A fertility spell?
Sofia's ears flushed a rosy pink at the thought.
Lyra frowned.
"What do you mean by a fertility spell?"
"Exactly as it sounds,"
The elf replied smoothly.
"And I have valid reasons for this."
Then she clapped her hands together with a radiant smile.
"Let's start from the top, shall we?"
...
Lugh found himself in darkness.
Except this time, he wasn't drifting aimlessly.
He was standing—his feet planted on a solid surface.
What that surface was, he couldn't tell. It neither echoed nor yielded. Cold, but not unfriendly.
All he knew was that he was searching.
For what? He didn't know.
Only that he needed to find it.
He sifted through the trash—a scattering of cracked stones, some black, some white.
Each time his fingers brushed one, a burning memory imprinted itself onto his mind.
He picked up a stone.
A house on fire. A woman screaming as she was held back.
"My son is in there! My son is—"
He dropped it.
Another stone.
