Jul 30, 2015
It's late at night, the clock strikes three. You hear a rustle in the corner of your bed room, and the sound of faint laughter. Or is that crying? "Are you coming to my wedding?" A voice whispers in the dark.
Rahela feels a chill up her spine and she freezes, eyes wide in horror, but staring at nothing. She wanted to believe this was over. That day in the Deepcroft was a black, miserable failure for the Warrior of Light, and she wanted the grief to fade to the back of her mind, for time to distance herself from the tragedy.
She should have known it wouldn’t.
“It-it can’t be... Edda...”
