TOWER OF LIVÁDIANIKA'S POVI can't stop myself from sobbing as I run into my room. Iasias’ statements hurts me so much. I hate to know that he sees me as part of those who makes the world a cruel place for him to be. I hate it because it is true, everything he believes me to be is true. I'm a cruel person who adds to the world's cruelty. Varia barges into my room and sees me crying. I try to hide it like I have been doing it ever since I got back, but it seems she is too smart to be fooled.“Sister, you are crying,” She rushes down to me and since she's now aware, I feel no need for pretence anymore, Instead I give in to the urge to hug her. I really need it right now.“Talk to me,” she demands to know what is making me cry, and even before I speak, I break down even deeper in my tears. I'm still hugging her, and she won't Stop patting my back. “You-you won't understand even if I told you,” I sob.“Try me. Walk me out of your room if I fail to comprehend,” She says,

TOWER OF LIVÁDIAVARIA'S POVI hate the dragons for what they have brought upon sister Nika. It is night now, I look through my window and I see our sisters coming from Spiliá coming through the gate. Grindila and Lydia have long gone back to their coven, but Katerina remains. For now, it is like a merge, Spiliá will join us for now until Nika comes back to support our course. I pick up my cloak and I slot in my hands quickly. It flutters behind me as I approach the dungeon. They are four of them, and I can't tell which room the one named Iasias is. I reach the door to the first dungeon I halt. The keys are dangling in my hand, but the I don't feel the person behind the door is who I want to meet. I move to the second door and I still don't feel like slotting in the key. I approach the third door and my countenance changes. I gasp as I place my hand on the door. There is a strong feeling attached to this particular room. I feel like whoever is behind the door holds something of min

TOWER OF LIVÁDIAVARIAS’ POV After sisters Katerina ordered me to bed, I only pretended to have fallen asleep when she passed by my door and checked on me. As soon as she walks pass. I stand to my feet and I sneak out of the inner gate to see Iasias. When I reach the dungeon, I open the gate cautiously to avoid another ear from hearing it.IASIAS’ POV I'm in deep pain. My broken thumbs and my bleeding wrists won't let me find some sleep. The cuffs keep pushing against the cut and it causes me to lose more blood. It is quiet, so I can listen to every drop that touches the floor. The door opens and I see a shadowy figure approaching me. It is her, she lights a torch and holds it in her left hand.“You are ok!” I mutter, baffled but glad. “You seem glad, why?” She asks.“You could have ran,” she says to me.“The castle is still under a cloak,” I reply.“You could have used my own knife against me, but you didn't. Why?” She asks.“I’m not a killer. I don't pl

ISLE OF AZARIASIAS’ POVMy eyes meet the moon. I takes me moments before realizing that the can't be a moon in a dungeon. The realization of this makes me realize that I'm no longer in the dungeon. I recall the argument I had with Varia. I recall the part where I began to lose my consciousness. I'm weak, it seems like the spell Varia cast on me has side effects. I can't even move my legs without yawning, as though I had been working on the fields. The dungeon is not the only place I'm no longer in, I'm also no longer in Livádia.The ground surrounding me is wet, I don't think the wetness is caused by rain. Its moisture makes it stick to my body. I smell something, I smell a Blosae: A flower which can only grow on an island. I have not been on an island before, but I have seen it before when my mother used to work for the witches in the garden. They had only one of it, and it took them years of nursing it before it grew successful as the climate was not

ISLE OF AGAR The smell of alcohol is what brought me back to consciousness. I open my eyes and I smack my head to resist the headache. Sunlight smites my eyes and I quickly shield them from from its intensity. I try to get up but I can't, instead I roll down the tiny bed I found myself lying on. I groan as I drop heavily to the floor. I lie on my back and my eyes wander the whole room. It is small, there's a red carpet at its center, a rocking chair backing the wall opposite me, several cloaks hanging on an iron rod, a mahogany stool and a ragged curtain at its door. I manage to get up and I trudge towards the door cautiously. My hand sweeps the curtain and I step out of the room. There's an old man by the fire just in front of the room. There's a black pot hanging above the the fire, I peep and I see that there's a liquid bubbling in the pot, the smell of alcohol is strongest in this region so I believe the liquid in the pot is the source of the smell