The only mistake to be made was before death, thinking to myself as life was leaving these old lungs. While another was begging for one last word, some way to keep them going.
I would do anything to speak to them even if only one last time, I would haunt anyone and everyone if it meant I could get even one letter across.
Even if my only form of engrossment was through scarlet rivers, sacrificing the brightest of souls, or overcoming the darkest and most treacherous of hollows. To reach her. Absolutely anything.