Sun Mote Copse red breath

Gently, gently, the babes drowned. It was not so awful, to drown? Though the children struggled, Ragna could not see it. She merely saw them enter the stream as living, squalling things and leave it with the stillness of death. Their bodies sat, unmoving, upon the riverbank. It was baptism, reversed. The process seemed to drag on forever until it was done, and then it seemed to have been irreverently short.

Ragna felt numb, as though her mind and body had filled with so many emotions that they grew overcrowded and fled as one. It was this very numbness that gave her the confidence to step forth. I will, she said, the strength in her voice betraying the weakness of her heart. Perhaps it would help, though, to see the bodies laid to rest. She waited for further instruction, her heart beating a heavy tattoo.