The gate released her into light.
Soft. Golden. Warm.
She stood on a path of white stone. Flowers lined the way. Blue. Purple. Pink. Their petals trembled in a breeze she could not feel. The air smelled of water and blooming things.
Waterfalls surrounded her. Three of them. Tall curtains of clear water falling from cliffs of grey rock into a wide, still pool. The sound was a constant hush. A blanket of quiet.
This was a resting zone. The Tower's mercy between battles.
Lilith stood at the edge of the pool. Her body was a ruin of dried blood and torn cloth. Her left arm hung. Her hair was matted. Her face was smeared with red and dust.
She looked at her reflection in the still water. A ghost looked back.
She began to undress.
Slowly. Her fingers found buckles. Straps. The ruined armor came away in pieces. Black cloth torn. Silver plates dented. She let them fall to the stone. They landed with soft clinks.
