[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

She was going to die.

She was going to die for real.

A surreal thing, she had helped set up her own execution and now, watching helplessly as Shiandi tucked the knife in the brazier, Amelia's body felt rigid and unresponsive. It was over. Really, what had been the meaning of this? Why had she bothered to grit her teeth through the horror that had been her life, only for everything to end like this? The final question now was, would Shiandi plunge her into Aeternia forever or summon her soul from the Umblat to act as her servant? Same thing, really.

Gods, but she didn't want to die. She really didn't want to die. She wanted to live and get life to hand over all the happiness it owed her. So, naturally, her blue eyes, wide open with pupils shrunk to pinholes despite the lack of lighting, immediately turned to the door, only later realizing that such an escape was impossible. Shiandi blocked the way, fully rested and probably ready to unleash a host of spirits and ghosts on her if she tried anything funny. The knife, too, was an avenue, much to the girl's surprise for even considering it. She'd lost her fear of blades thanks to Nei, and in a matter of life and death there was no telling what Amelia could do with a knife in her hand. But no, Shiandi had positioned herself far closer to the weapon.

No options were left, her body refused to even cry. It was over, and the maiden's eyes went back to the Adjurator, looking at her soon-to-be killer. At this point, the only thing she'd left to choose was whether her death would be a proper one, leaving this world with dignity, or a pathetic one. Amelia thought it over for a few seconds, and made her choice. 'Father, since I won't be able to fulfil my other promises to you, I will at least make you proud of me now.' Biting her lip, she raised one shaky hand and undid the first button of her jacket.

Without a further word, the other buttons quickly followed suit, and she even gained speed as she went. It is fair to say that her life flashed before her as she threw the jacket on the floor, though not where the bones were - even if she didn't need them anymore, they were still her clothes. Soon more of them joined the jacket, including two blouses, trousers and undergarments. The strip of cloth from her father's grave came last and rested on top of the pile as Amelia adjusted the hair falling on her naked shoulders. Here, in the half-darkness and cold that filled her being with shivers, as she stood with a pride of sorts, she perhaps thought of herself as beautiful for the very first time - the shell she'd have to leave soon.

No, she wouldn't beg. She wouldn't make a scene of it. She'd have to scream, most likely, but she wouldn't break. This was what the maiden really was, what she should have been from the start. Too bad she'd only realized it in the end, when it was too late. Even so, having gone this far was a reason for pride, however small. Maybe there had been some small meaning to this, after all. "Do what you must, Lady Shiandi, but please finish this quickly," Amelia said, taking three silent steps towards the altar. She sat on the cold stone and then lay down on it, arms parallel to the body. Two tears ran down her temples instead of her cheeks and she suppressed a sob. Shiandi would have nothing more from the Half-elf.

'Sorry.'