The pale lady walked down a lonely, winding road. Her steps were silent, save for the clumping of hooves on the gray stone. Her fair horse followed her in her endless wandering. The case of this undeath was unknown. She awoke and found that her heart no longer beat within her chest. It was cold and still, never to beat with life again.
The chill of the every present cold of death followed her. She was never to be warm again. Her only comfort was that of Gynvael. The once proud horse was now a shadow of himself. He no longer held his head high. The reins within her hand were now slacked as Gynvael’s head hanged low. His once rare blue eyes were nothing more then gray and dull.
The path was ever long. The sorceress did not know how long they have been wandering down this trail. The only source of light was that of lanterns that shined an unnatural blood red. Eerie and sinister. The moon and stars were the light in the darkness of night and crimson.
What kept her in this world? What was her pin? Was it unfinished business? Was this her fate? To wander for all time until time itself ceased to exist? She could think of no answer. She sought to find an answer to this question. But perhaps it was better not knowing.
Gynvael, her ever loyal horse, stopped suddenly. She did not notice until she felt like she was tugging on the reins. The sorceress turn to her steed. His head was no longer hanged low and his ears were pinned back. He was looking ahead intently. The sorceress turned back and saw a man not to close nor to far from them.
He stood there, his face illuminated by the red glow. A shadow of a smile seem to form on his face. He blocked the path forward and stood there like he was waiting for something or... someone.