I had an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I watched as Morrigan prepared her room for the ritual. She took out a strange but beautiful jar and began to pour out a shimmering black powder. Once she was done, she began to light numerous candles. One by one, as if each candle was a whispered prayer. The room was soon bathed in a warm golden hue, the flickering candle light cast long shadows in the corners of the room.
The coffins had long been forgotten. The logs of wood were discarded outside. It was hard to believe that just a while ago we believed those were actually our kids.
Cruel black magic. The amount it must have taken to spun such a perfect look alike. To make wood feel like a body, a cold and lifeless body.
Morrigan had drawn a shape. She took a crystal necklace and put it aro
