[Rinni]

The haunting melody wafted through the air, the song the only thing left with him here except -them-. Butterflies. The spirits of the fallen. All that was left in this desolate wasteland of a world. The fires of war had razed both city and countryside alike, leaving nothing but the black, ash-like sand in its wake. He was the only one left, the only one who could salvage from the ruins of his world.

His eyes closed as his song grew louder and louder, filling the void of silence that encompassed him. The butterflies, red and ethereal, gathered, drawn by it's call. The black sea of sand was soon flooded with fluttering red, the song growing even louder still, the words of old weaving their power. He was nervous, but... this was the only way.

The last syllable fell from his lips, signalling the end. One, by one, by each single one, the butterflies flickered and faded, disappearing. A sad smile crossed his lips as the last one disappeared, eyes drifting shut as he felt himself begin to do the same. He felt warm and at ease....and then he was gone.