Natasha sat in front of the altar. Her eyes were closed in deep meditation. The room was filled with the scent of incense that rose in gentle wisps around her.
A loud crash on the window, caused by a stone thrown at it, made her open her eyes abruptly to stare at the cracks on the glass. It was common knowledge amongst people of the faith that the shattering of a glass during a prayer was a bad omen.
Her face creased with concern and turned her head quickly when someone else came into the room. It was a young girl that entered and her face and eyes were swollen like that of someone who'd just gone through a wailing session.
“What happened?" she asked, immediately dropping the prayer cloth in her hand to meet the girl at the entrance.
"Elara—," the girl sobbed.
Natasha's heart skippe
