Egbert Yarrow stood watching as men filled in the grave. He had to look strong. He had to pull through this. It would be what she would have wanted - him to be as strong as she was. The tears which streaked down his face told a different story. How could he be strong when the only thing that made him strong had been taken away? Each shovelful of dirt that landed on the grave was another reminder that she was now gone from him. He felt cold - dead on the inside like the still body in the coffin below him.
Dark clouds hung in the air like a vast cape over the world, “A storm is coming…” mumbled a man with dark leather armour at the front of a company of men, he drew his hood up and bowed his head down as a gust of cold wind hit them. A Wall of pouring water was visible rushing towards them. It his them like a thousand icy daggers hit them, nature had no mercy.
With nobody around to comfort my grief and soothe the pain I feel in my heart and my body, I carry a faint hope this diary will help shoulder my discomforts. When time offers itself to me, I will write my story here, so that it too shall know the truth about me, and my experiences.
Caspier Redain opened her eyes and almost instantly wished that she hadn't. Being awake meant being away from the dreams of Fellicity when they were young and innocent or the warm, careless dark of deep, dreamless sleep. Death. That would be a dark, dreamless sleep away from the cares of the world. She craved death and avoided it. She was determined not to succomb to it. Not yet. Redain dragged herself to her feet somehow. Every movement was an effort of both body and willpower. It hurt! Everything she did caused so much pain. How weak had she become?