'Ah… I remember that pain.'
The being who had been Song of the Fallen once almost lost herself in the torment of the dark, dreary memory. The iron stench of blood, the warmth of sunlight shining upon her bruised face, the texture of the blood-soaked bedsheets, the familiar scents of her friends and companions…
She remembered it all now.
In fact, even if she wished to… unless she wished to… she would never be able to forget a single excruciating detail.
She knew now how the calamity had begun, and who the adversary was. So, these memories were of no significance anymore — the memories of what followed were more important.
Perhaps they could explain how she had ended up in this strange and eerie state.
So, she wanted to abandon the memories of that day and turn her attention elsewhere…
But before that, she could not help but pull one last recollection closer.
That memory was not at all important, in the grand scheme of things.
But it was important to her.
