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What the Briar Remembers
fantasy◐ Mature5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
Mirren did what the old warden had taught her. She sang the low burial-song her predecessor had scratched into the chapel wall — the one she'd practiced for nine winters and never used. The hill shuddered. The reaching hands slowed, then sank. All but one: a child's small hand, still grasping, that the song could not reach.
Mirren followed the child's hand and dug, gently, until she uncovered a small skull with a coin pressed in its teeth — an old toll for the dead, never paid. She took the coin and laid it in the little palm. "Go on, then," she whispered. The hand closed, warm for just a moment, and the last grave in the Briar finally rested.
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