Death rode into Fallarbor on a mare paler than ash. It struck in the dead of night, a silent predator who found its prey in a young man with a head full of dreams. Fantasies that couldn't save him when the deathbird's bell tolled.

Ian stared at the ash-covered body. It lay messily in a crater on the outskirts of town.

He was supposed to feel something, wasn't he? Shock over finding the body, disgust for the brutality of the kill. None of that came despite how hard he searched for it. The lack of emotion should frighten him, but something else ate away at his apathy.

Officiousness.

Who killed this man? Why? Was it a kill of passion or planned? Were the killer and the man strangers or friends? The violent nature of the kill suggested the latter. Round and round turned the gears in his head. Until Ian couldn't stand it anymore, he hopped into the pit.

"Let's see what answers your body gives." Ian muttered as he began to search the corpse.

---

@open