She doesn't know why – or how she has run so fast – but she's there, in a few steps, and she slides easily between the boy who calls her Mom, and the Light One's sword.
And he slices her stomach apart.
An old drunk in a pub told her, when you die, girl, you see life passing before you.
It's a lie. She only sees grey pain, steel and cold and ice. Feels the sharp smack of the floor and autumn leaves crushed by her fallen body.
His scream, and his hand under her hair.
The boy's tears.
Then, it's black.