Hunters come back to haunt who doesn't exist, his ghost is still penetrating through her shallow mind, for a thousand years of playing knives, she left there, undesired.
She thought "that would be enough" it would be his revenge or punishment, her vial was empty but he was a bloodlust, words could cut and anguish could be unbearable, but tears will run dry.
The days turn into dust; those memories she recollect if he is seem to love again maybe, she will find her faith and her place.
She lost in darkness with broken dreams she knew, it will only leads her to death; Why do people keep coming back on those things they left behind?