Defeat

The letter is scrawled hastily, as if something is more pressing, something that is happening soon. The typical handwriting of Stitches is ruined by this, and it is written with such haste, that he does not remember to address it properly. Nameless, it continues to whom he writes it for, without greeting.

((to read the previous part of the story, click here))

There Aeruthuil sat, Aadyn's lifeless body in his arms. He rocked back and forth as he shook his head, muttering to himself over and over, ''This isn't real, this is just a dream as always.''
He chews his lip, closing his eyes as tears ran down his face. All that went through his mind, was Aadyn's smile.

It was a cruel night – dark and cold, empty of emotion yet corrupted, and it stabbed Nenusidh’s warm heart like a knife. The land was giving the ranger a message – a rather bitter message at that, that there cannot be mercy. The moon was neither bold nor strong enough to best the cruel skies, and the stars were too few and much covered. The land was covered in darkness, yet despite so, there was a fragment of light within the ranger.