Ezra! A single name is associated with everything evil. A name he took on to protect himself and his mother. A name that brought hell to heaven's door.
He lived by his name even today as he stood on the peak of the mountain. Dressed in his full battle years, Ezra watched the people fight for their lives.
His gaze was no longer the same that would look into Samira's. Nor was it the familiar vulnerable ones that Malik was used to seeing.
The person standing beside him now was the little boy who looked at him with disgust and hatred. The same boy who promised him death for the pain he was forced to go through.
On this day, Malika stood, pride oozing off of him for his little brother. Regal and strong they stood side by side ready to wreak havoc on the enemy.
A storm was roaring above their heads as the battle continued below. It wasn't his doing and knew who was responsible for it immediately.
