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Blackberry looks up at the ceiling – to keep her eye moisture in place and prevent it from leaving its intended location.
Then, she takes off the amulet from her neck.
“What nonsense. It doesn’t even work. And blue doesn’t suit me,” she says, twirling the chain on her finger, and throws the great Izakan artifact far away and deep – right into the magma that surrounds the city with its streams. It melts into a homogeneous mass.
“A piece of paper filled with hypocrisy and boredom,” she says to the scroll of resurrection, before tearing it into small pieces and blowing them off her palm like dandelion seeds.
She stands still for a while, trying to understand her emotions, and then leaves the city. None of those who knew her, or who could have gotten to know her in the future, ever saw her again.