Note: For those who have already read what's posted, I have reuploaded the past four chapters to the newer versions.
Don't Think
When thoughts of Cerlia and the other patients, the other bishops who stayed behind, manage to consume her, she pours whatever energy she has into burying any other dead she finds. Mostly dogs, some cats, a couple of rotting mounts. Blisters burst and cuts tear back open, fingernails chipping and tearing every time she pushes a shovel into the ground. It doesn't stop the nightmares from plaguing her.
Or keep her from listening to the beasts Edelgard used in her siege as they linger at the edges of the town.
Never passing the tree line, just there, lurking.
Everyone is gone.
And she is caged in on all sides.
Her thoughts spiral and she holds a blade to her wrists. Never cuts. Holds her hands to her throat and presses. Gasps through the tears as she stops.
Blankly stares past the walls; where the monsters and the soldiers could be waiting and digs her cracked, damaged nails so deep the pain makes her feel numb.
Her magical reserves are still just dregs, certainly nothing she can use against monsters but—
Her time at the Monastery taught her much and her biggest obstacles now are time and strategy now that she has no one.
End.
I know the chapters are short but I hope yall enjoy anyway. : ) As always, let me know your thoughts.