The walk was rather short, but Emma still took her time. Her pace was slow and heavy, pushed down by the weight of all the memories she had jumbling inside her mind. She hated walking this way, it reminded her of everything she’d lost last year. She kept seeing their faces as she brushed her fingers along the smooth walls, her footsteps echoing across the paved floor. Each sound holstered another she'd rather forget, creeping over her shoulder to whisper in her ear. Taunting her. Reminding her. She finally reached the large iron doors of the Spell-Caster’s quarters, once belonging to a kind elderly Mage who treated her as more than just a kid. A man she was proud to call a friend, a father figure, a mentor. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, only for the image of him being ripped away to flash before her eyes and vanishing into the darkness of a nightmare silently. She shook the thought away as she hesitantly knocked on the door, the metal so thick and solid even she barely heard her own greeting.
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