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  • “Is that what you all can do?” Lucian, a mighty warrior raised his eyebrows. His wings were both spread widely as they stood enormous, and large behind his back. No sweat could be seen on his forehead nor his cheeks on contrary with Eros, who can barely stand up as her legs wobbled. Her knees felt weak, groaning as the pain left her limbs to where it climbed out with fatigue. They were burning, her flesh was, her arms were even soaked, but then—entirely, her whole body was damp with sweat. She could hardly breathe as her chest thump—her heart beating wildly as she felt almost numb.
  • “I’m sorry.” She said.
  • However, how can she not be tired? The next day after the naming ceremony, she was sent to train alongside with Lucian. Lucian was the one who is known for being brave. He leads war. He heads victory on his grasp. And Lucian is much more larger, he have bulk arms, chiseled chest bulging against his armor made of the hardest metal, weighing more than what she can assumed or mostly the thoughts of each angel that would see him that it was heavy, tons and tons of weight that a normal or an average person wouldn’t be able to withstand. It could have brought them downhill, so forth the fact of how it could have break one’s bone. In spite of, Lucian seems like it was not bothering him either way.
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