Standing in front of the graveyard, Erik walked forward with the intention of finding out whose graves these were, and as he looked at the name on the first stone, he immediately had his answer.
Erik closed his eyes and sighed.
"They really are the graves of the people who died that night," he mumbled before a small smile appeared. "That raises the chances someone survived. I wonder who it was? And whether they're still alive today…"
Elora's melodious and soft voice sounded from the side. "You know there's an easy way to check, right? I doubt whoever buried them did the same to him or herself."
Erik chuckled a little at that thought despite the morbidity of it. "Good point."
He started to move from stone to stone as he traced the names with his fingers, each one evoking a face, a story, a life. They were more than just names; they were the legacy of Frostvik. The legacy of his youth.
