hope born by plum

Kamish lies in a mess of mangled limbs and speared by thirty-five hundred tons of ice. A massive icicle, more like a stalactite, stakes the dragon to the ground. His eyes, a vicious golden color, had gone dark before he hit the ground.It’s over.Sowon’s breath freezes in the air despite the heat that radiates from the still-burning buildings. She’s managed to separate herself from the other Hunters, landing herself back home.Frost creeps up from her fingers as Sowon shivers violently. Her body doesn’t seem to want to move anymore, freezing from the inside out. Her mask lies on the floor, cracked but mostly intact; she can’t say the same about the sword though.After the whole battle, she’s going to die from her own doing. Sowon laughs hysterically, breath crystallizing in the air. She leans against the wall in the kitchen, a glass of water, now frozen, shattered by her side. At some point, she slides down the wall to lie on the floor in a fetal curl. What a way to go.It's only the beginning.