Ikarius, kings of kings and sons of many great powers before him. He was the last of them before the revolt of his Empire.

Hoards of terror and pure evil brought him down to the Chambers of Oríon, where his fingers slip down to the void of eternal distress and long wanted peace. But I had a choice..

For I knew that if I grabbed his wrist it shall only be to say my last goodbye before the swarms of devil spawns granted him a suffering much worse than letting him go.

I loved him, I couldn’t bring myself to let him go.

But I can’t help but get the feeling that brining him up was worse than letting him go, worse than a betrayal.

All I could remember was his shrieks before his soul dropped lifeless on the cobbled ground.

Maybe the void wasn’t such a bad idea, for this has scarred me of true emotions.