Marie stepped into the small hut nestled in the heart of Twilight Village, a place once teeming with the vibrant presence of her Master. Time had not been kind to this humble abode; ever since the Sect relocated to the mountain, this hut had been left to the mercy of neglect and dust. The memories, however, lingered stubbornly, as vivid as the day they were made.
The air inside was stale, thick with dust motes dancing in the slivers of light piercing through the cracks. Marie made her way to her Master's old mattress. She sat down, the familiar fabric beneath her offered little comfort. Her elbows found their way to her knees and she buried her face in her hands, a dam holding back an ocean of sorrow.
