His body was cold and he had breathed no longer.
This was her first loss.
At the age of twenty.
Blood.
Yes, she had seen blood.
Estariell fell to her knees.
"Foolish boy." She spit out.
"Foolish!"
Yorvick had gone on an expedition with his sister, into The Barrow Downs.
Hoping for something the two could live off of.
Riches.
The skies were dark and the unnatural wails of the dead were heard.
Dread had fallen upon her heart.
She too was still young and had just barely completed her training.
She was alone in the fields of dead men.
Her best friend among them now.
A wicked looking blade was found hanging from his gut.
He was clutching a necklace.
Creaking bones were heard and foul songs erupted from the mouths of the dead.
Only armed with a bow and a sword, Estariell had tried to fight against the foul Aura she had felt.
Surrounded by Whights in which she was in no place to face.
Her death was certain in her eyes.
Until the most likely, fellow came to save her.
((To be continued.))
