III. Shroud and Shadow
Sirius Black stood, watching the gray waters of the river Styx. The silence of the flat gray landscape was only emphasized by the constant, misting rain. Even the river swirled on silently. Many other people passed by him, but they ignored him, and he could not follow them. As nothing else presented itself, he went over the final events of his life, losing track of plenty of the details.
He had joined a group of wizards and witches who were trying, rather desperately, to prevent the theft of some bit of information. There had been a battle, and he had fallen through a strange black shroud. Then suddenly, he had been in a crowd of strangers, or rather, what was left of them.
Those people. They were eerie, surreal. Each individually tried to contact him, to make themselves and their stories know to him. But their hands passed through him without sensation, and, like the river, they were completely mute.
Sirius Black stood, watching the gray waters of the river Styx. The silence of the flat gray landscape was only emphasized by the constant, misting rain. Even the river swirled on silently. Many other people passed by him, but they ignored him, and he could not follow them. As nothing else presented itself, he went over the final events of his life, losing track of plenty of the details.
He had joined a group of wizards and witches who were trying, rather desperately, to prevent the theft of some bit of information. There had been a battle, and he had fallen through a strange black shroud. Then suddenly, he had been in a crowd of strangers, or rather, what was left of them.
Those people. They were eerie, surreal. Each individually tried to contact him, to make themselves and their stories know to him. But their hands passed through him without sensation, and, like the river, they were completely mute.