The air was cold that day and the raindrops stung like a thousand tiny needles on my skin. I had arrived by carriage, when night was lazily drifting into another gloomy day. I held the slip of paper tight between by thumb and forefinger, shielding it from the downpour. The port was empty, except for a cloaked woman standing still and silent, staring out into the river. The great chateau loomed eerily above me somehow taunting me, warning me to stay away yet beckoning me closer. I reread the words I now knew by heart.
I had to keep going.
Wowowowowowowoowowowowoww