Standing in the rain was the Judge of Rozales, her sword held loosely on her right hand as she basked in the cold autumn storm. Blood trickled from her fist, crawling down with the raindrops on her god-gifted blade and onto the blotches of water below.

An unreadable expression was worn on her face. It's hard to tell, but now that you think about it, she simply looked... Neutral. Her lips were pursed into a thin line, quivering slightly; her eyes locked to the crimson pool that slowly formed with the rainwater.

A flash of lightning blitzed through the gunmetal skies, followed by thunder. As she opened her eyes, you could tell - albeit hard - that there was a tear that ran down her cheek.

"Pluvas... denove..."

She opened her mouth to speak, yet only a soft hum left her lips. Again, she closed her eyes, then her fingers slipped away from the hilt of her sword, clattering on the floor as it fell...

It singed her to part with the woman that died, the corpse laying dead - still warm yet losing heat - in front of her. Knowing full well that it was her sword that ended her, it added another layer of self-loathing on her towering turmoil. No matter the reason, no matter how necessary it was... It's harder to bear it than she'd like. It's destroying her and every aspect of herself, even her unwavering faith towards justice.

Then, at last, words-- Nay, her thoughts, began to spill from her mouth. At last, her heart, now bereaved and lost, began to reveal it's wounds.

"It feels as if... I've lost Rozales again..."