Petbe died on her birthday. None knew her birthday except me. She wanted to travel the world.To become a priestess.
Petbe died and I lived. Everyone dies. That's the truth. Does that mean life is a lie? Everyone you have lived with, you have felt you have loved was nothing more than a dream? Is there any difference between life and death?
I was never a Spectre. I was not like them because I survived. But history always gets twisted. And only I can tell my story.
‘’Mara’’A gentle elegant yet arrogant voice called me.
Opening my eyes from the darkness, sunlight appeared. I could see the leaves moving in the sky at the top of me brushing my skin. Next to me was sitting a girl near my age, tall and skinny as a puppet. Her short curls were a mess and her bright eyes fell on me.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
‘’Are you crying?’’She asked me with a frown.
‘’What?’’ I muttered and touched my face. It was cold and wet.
Did I have a nightmare? I could not remember anymore. I was sitting on the cold grass. sleeping deep. Looking far from me, I could see the priest trying to fix Icarus with the Soldier and the Mechanic.
Did I…let my guard down?
‘’Did you have a nightmare?’’She asked again.
Nightmare?’
I smiled gently and touched my neck, trying to remember how to breathe.
What was I? What is my story? I could feel Mammon’s ghost all around me digging his nails inside my skin. And then I could see her talking to me, telling me what I had to do. What I am.
‘’Just a thought.’’I forced a smile.