She stared at the bundle in front of her, too afraid to blink least it would disappear. Tiny needles prickled all over her body, forcing her to sit down on the muddy path. This wasn’t the time to faint.

She tried putting her head on her knees, but the gushing of blood in her ears made her queasy, thus making her return to the same position a while ago, sitting cross-legged right in the middle of the forest.

Taking a deep breath in, she closed her eyes and imagined a clock of white light engulfing her. She let its warmth surround her, filling her with a sense of purpose. She could do it.  Exhaling the last breath, she slowly opened her eyes and climbed to her feet. She had to inform the village chief.

The enemy has struck. And their King was dead. 

Image c/o © JKR/Pottermore Ltd. ™ Warner Bros.

Fiction: #11


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