It was silent as she wandered through the streets of Cileria. Too silent for her liking, actually. The battle was over, no one fought anymore and even though she and her allies won and got control of the legendary ruby crown she couldn’t celebrate with the others within the ruins of the tavern. Not here, not in this place where she spent the happiest years of her life.

As she turns left the women passes her old academy. Just hours ago it was filled with life and the laughter of the students completing their education. Now you can barely even call it an academy anymore, some parts from the wall are gone through the explosions the elietes caused in some places whole rooms are missing. It feels haunted and empty at the same time without the teenagers, gods know where they are now. Most of them fought too but especially the first years had little to no chance to win against the fully grown & educated elites, so one supposes you’ll find many of them within the piles of bodies laying outside the city next to the graveyards.

She feels guilty thinking of them, had she just made more of an effort to get to know them more, to her they would never be just corpses laying around who gave their lives for her ideology.

As she walks on her eyes are drawn to all the well known places who shaped her as a little girl. The shop of the old women who used to give her the little candies whenever she walked by, the then colourful frontage is all monochrome now because of the dust flowing through the air.

The always blooming trees from the park look trist and sad without their glorious buds.

She inhales sharply as she spots a way to familiar house which is way to destroyed to actually call it a house anymore. But it used to be her everything. She opens the garden door which through some kind of miracle survived the hefty fights and steps into the front yard. Silent tears run down her face as she watches the ruins of what once was her _home. _

It was here where it all started, talking to her parents about the injustice happening. Here she raged to her friends about how much better the elites had it. Here they started to form their revolution, but most importantly here she first met him.

She fondly remembers the exact day it was but thinking about it feels like slicing herself open with a blade, now that he is gone. Crouching in front of the flower patch where once grew beautiful roses she sobs like watering the earth with her tears would bring the thorny flowers back. A little voice enters her head, softly it seems to murmur one sentence over and over: _What would life be better if you hadn’t started to think about overthrowing the king. _

Getting louder and louder each time she starts to believe the little voice, and she hates it. It was all her fault, all these dead people and destroyed buildings. All. her. fault.