Memories and thoughts surged out, transmuted into something ineffable.
If it were robust adults, or perhaps children with few memories, they might have endured the process.
But how could an elderly person withstand it?
Aunt Lydia merely mustered her last bit of sanity to stand upright and, with her still sturdy arms, took her unconscious husband from her son's hands, a balding old man.
There was a vast wound on his head, and he clutched a bloodstained kitchen knife tightly in his hand, obviously having fought alongside his son before escaping.
"What about Lika?"
Cradling her husband, the old lady's voice trembled as she asked for news of her daughter, only to be met with good news, "Have you forgotten? Didn't your brother-in-law say he had a surprise for Lika the day before yesterday? That lad bought a new carriage in Axle Town, and this morning, he took the family to see Baron Dandelion's flowers."
