𝟬𝟯𝟭 ━━ the presence of your ghost

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˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ THE PRESENCE OF YOUR GHOST ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT THREE  ── face et spera 🏹 ⁺⑅

*。☆。 ★。\|/。★˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱ *✧ ─── ❝ ❪ THE PRESENCE OF YOUR GHOST ❫ ❞ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT THREE  ── face et spera 🏹 ⁺⑅

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ WAKE UP!
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ? 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝘮𝘺
𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 ❞

*✧ ─── GYDA GASPS, THE AIR IS LIKE SMOKE THAT MAKES HER THROAT BURN. IT'S DARK, A PITCH BLACK SEA AND SHE'S ALONE. In the depths of the unknown she stands with a heavy heart. Beneath her feet something slithers, and suddenly she feels a certain wetness at her feet. But she can't make out what, thicker than water and as dark as ink. She wants to reach out, but her hands remains glued to her side. A realization shudders through her with a spike of fear that burns like the very fires of Mordor. Gyda swallows nervously, taking slow, cautious steps forward.

The liquid sludges.

The air is thick, tension wrapping around her body like a vice...like thunder waiting to strike.

"Hello?" Her voice echoes, echoes ─ echoes before it finally fades in the distance of the void.

A giggle pierces the air and Gyda spins, hair fluttering but nothing is there. Her body tenses, taut muscles and her hands reaches for the pommel of her sword.

She can feel her heart. Tut. Tut, tut in her throat.

Her fingers wrap around nothing.

Hazel eyes glance down and she finds an empty scabbard. A shaky breath leaves her parted lips, and she blinks as if it will make her sword re-appear. She heaves in a deep breath, tries to gather her racing thoughts... to think, to know, where is she?

Another giggle and Gyda twirls around, frantic eyes gazing in the dark abys.

"Gyda!" A songbird voice, the lilt of childhood.

"Who's there?" Gyda dares call out a hand above her head to shield her eyes as a sudden bright light explodes in front of her. A harsh wind pushes her, and more giggles follow. But they sound more...broken?

The light dims until in the distance there is a small beam that burns like a beacon of hope. She moves without noticing it at first and the closer she gets the more sounds reach her ears...familiar sounds. The rushing of water, the birds and their melody, even the wind carries a tune she knows by heart.

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