Adunzil stood in the shadow of a cherry tree, his gaze lingering for a long time now on the cold stone of a burial cairn before him. What few leaves remained gently rustled on the light western wind. Another one fell slowly, upon the greatest stone.
Stone itself is of no importance, but that which stood inscribed on it was still sending daggers through his heart. One crudely inscribed word, but it is more than enough.
Galathir
