"She has passed away."
"!!!"
Glarus felt a pang in his heart, but before he could continue to inquire, Gonnia asked, "Who are you exactly?"
"I, I'm just a lonely ghost."
"But if you really are the daughter of Motis," Glarus asked, "do you know a man named Glarus?"
"..."
Gonnia's eyes widened as she looked the disheveled old man up and down.
His hair was caked with mud, his face was covered in a beard, and his tattered clothes were marked with the traces of whipping. His pants were ragged, exposing parts from the knee down, the legs and tops of the feet were covered in laceration marks, among which there were fresh wounds, bloody and mangled.
Inexplicably, Gonnia felt a pang of heartache.
If this person truly was Glarus, Gonnia could not bear to think further.
"You are, you..."
Gonnia looked again at Fiona, who had finished her spell and nodded vigorously, "He he he, he's the real brother of Aunt Motis!"
"..."
Gonnia fell silent for a third time.
