An overcast sky hung over the city of Ofalla, releasing a fierce wind that drifted over the slanted roofs of tall, gray townhouses, past the wide bridges that spanned the Vinrella River and similar houses on the other side. It swept northward across fields of lush, green grass, still wet from recent rainfall. And up a hill with a single tree at the crest, its leaves only starting to bloom as the days grew warmer.
Beneath the swaying branches of that tree, a single gravestone jutted out of the ground. The flowing script on its face read, “Adele Delarac: 506 – 533” Desa wasn’t sure what else to add; so, that would have to be enough.
She stood on the southern slope of that hill in black trousers, a gray blouse and a long, black coat, the wind whipping her hair into a frenzy. She closed her
