Finding Souls | closed with thecursedspinner
In a cave shaped as a skull, a boy who had once grown up then decided he did not like that stole the heart of the Truest Believer out of his chest and used it as his own. A pulse of magic swept over the island and into the ocean’s depths.
On the sea bed, a body wrapped in white dislodged from the detritus and moved with the current.
Some time later Milah stood on a sandy shore, wringing out her hair and grudgingly getting used to the idea of wet leather chafing her skin.
What had happened? The last thing she remembered, aside from a voice in the darkness, was her heart - no, the last thing she remembered was saying ‘I love you.’ She figured as far as last words went, those were admirable ones. Before that, she remembered her heart in the palm of her husband’s hand.
Her husband. Rumple. The Dark One.
Her hands fell to her side in annoyance as she surveyed the jungle’s edge. Had they been near a jungle? Did it matter? Her husband had apparently just killed her and she would be having none of that, thank you very much.
“Rumple!” Her voice echoed and bounced off trees and flora. She sneered at the idea of going into that thick darkness. “Don’t make me come in there, Rumple, I know you’re here!”
Actually, she didn’t, but in case he was, she wanted him to think she did.
