Old Wheelchair

The General disappeared in a puff of golden life essence, leaving behind an unresolved tension.

"What the hell kind of decision is that?" Thomas spat, glaring over at the Knights' Academy, where Alexander had run off to. He began to pace: "Elero, we've all seen how well you fight. Out of everyone, you deserve this spot-" He paused, seeing as Elero wasn't listening. She looked for some place to go but there was only the flat, empty plane of the mountain's dirt peak.

In the cold night, among the sea of clouds and the starry sky, Elero's curses rang out like thunder: loud, powerful, and successive. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she let her legs turn back into mush. She put her face in her hands. Occasionally a muffled curse rang out. "Fuck this. Fuck the academy. Fuck everything. It's all just a bunch of bullshit."