P R O L O G U E
The Future: Year 854

It was pouring. Rain continued to fall on the gravestones, splattering the gravel and the stone. The pounding was hurting his ears, but he didn't stop. Despite the coldness of his wet clothes, despite the way he was starting to shiver, he continued down the small narrow path.

Thunder boomed around him, lightning illuminated the small church and there she was. In the darkness, he almost imagined her leaning there, waiting for him to arrive. His eyes widened, as he raised his arm, trying to grasp her. Only, she was gone before he could do anything. She was gone.
He needed to remember that.

"Tch." If she saw him in this state, she would most likely double over laughing.

No, he was lying to himself. That was the last thing she would do. How could he have even thought that?

The gravel crunched beneath his footsteps as the rain continued to drench his clothes. His hair was already matted to his face and he felt more filthy than he had in a while. He hated it.

He was by the tombstone now, his eyes unfocused as he stared at it.

"You're supposed to be here right now," he said, "You're not supposed to be lying in mud, idiot."

There was no response.