"Sorren Hammerson, seventeen, arrow shot. Tellan slopes, below the Haunt.
Son of William and Sereh, raised in Northdean, Renar.
The arrow pinned him to the moment, and Sorren fell, knowing that for all his life he and the arrow had been racing toward each other.
He fell. His head bounced once and his helm clattered away. A last breath left in a crimson spray of surprise. Sound faded, bowstrings thrummed into silence, the sky bright and wide, filled everything. He had wanted to be a farmer. He had wanted Milly Turner. The sky narrowed to the gleam of her hair. Narrowed again. Gone."