"When did you learn this one?" Thomas asked as he appeared in his spectral form, his faint light flickering against the splintered bark and shadowed grotto wall.
"Got it as a reward," Ludwig replied, his voice dry, the edge of mental exhaustion curling behind the humor in his words. His eyes, however, didn't share in the joke. They remained fixed, cold and calculating, on the Queen. His undead breath steamed faintly in the humid air, and as he spoke, the tip of his sword lowered until it pointed directly at her warped form, where she still writhed with a body half ruptured, half mending.
