Amary was not used to seeing or hearing ghosts. For a moment, she thought she was simply imagining the strange whispers she was hearing. Listening more closely, however, convinced her otherwise. Imagination or not, the message she heard was one she could not afford to ignore.


Darkweaver...


In an instant, her hooves left the ground, carrying the doe as fast as they could go. Soon the ruins of the old church came into view, and Amary suddenly found herself skidding to a stop. She let out a loud gasp at the scene several feet ahead. Three figures lay seemingly motionless on the graveyard ground, all of them covered in blood, far more than the doe had ever seen before. Two of the figures seemed vaguely familiar, but she barely noticed them, her focus on the third, much more familiar figure.

Darkweaver...No...


Amary wanted to go to him, but she found herself unable to move. All she could do was stare in horror, her body trembling.

"No..."


Tears began to fill her eyes as Amary slowly began to come out of the initial shock. She began to think of Bastilion, knowing he was also close to the dark stag, perhaps even closer than Amary was. Where was he? If ever she needed him, it was now.


"Darkweaver..."


The doe shook her head, and stepped forward, finding she was able to move now. She made her way slowly on shaking legs towards the figures that lay on the ground. One was wrapped around the body of her friend. She had seen him before, met only briefly one day while taking shelter from the rain with Bastilion. Though she barely knew him, she felt a small amount of relief at seeing him breathing. The other two, however, were a different matter. One of the vaguely familiar figures lay a short distance away from the others. Amary shuddered at the twisted form, recognizing it for what it was. She quickly turned away from the creature, focusing instead on her destination.


"Dark..."


She had choked out the word through the tears that now flowed down her cheeks as she neared the fallen form. Falling to her knees, Amary buried her face in the fur of her fallen friend, sobbing.


"P-Please...I c-can't...I d-don't want to...l-lose you, Dark. Y-you...You're like...f-family to me," she whispered. Amary curled up by the fallen stag, not caring about the blood. She would stay there until he woke up. She knew he would wake up. He had to...






------------








She refused to leave his side, even as the body began to grow cold.


Why won't he wake up...?


Amary didn't know how long she lay there. At some point, she must have fallen asleep. When the form beside her began to stir, she thought it was a dream. Then came a breath, a cough. Her ears perked up, and she felt the familiar spark of hope. She dared to open her eyes, lifting her head and turning it to look at the dark figure at her side. Eyes lighting up, Amary jumped to her feet, her eyes brimming with tears of relief and joy as she nuzzled the stag, burying her face in his dark fur.

"Y-you're okay! I knew...I knew you would be. I don't know...what...what I would have done... I-I'm s-so happy...you're alright!"