Arya stood on a
cliff, the egg in her pack on her back wrapped in a soft leather
pouch itself. Faolin came up to her, his hand pressed against the
back of her neck. A warm feeling eveloped Arya as she turned to face
him.
"Faolin?"
She murmured, reaching up with a hand to trace his soft, boyish face.
His silver gold hair was tied in a braid behind his neck.
"Tis
I, sweet Arya." Faolin murmured, his lips barely moving. He
pulled back and handed her a Black Morning Glory. A tear ran down
Arya's face. This was too good to be true.
"I
love you, Faolin..." Arya let out a small gasp, as he backed
away and became the shade Durza. An evil glint lit up what had been
previously Faolin's face. Arya stepped back, her foot slipping on the
edge of the cliff. The shade came at her and pushed her down,
down...down.
A
scream of her lover's name escaped Arya's lips before she woke.
