Rain fell from the gaping sky, drumming off exposed rock and disappearing into the earth. A hulking beast crouched vigil over a man lying facedown on the ground, spreading his wings in vain to shield his master's body from the downpour. It mattered little; the man's robes were already soaked through.

Every few seconds, Galio would let out a low whine. His master used to complain, For gods' sake, Galio, please do not make that noise while I'm working. It sounds like rocks grating against each other! Now, it was all the gargoyle could think of to wake the man. The wizard didn't move.

There was a thought that was forming in his head, insistent and corrosive. He could feel its approach, and desperately threw up a barricade in his mind. No. Please, no. The thought pounded and clawed and demanded to be let in. The rain continued to fall. The man at his feet was growing cold, and Galio knew of no god to pray to.

It felt like an eternity had passed - when in reality, it had only been minutes - before Galio allowed the words to seep through.

He is dead. My master is dead.

The admission tumbled down his throat and settled in his stomach, hollow, cold, and heavy as a stone. He could not even cry. Sentient though he was, his master had not thought to make him capable of weeping.

And now, he never would.

Suddenly, the world flashed white and Galio heard a booming crack. For a moment, he was sure it was his own heart breaking in two, splintering down the middle. But no, it was only the lightning and thunder overhead. The pounding in his chest was still there. So too was the pain. Both were proof that he was still alive in a world without the man he pledged his life to.

And the rain pelted down from the heavens harder than ever, running down his face in the place of unshed tears to whisper a ballad of sorrow.