Chapter 33 - Broken, part 3

Under a sky the color of wet slate, Viktor paused under the shade of a tree and looked across the fallow fields, toward his hometown. After a frustrating five days of travel due to low carriage traffic, he had returned home once more.

Wayward thunderstorms chased swift tides of clouds across the sky, like wolves hunting sheep.

Chipped still looked the same as ever. The forests that gave the austere town its name were dotted with gold and reddish bronze, and the blackened branches stood out against the sky.

Frayed-winged birds circled over the cliff to which they had given their name, their squawks barely audible in the breeze.

As he moved out of the way again to cross the bare fields, Viktor heard a painful sound that chilled the blood in his veins.

The lonely tolling of the chapel bell reached him across the desolate landscape. It could only mean one thing, because the bell rang when: someone had died and passed from the mortal world to the twilig