Have to go. Have to run. Have to move. She walked at a brisk pace. Frost bloomed at her footsteps and the air around her churned and stirred with a rustling breeze. Her usually pale face had adopted an unhealthy pallor complexion.

Anxiety after anxiety pounded her thoughts. A group of whispers had started to manifest in her thoughts, all conflicting, all unique, all growing. A sublte conversation had started between the group of whispers, clouding her thoughts. She couldn't focus. She couldn't think. She just had to find him.

Byson was her first destination, but her mind was jumbled and her sense of direction even more so. She lead the trio, her footsteps swift and panicked. She would waste no time on finding what she wanted.

However, near an oh so familiar pond where an oh so familiar wedding took place, something caught her attention. A collection of objects littered the ground, centering a pile of mush.

Ashen hues came to focus on it. Drawing near, Blythe's heart skipped a beat. The pile of mush, which looked to be ground up guts and blood, was surrounded by objects that were far too familair. Reddish strands of hair scattered the area, some blown far by the idle wind that stirred.

The necklace.

Fumbling to peer beneath the collar of his shirt, she quirked a brow. Was that a necklace he was wearing? An icy hand moved to grip it as she flashed a sneaky smile at him. "What's this? A necklace?"

The cape.

"Anariel just made you a knight? Just like that? I had to serve three years!" Blythe's brows raised in amusement. That little girl sure did love Helgaad!

The staff.

Vibrant colors adorned a staff that Blythe had never seen on her fiance's back before. Tilting her head, she approached with a tiny kiss on the cheek. "What's that? Blow your paycheck on a new staff?"

Their ring.

After hours upon hours of tedious work and help from her aunt, Blythe had crafted to rings of ice for the both of them. Sneaking up behind Helgaad, she moved her hands to grip his own, sliding the ring onto his finger. "I love you," she murmured, breathing in his scent.

Everything collapsed. The pile of mush was him. Their memories. Her life. Her sanity. Her mind came crashing down with her knees, turning to jelly as she fell onto the ground with a choked sob.

Every memory. Every kiss. Every hug. Every conversation. Every sweet nothing. Every day they shared together, crashing down, gone, erased, all into a pile of mush.

There she sat, pulling her face into her knees as she tried to collect herself, tried not to sob, tried not to crash, tried not to wish to end everything then and there. But try she must, Blythe never succeeded.
(Blythe Materis)