Destroyed

Jerking his gaze away, Sydney gazed at the heather field with intense bewilderment, as if his thoughts were struggling to curl up against the emotional triggers.

"Let's make a wish". Torcia urged. "I'll throw a tongs down the well for you next time I come."

Sir Sydney shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was strangely hoarse. "I don't know what to wish for".

They remained silent, heading out of the mud and following the trail to a pedestrian bridge over a small stream. Across the stream, the wet grass was inviting, resplendent with patches of cute, waist-high yellow shrubs.

“This way,” said Torcia, lifting her skirt above her knees as they stepped over the grass and heather, and approached the boundary of the fence. "Over the fence, is the path leading through the forest to the Highland." She pointed to the tall archway, too narrow to hold even one person through it at a time. Glancing at Sir Sydney, she comforted her when she noticed that he had regained his composure. "The only