Witch's Marsh Death doesn't let you say goodbye

A rush of snow fell to the ground, the branches of a large evergreen suddenly unable to handle the weight. Slightly startled by the noise, Siarut paused and turned toward the sound. Watching the snow settle after the disruption, falling into a new norm. Through the blur of the power he caught sight of a phantom, a mirage of one of his failures. His jaw fell open and he shook his head as his breath caught in his throat. His trachea shrinking with the panic rising in his chest.

Stumbling slightly toward the figment of his imagination, Siarut couldn’t bear to pull himself away. She looked so real, that it broke his heart. The agony he had felt in tunnel rushed back, and suddenly the rock that had settled in his chest released. Air rushed into his chest, his chest heaving as hyperventilation took over.