"Errr, mother, do you think...this individual is...I mean might be...one of you?'
"They are all dead, Vlad. Saving for the handful of us in the Sanctuary and Lord Milos." The Nightborn gave voice through coldness and darkness. "They. Are. All. Dead."
Inspired by one of my dreams, a short installment of the Ichor of Darkness world-building.
Milla and Michael's wedding is next month, everything has been checked except one thing, her great great grandmother's statue. Milla's family has been searching for...