A proper goodbye

"Risna" Itziar drew her escort's attention.

The brown-haired girl looked at her and raised her eyebrows. Words were not necessary; her gesture was enough.

Itziar glanced sideways at the tents around them and lowered her voice.

"Do a lot of people die outside?" she asked almost in a whisper.

"You mean outside the camp?"

"Yes," Itziar nodded.

Risna frowned, considering something for several minutes in silence.

"There are casualties," she answered honestly, her black eyes revealing her seriousness as she spoke. "It does not happen every day, as our legion is the strongest and most experienced in dealing with beasts, but in a war, there are certain things that are unavoidable."

Risna's countenance darkened at the thought of her fallen brothers.

Joining the Royal Legion was an extraordinary achievement in itself. However, the collective high level of skills was equal to the risks its members had to take.