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Not even one small scar
The man dressed in grey was a sorcerer, the one who brought the storm upon them. Elena sensed it as soon as she stepped out of the carriage, looking around their attackers and the situation they were in.
“Your Grace, don’t…” Whatever Vicente wanted to ask of her, Elena didn’t hear him finish, because he passed on on her feet.
She clenched her fist, trying to control her trembling. It wouldn't help if she let them see her fear at the moment.
One of them grabbed her arm forcefully, and Elena tried in vain to push him away. “Who are you?”
“You will have your answers soon enough.” The leader, a tall man with the most ordinary appearance, smirked as if he’d already won.
“Sir, what do we do with the other girl in the carriage?
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