A whole day had passed since Canna and his companions began their desperate search through the ruins of Avaloria. Every single person, from the mightiest of Canna's subordinates to the smallest of the Verdant Wardens, combed through the charred remnants of the once-great kingdom, hoping against hope to find some sign of life. Yet despite all their efforts, there was nothing.
Not a single living soul had survived the carnage. The silence of the dead kingdom weighed heavily on everyone.
Frustration gnawed at Canna's heart like a relentless beast. He had been so sure that they could save someone—anyone—but now it seemed that all their efforts were in vain. Desperation drove him to summon Mortem's collection of undead, their spectral forms spreading out to cover even more ground in their search.
Canna gave the order to scour every nook and cranny of Avaloria, leaving no stone unturned. This kingdom was vast, and he refused to leave until they had searched every last inch.
As the hours dragged on, the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the devastated land. But still, there was no sign of life, only the charred remains of what once was. Corpses, burned beyond recognition, littered the streets, their final moments of terror frozen in time.
Monsters, drawn by the scent of death, scavenged what little was left, their presence a grim reminder of the kingdom's fall.
Canna found himself sitting on the scorched earth, his strength and hope ebbing away with each passing moment. He looked up at the sky, the once vibrant blue now a dull, lifeless gray, as if the heavens themselves were mourning the loss of Avaloria. A sense of helplessness washed over him, the weight of his failure pressing down like a crushing burden.
This was the first kingdom he had ever been a part of. And now, it was gone—destroyed before his very eyes.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and red, Canna finally wiped his tears away. He stood slowly, his resolve hardening once more. There would be time to grieve later. But for now, he had to be strong—for those who were still alive, for those who were counting on him to lead them.
Canna returned to the sanctuary, where Mira and Stormbringer were waiting. Mira, sensing Canna's sadness, wrapped her small arms around his neck in a comforting hug, her presence a balm to his wounded heart. Stormbringer, too, seemed to sense Canna's pain, nudging him gently with his massive snout.
Canna smiled faintly at the two, their innocent concern bringing a measure of peace to his troubled soul.
He spent the rest of the evening with Mira and Stormbringer, letting their simple joys and playful energy lift his spirits. The little beastkin girl had grown attached to Canna, and seeing her smile brought warmth to his heart. Stormbringer, with his towering form and youthful curiosity, played along, his deep, rumbling laughter filling the air as he gently teased Mira with his tail.
As the night wore on, Canna felt a renewed sense of purpose begin to take root in his heart. The pain of Avaloria's loss would never fully fade, but he couldn't let it paralyze him. He had a mission—a dream of building a sanctuary where no one would have to suffer such a fate ever again.
Canna looked down at Mira, who had fallen asleep against his chest, and then up at the stars twinkling in the sky. He knew what he had to do next. The Kingdom of Arenthia, he still had something to settle ther.
With a final, deep breath, Canna made a silent vow to the stars. He would protect those who could not protect themselves. He would build his sanctuary, no matter how many obstacles stood in his way. And he would make sure that no one else ever had to experience the kind of loss and pain that Avaloria had suffered.
It was time to move forward. The next step in his journey awaited, and Canna was ready to face it head-on.