Bab 622: An Elf's Tale, Part 28

Eshwlyn awoke with a start, the echoing sounds of a nightmare still ringing faintly in her ears, a rare sun was pouring into her bleary eyes through the frosted glass of her bedroom window. 

Clangoring metal. 

Exploding rubble. 

An infinite freefall. 

And those deep black dying eyes, a pitch darkness staring into her soul once more. Every night, like flashing glimpses from a whirling void, Remelda's face continued to haunt her dreams, her final words rumbling in the nothingness, turning sleep into something Eshwlyn learned to dread. 

It has been two weeks since the incident in the village. Two weeks of grueling monotony, two weeks confined to bed and healing. The many injuries she sustained from the battle with Remelda compounded further by winter fatigue had pushed her body far beyond the brink and as such—collapsed, and stirred no longer.