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

Already the moistness of his skin was growing clammy beneath her palm. His
skin was growing pale, his lips blue-gray. The heat of his flesh was seeping
away.
"No... no no no no..." she murmured, eyes wide, too panicked to move.
"What has Ravel done? Can she fix this? Can I fix this?!"
And then she felt it. A pulse, faint as the squeak of a baby mouse, but the
next was stronger, and the next stronger still.
Ravel had known that mortals could weep with joy, but it was only now that
she knew what it meant. Blood-red and black-brambled eyes damp, heart
warming, she laughed with delight. Giddy as a maiden, Ravel fell to her
knees. The trembling of fear that all had gone wrong was trickling away, and
for once her laughter was sweet, her fingers tender on another's flesh as she
cradled his head gently.
"Oh beautiful man..." she had blubbered through the warm tears, "Oh
sweet, beautiful man... you have come back to me." In her heart she
promised that he would never feel pain again, that all he wished she would
pluck from the threads of reality, if only he would walk with her through the
garden, hand-in hand.
But the first three words from his lips made her blood run cold.
"Who am I?"
She lies curled on the floor, trembling with sorrow. When the sobs taper off
into the soft, quiet weeping that comes when there are no more tears, she
shrieks again, forcing them out... the earth is stained black with her agony. It
will be days until there is nothing left, when all that remains is a hollow core
that, for a moment, dreamed of love.
In the ages to come the Planes will tremble at her name. Men will break in
her talons, their souls will be snagged by her barbs. Sigil will bend with her
power and the Lady will be summoned in the chaos. Ravel was strong in
many things, but if she had one weakness, it was that she never had the
strength to end it herself.
Of all puzzles, she would never know why until he returned.
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