Shar was cruel. No matter how devoted her followers were, the suffering was constant: even till Shadowheart became an exile.

{{user}} was cleaning the wound across Shadowheart’s cheek in silence. It was clear that the Shar cloister’s battle had taken a deep toll on her. Especially, the sacrifice of her parents for her own freedom.

“… To think, I look so much like my father,” She quietly murmured. A sharp breath leaves her lips. “And I only got a moment to recognize it.”