In front of him, was a young man. Probably twenty years old, could be less. Either way it didn't matter. He was one of the last still living souls in this place. All the others were already dead, or about to be.
You could see the fear in his eyes, as he desperately tried to crawl away from the scene, yet unable to look away. His comrades, slaughtered. His guild on fire. And the air he took, was now filled with the stench of the dead. And in front of him, a man clothed in black slowly approaching him. While others stood behind him, watching as what the dark man would do. And looking at the poor soul, with grins and smiles so wide, as if they were children at their own birthday party.
But now in front of him was nothing but a single carved obsidian rock. Shaped in a rectangular form. With on all sides, the names of those who had been crushed under the heel of the dark guild Savage Skull.
All around the memorial statue were flowers. No bouquets though, but planted flowers that grew in all different shapes and sizes. With some having even the brightest colors Frederick had ever seen in his life.
It provided a harsh contrast with the cold black stone that stood in the midst of it. It was almost becoming uncomfortable, as the stone represented death. While the flowers were flourishing with life.
For a while now, Frederick had been standing there. Staring at the perfectly cut rock. Or better yet, staring at one particular yet random name on it. Asking himself if that was the man he had struck down, or if it belonged to anyone else. Who had he become if he was still left breathing.