(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Chapter 70
The warmth of Annah's body was pooling around my boots.
I'd seen and felt many ways to die: being impaled on blades, acid billowing
into your lungs and gnawing your face to the bone. There were bodies
peppered with magic missiles, flesh blasted to the bone with arcane fury.
I couldn't look this time. You'd think I'd never seen a girl gutted before.
"Please no, please no, please no..."
The ground was sticky beneath my heels.
Deionarra had died because she had followed me. Aelwyn was forced to
drive me to my death, heartbroken and with regret etched into her soul.
Now Annah.
Love isn't for creatures like me... it's the domain of mortals, where passions
have the luxury of flaring and cooling with age, where old sorrows can be
smoothed over and buried. For immortals, old regrets live on with perpetual
breath, just past the corner of my vision and squirreled away in the
shadows. They accrue like a bad debt, unacknowledged and unpaid.
Eventually, those old ghosts are going to catch up.
~~~~~
"You... I... cannot..." Deionarra suddenly froze, and she spoke slowly,
carefully, as if her own voice frightened her. "The truth is this: you are one
who dies many deaths. These deaths have given the knowing of all things
mortal, and in your hand lies the spark of life... and death. Those that die
near you carry a trace of themselves that you can bring forth..."
As Deionarra spoke the words, a crawling sensation welled up in the back of
my skull... I suddenly felt compelled to look at my hand. As I lifted it up and
looked at it, I could SEE the blood coursing sluggishly through my arm,
pouring into my muscles, and in turn, giving strength to my bones...
~~~~~
697