Seasons passed by.
Morielle was riding the leith one stormy night. It was a zata night when lightning bolts flashed and burned anything they touched. There was no rain, but the sky was pitch black like it was always during this season. It seemed that they lived in the dark for the entire season. If it weren’t bolts of lightning, they would be attacked by nature through hail storms or hurricanes. She thought it might be in a few days when either of these would happen. At the moment, Orabea was assaulted by hundreds of bolts of lightning in different time intervals and in different places.
A wizard paid by the Yet’hoda, as it had a budget for it every year, protected the buildings of the soldiers around the training field. But the training field itself wasn’t, and Morielle, with the other
