Dying, it’s like being on the edge of a precipice. Except in my case, I wasn’t given the option as to whether I had the choice of staying or jumping. Instead I was pushed. My body, lying there, strapped to a table, as my lifeblood poured from my body, across the ground, and seeping god knows where. My spirit, trapped, lingering due to the fact that we were already in the place, the plane, where souls go. The Underworld. The place I had hoped to one day, some day go, to set my mother’s spirit free. I thought that I had failed.

  Too young, I told myself- only a hundred some odd years old. I was dead. We were fighting for someone else’s cause. All that time it took us getting there, and look where it got us. And what were we fighting for exactly? The memories of before being sent to that dark place, is jumbled and fragmented. It felt almost as if it happened to somebody else. It wasn’t. Weren’t there others, besides us three?

  After talking to Kerth, and finding out how long in our world that we’d been gone, in relation to the short time we’d spent in the Underworld, maybe that’s why my memories are lacking. Or maybe, it’s due to something else, something more. Have I become something else, something more? We were dead.

  How does one come back from the dead, while still on the other side? Seeing my mother’s spirit there tells me that someone else had their hand in our return. Maybe, looking back on one of the few memories left to me, I remember talking with the Death Goddess. How I used to believe it was just a vision, a dream. Now, I’m not so sure. And maybe, what I asked for, oh so long ago finally has come to pass…

  Nysaranthil. The only name that stands out in my memory (I always had a good one at that). One connected to- I believe, that took us from our world, out of ourselves, and didn’t put us back.

  I have to believe that I still have a purpose in existing. I have to believe that whatever happened before leaving the Underworld at my mother’s behest, that there’s a reason I’m still here. What little I know of spirits, is that most of those that come back, is due to something left undone, or left behind. Maybe I’ll figure out which one or both pertains to my existence, and someday make the promise I made to my mother come true.

  With her ring upon a chain around my neck, I know there’s someone else out there, watching over me. I won’t fail her again.