Prologue: Flowers for Your Grave

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"She saved my life," said Laurance, "and if it weren't for her, I'd have a sword through me right now. It's only right if we properly mourn her."

"Laurance," started Aphmau, "it wasn't your fault that Arabella died--"

"Whether or not it was my fault doesn't matter," he interrupted quietly, "we still need to remember her."

The image of Arabella's immobile body lying in a pool of blood still haunted him. It had happened only a day ago, but it still felt like it was only moments ago that the light left her eyes. He still couldn't believe it. Arabella was dead.

That sword had been meant for Laurance, not her. Garroth had meant to kill him. He had been disarmed by Garroth, still under Zane's control, and then left defenceless. Garroth had charged at him, and he'd known for sure it was his time... until Arabella had come between him and Garroth's sword.

Laurance reminisced the last words that she'd said to him right before they rushed into the forest in search of Zane.

"I can't believe Garroth, that imp..." Laurance had muttered to himself as he ran through the dense foliage, Arabella keeping up with him.

"We're going to find him, and we're going to take the amulet back, okay?" she'd said. "And no matter what happens, I'm sticking with you until the very end."

No matter what happens, I'm sticking with you until the very end.

Laurance had no idea she meant it in the literal sense. That was how she got killed.

He didn't blame Garroth for her death, or anyone else, really. He only blamed himself. If only he had been the one that Garroth killed...

"Laurance?" Aphmau shook him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, I just..." He sighed. "We need a proper funeral for her."

Aphmau was about to oppose this, but after a moment of hesitation, she grimly nodded.

The two of them made their way to the outskirts of Phoenix Drop and prepared a makeshift grave for Arabella. It wasn't much, but it was the least they could do.

The rest of the village didn't come, but that was because neither Aphmau nor Laurance told them about this. It was just a quick, short memorial service by themselves. Neither of them said anything--they just stood in silence in front of the tombstone which read, 'Arabella: For sticking with us until the very end'. The only sound emitted was that of the pouring rain, which seemed only fitting for the occasion.

Laurance didn't know, nor did he care, about the time that went by. It could've been minutes, or it could've been hours. It didn't matter. No matter how long he stood there, even if his legs started to feel like lead, it never made up for the guilt he felt deep down inside. It was his fault that Arabella was dead.

In his hand, Laurance clutched a rose. He prodded himself forward and placed it in front of the tombstone and turned around. He hoped the rain hid his tear-filled eyes that he was trying hard to conceal from Aphmau.

"We should leave now," commented Aphmau, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Laurance nodded, and followed her back to the gates of Phoenix Drop.

Before finally leaving, Laurance looked at her grave one last time. "I'm sorry, Arabella. I'm so sorry."



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