As Lissa fought desperately, trying to do her part to defend the ritual circle, the mist walkers closed in, their blows relentless. She could hear her friends and allies fighting, screaming, shouting orders - but all she could see were the white figures surrounding her, cutting her down. All went black for a while.
Later there was a slight awareness, the pain of her many injuries overlaid by new sharper pains as someone tried to repair the damage, a sense of Etsuko's presence exhorting her to try, to survive. Finally though the effort was too great, it was one fight too many, too hard to pull back yet again from the brink of death. This time she let the blackness welcome her, knowing it was her time to join old friends in Greenman's hunting grounds.
She expected to awake sound of body in the lush and verdant hunting grounds she had always been told of and had once (perhaps, or perhaps it had only been an illusion) even visited briefly. Instead she woke barely recovered from the battle, the injuries Etsuko had fought so hard to repair still near crippling. Slowly, painfully, she hauled herself to a sitting position and gazed around at a scene of devastation. The land was sterile, blackened and noxious. What scant vegetation she saw was festering and diseased. Nothing was stirring, there were no sounds of birds or animals.
She slumped back, as the reality hit her. Greenman was dead and, without him, his hunting grounds were decaying. Unless those she had left behind managed to reawaken the spark of her god that Scale carried, she was destined to spend her afterlife crippled and alone in this rotting, decaying corpse of a landscape.
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