I was suddenly aware that I was cold, and that I was alone. I tugged at the rough blankets I lay on, pulling them up to cover my bare skin and curled up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest and shivering. For a moment, I could hear nothing except my own breathing, and I struggled to recall where I was. But slowly my ears began to pick up sounds from the outside world, and memories surged back. Memories of anger, of despair, of warm flesh against warm flesh...

I raised my head, clenching my teeth to stop them chattering, and gazed around the small room. Just as the warmth she had provided was gone as though it had never been, so was the necromancer herself.

All I could think of was that I didn't want to be alone, didn't want to be lost in the silence, I needed something tangible to focus on. I opened my mouth, my throat suddenly dry and my voice cracking. "H-Haerta?"

"Shhh." The ghostly touch of a hand brushed across my face, cool and soft and warm and real and I sunk back down onto the bed.

"Don't leave."

I tried to raise my head again, but my whole body felt impossibly heavy, even my eyelids drifted shut against my will.

On the edge on consciousness I heard a whisper.

"I never did."