She appeared to you in a dream at first. A golden, beautiful beacon of light.

You laid in the rubble of the destroyed tower. The pain so intense, that it eventually faded out.

From the corner of your eye, a blinding light appeared as someone slowly walked across the rubble. You commanded your body to move but it wouldn’t, paralyzed from either the fight or the person beside you as they laid their warm, delicate hands across your chest, their words quiet.

“Sh. Rest, fret not warrior.”