The sound of a spell makes everything become silent, as he walks away into the desert. No armor, no weapon, no spells. His love and himself. Alone. The dream became true. He cried.
He pulls out his dagger, prays for the last time to his beloved god and gives himself the embrace of death. Hot blood runs from his throat, to the stiff sand, as he falls to his knees. A scream breaks the silence.
She runs to him, crying and screaming.
“She survived”, he thinks. “Thank god, you’re alive. Now someone can mourn for me”, he says with lips stiff and eyes closed. His last gasp is followed by her loud cry.
She runs the blade through her stomach. She takes her life and comes close to him.
Forever.
Angus Firson, "The Undead"
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