Of Frost and Fire
Explicitly, I was the one in pain: I couldn't move, nor open my eyes and I felt as though my being was starting to decay from the death touch of the rotten body that was crippling me in one place above the ground.
"Say your prayers, little one," said the voice again, derisively. "Submit for your own welfare, for those whom you love and care about; for their health, and happiness. I say submit, weak soul, and though dead and gone a long time ago their mistakes shall be forgiven, and they shall be redeemed, and spells of the past shall be broken."
Whose mistakes shall be forgiven?
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