The flight cut through the sky like a blade. The clouds were nothing more than blurs at the edge of her vision. Cristine, nestled between Strax's hot black scales, kept her eyes fixed on the horizon, but her mind was miles behind, at the foot of Eldoria's fountain, where her sister lay amid blood and silence.
The wind whipped her face, but it wasn't enough to mask the pain that grew inside her like a stifled scream.
Yennifer.
The two had always been one. Two mirrored souls who grew up between walls of stone, steel, and promises made at the foot of the bed during stormy nights. Promises that they would always be together. Promises that cannot be broken. That cannot be allowed to be broken.
And now...
