Death of Hwaiwaicaya
"I don't care about your heritage. You have to fight it." Her words echoed through the cold, dead floors of that decayed castle,
which was now only infested by the ghostly cries of an ancient dying race.
Deep down she knew her plead came too late, that her love came too late,
he was already slipping into the shadows.
As the vines sunk deeper into his body, draining the precious drops of life out of him,
he squeezed her hand once more, and sighed heavily,
heart flapping weak as a dying bird.
"Sweet child.. Remember me, as you tread on soft leaves and shady paths, take shelter under a tree,
in the dance of a gentle breeze or a warm fire. I'm right there, holding your hand. We shall meet again in another life.
May these short moments of joy with you be blessed in the river of time."
The story is my own, it came together in the process. Maybe some day I should write a full novel! :D
© Kirsi Salonen, all rights reserved.