"If your whole life turns out to be a lie, what will you do then?"
"If everything you knew turns out to be a hoax, what will you do then?"
Graciana Duerre Weasley, twin sister of Ron Weasley, is a troublemaker. Mischievous but a little introvert, bo...
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THE SILENCE WASN'T OVERBEARING, neither it was ringing in her ear, nor was it giving her the feeling of emptiness. It simply was. In this eternal silence, she could hear the rustling of air blowing outside and the sound of the sea water splashing against its shore and her own breathing. The warm wind blew through the window making her fiery red hair fly behind her.
She stood in the middle of this ancient architecture which vibrated with thousand years old memories and once had been bathed in blood and now is the symbol of freedom and light and courage. The Temple of Auðhelga had always felt familiar to her, like she knew it from somewhere, like it recognised her too. Her eyes took in the old paintings on the wall and she brushed her hand against its old paint.
"Tick Tock, Freya Abildgaard."
It was expected, she had expected it. Turning around, she saw her clone standing there a few feet away from her. It wore the same black obsidian dress which reminded her of oblivion, the same ancient yet aristocratic and magnificent dress which she wore in every other dream before. But this time instead of the dagger, the clone held a thin, slender, knotted wand, the wand tip aiming straight for Grace's heart. She cast no spell, nor made any move to strike; she opened her mouth to speak again.
"Tick Tock, Freya Abildgaard. It isn't long until the sky falls and you're left to bear the weight alone. History will repeat itself, you better be warned."
It was a reminder. A threat. A warning.
She opened her mouth again, after a moment of silence, her voice taking on the sing-song lilt used only when reciting poems or fairytales, reverberating against the old mighty walls, surrounding her, in a blanket of serenity, marred only by the warning, the graveness, the words:
