"Hey. I'm Crimson. My master is sleeping right now, and I'm just here killing rats that try to bite the coffin. I only hope nothing worse shows up, because without my master's help, I can't really do much else."
The night was quiet but full of tension. An owl hooted in the distance, its cry echoing through the ruined house. Cold wind moved through the broken windows, carrying dust that danced slowly in the moonlight. The coffin was surrounded by it, almost hidden under a thin veil of grey.
"It feels strange... not being able to talk to him," Crimson continued, his voice soft and thoughtful. "But it's okay. He understands me. That's enough."
The sword's green glow dimmed slightly as it looked up at the stars above.
"But wait... who are you? Why are you looking at those runes like that?" Crimson asked, watching something or someone in the dark sky.