FROM: General Debinani Rahl
RE: Late One Night
Late One Night….
Alexander stirred in his bed. His sleep was fitful, full of
nightmares of what once was and what could be. The Spirits
of the Dead flitted around and about his bedchamber,
sometimes stopping to look upon him with pride or disdain,
and sometimes just brushing their hands across the
venerable stone and bookshelves in the room, trying
desperately to touch what once they were so close to.
Something stirred at the limits of Alexander’s
consciousness, just a flitting sound or shadow, and he
On his chest lay the dreaded Dagger of Marinetta, and on it
was tied a small note in a child’s script:
“Where I go, you can not follow. Please forgive me.”
Alexander fingered the dagger for a moment, and then
hastily packed it away with his other treasures.