Hyacinth was covered in scalding burns. She must've blacked out or something, and for how long she didn't know. Looking around, the homestead was still burning slowly, but she didn't seem to be aflame. To what was more devastating, she wasn't sure.
The former mansion was burnt down to ash, still smoldering. Part of the house was still standing... (will continue)
Her clothes were covered in soot, and her skin singed with ash. Smoke covered the whole clearing, inky toxic acid filling the air. The distinct scent of acid ink was all too recognizable to Hyacinth. She was alive, and they were... unknown. It was her doing.
With all this evidence, right in front of her face, she felt so lost. What does she have? What has she lost? She didn't know. And would probably never will, it seemed. 680Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMtEi8fzPj9
Nothing had been achieved by her disloyalty. The captain, his wife, his children, all gone. That, she knew for certain, a heavy gut feeling undeniably strong. Did they deserve to die in doom just because their father took away children from other people? The Louivre maybe, not her. 680Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsg1mrLqNQI
