Their beautiful faces are masks of anger as Cydia points at me and declares, "Death."

"Death," comes the echo.

"Death," my beloved says.

The skies darken at once, the rage of the elements called down on me for the most hideous of crimes, the very one I did not commit.

"My love," I whisper as thunder rumbles, chasing giant forks of lightning across the sky.

"Befouled one," he snarls, no joy or happiness in his face, his love for me gone. "Death is ...