A fragment of letter drifts down to the street. You catch it, and unfold the charred edges.
"...know I will always lov..
..at never dies. It is th...
..f my passion that b...
...nd it cannot be ext..
....n heaven or....n hel..
....ill be by you...ide an...
......
...... yours foreve.........
... Mendates ........
..................................."
Looking up from the fragmented text you glance around at the rooftops. There. A minute snowfall of scraps of letters is cascading from the chimney of a half-timbered house nearby.
By: ephemeralstability |
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In the Time of Dying Stars, countless children warped by the black rain were slain after birth as monsters and hellspawn. A special one lived, to her dismay.