Project Reverse

Volume II: The Mourning Town Prologue (Unedited)

The chimes of the distant bells permeated the blustery evening. A sound of melancholy amidst the falling snowflakes carried by the wind, settling atop the pile of white that concealed beneath them untold sorrow.

With a sigh, he closed the book he was reading. The bells carried a reminder.

Every day at four in the evening for the next seven days, the sound of the bells conveyed a message for the entire town.

It was to mourn the Lady’s passing.

He knew the day would come sooner or later, but for most people, knowing did not mean being prepared, and being prepared did not mean acceptance. He was not prepared for the townspeople reaction when their beloved leader was gone.

Returning the book to the shelf, he got up headed to the kitchen to get some hot water. The logs in the fireplace crackled and hissed as they sacrificed themselves to keep the fire going.

The floorboards, however were freezing.

He took a sip of water and almost scalded his tongue in process.

“Curses…” He muttered, nearly dropping the mug.

The coldness he felt at his feet crept up to the pit of his stomach. One of the windows was ajar and chill invaded through the gap.

Who left the window open on such a cold day?

As he leaned over the counter to close the window, he happened to glance at the windswept street and saw her.

A young slender lady in her mid-twenties, her blonde hair almost the color of snow, walking past his house in the middle of the blizzard. His voice caught in his throat, trapped by a turbulence of confusion and shock.

He could recognize her anywhere.

The girl turned her head. For a moment, their gaze met. Her pale eyes, emotionless and as still as a stagnant lake pierced through his. His hand was glued to the handle of the window, the cold forgotten.

It was impossible – impossible for a sickly girl to be walking around, in the middle of bad weather, no less.

No.

She should be dead.

The girl averted her eyes and continued on her way, disappearing into the flurry.

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