""Amara? Where is she?
"" Mark has the answer," Ambriel finished and disappeared.
""Mark?
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Whenever someone wears black, the instinct is to ask what happened, did someone die? It became the color of mourning. Some mourn in white. Others scatter ashes over their heads. Some get drunk. And others drive themselves insane with solitude.
Arya grieved deep in her soul. She wanted to know more. hearing the old, ancient tales, but there was no way. She roamed the dust and puddles of the Hill country wearing her black and left behind only silence. Her lips remained unparted. Her eyes scarcely blinked. It took one thought to silence the screams and the chatter of teeth.
Forever.
Her power was immense. Stronger than the one Amara had. In the Mountain region, each stone had a story. The rich d
