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ON THE ELEVENTH DAY, SHE HELPED HIM CLEAN HIS COTTAGE. After his death, it would be free for anyone to take. He was not too keen on that, but knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Bedsheets swayed in rhythmic waves with the wind, and an ocean of stars washed over the sky above, drowning the light from the sun in the depths.
Her eyes had followed the stars when an idea came to her. It was impulsive and probably going to break his heart. But if breaking his heart meant that he could live, she saw no problem in it. The sacred forest demanded a life, yet it never specified whose life. Maybe, just maybe, she could give her own. The idea was foolproof. After having peered into her own future, she could not see anything past the fourteenth day; meaning her plan had been successful.
If her tears could bring life, imagine what her corpse could bring. Mother nature would be more than pleased and would welcome her with open arms.
He called her name, his tone different from usual, full of emotion. Her heart almost stopped at it. Never had he called her name with such emotions. His voice was always monotone, always hiding his feelings, never letting him slip up once in front of her.
