Reverie

Before disaster buried everything, Phrolova's world was small: only a violin, and the ordinary, warm laughter of a small town.

The Lament laid waste to her hometown, and tore every movement to pieces.

She should have died in the ruins with the rest, but the Reverberations of the whole town's dead pierced the shadow of death and dragged her, by sheer force, back out of the abyss.

She awoke, but heaven and earth had fallen into a deathly silence.

“They left survival to me, but carried the whole world into the grave.”

The years that followed were long. What her fingertips plucked was no longer a song of the dawn, but the cold threads of the dead. She walked out of the grave, yet willingly sealed herself forever inside that old dream from which she could never wake.