A bright afternoon, a brief rest, a pressure of lips and hands and bodies. Neither one of you was very good at kissing, or at anything else you tried, but it was a start, and it was sweet. You wonder what became of him.
You'll never know. More flashes from your years at the Hidden Schools, where you studied the dark arts men call Craft. A century ago, you would have been burned at the stake for learning these skills—how to raise the dead from their graves, how to hold the power of the gods in your own hands. Then the God Wars happened, and humans won. The Hidden Schools rose in defiance of divine authority, and life became a lot better for people who chose to twist natural law in to their whims. People like you.
You see, you remember…