The horned one who she thought was Magnan at first kicked up his sword and pointed it at her. He spoke with an echo in his voice and pink magical flames appeared in his empty eyes, that same pink magic approached her and it sounded like the most beautiful song she had ever heard. But Draegan...
For years she watched over his grave... For years she watched, waited, tended the stone. Even when it fell into the sea she followed it to this resting place in the frozen lands. It had been her obsession to forever watch over the dead hero of her city. She even became dead herself to do so. But...
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