Her name is Athelia, but she knows no more than that. She lies on the dirt, muddied by the rain, her hair sticking to her face and neck. There’s clouds up above, dark, heavy with perspiration, and she curls up into herself, much like a child in a fetal position. Voices can be heard from a short distance and she perks up a little, but is still much too weak to move much. She hears her name being called, and tries to move, only to find herself in a puddle of blood that is seeping into the ground around her. Slowly, she gives up and collapses into herself, watching the life fade away between thick eyelashes and raindrops. There are arrows being fired and a battle going on not far away, she knows this, but this battle is her last, and with one more deep breath, she drifts off into the dark.