. He stood in the middle of it all, weighing everyone's grief on his shoulders.
His gaze drifted to Kieran, who stood in front of the crowd, the pillar of strength in this tragedy. From the distance, Sorin could trace the hint of tears in his friend's eyes- unlike Sorin's, his was genuine.
Was he morning the death of the mages–-
Oh dear, Sorin thought. He was mourning the archmage's death. Neve Adurne's death.
Sorin had to bite his tongue to stop himself from letting out any sound. The veil did a good job of concealing his expression.
As the ceremony ended, he left the halls immediately, knowing someone was waiting.
"Sorin."
Neve's voice snapped him out of his racing thoughts, he turned to face the woman, dressed in a simple dress and cloak. Unlike before, when Sorin could sense some semblance of anguish in her gaze; Neve's eyes were bright with curiosity and amusement.
Sorin's gloved hand reached to pull back the edge of his veil "Ne--Medea!" He said way too cheerfully, almost slipping his tongue when it came to her name.
Sorin was still not used to the name Neve had chosen for herself, an alias she chose to hide her identity.
The mage smiled at him "You have to learn to say my name more smoothly, it hurts that you keep forgetting." A teasing smile played on her lips.
Sorin sighed in response "I know. Your old identity and name were synonymous with power and reputation... Medea sounds mundane."
"Hah, the myth of Medea is something I'm very fond of." Neve stepped beside Sorin "Besides, it's very fitting for me, is it not?"
A smile forms on his lips "Mhm. I suppose."
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
summer_cicada
summer_cicada Thank you so much for reading! I'm a new author so please be kind to me. I would greatly appreciate comments, suggestions, and reviews about my story.
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