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When would this madness end? There was no explanation as to why it had gotten this far. How had they succumbed to their most basic violent tendencies in this way? Killing brother, sister? And for what?
Toval could not say.
Wiping the blood from his arms, he stares eerily at the weapon in his hands. At the sound of a garbled death rattle in the distance, the lirpa falls from his hands and rolls from his feet.
It is enough. We have destroyed ourselves, mind and body. Toval falls to the ground with a heavy wail. In the end, nothing has been won. The wars must end. Something must be done.