Jarewyn

She’s gone. I still can’t believe it. Her father, my boss, was only able to retrieve a part of her – her left forearm. It was sitting on a stand in her bedroom, where it had been placed after the days it had spent in the hall below so it could be viewed by mourners. The arm was pristine, a clean cut, and still looked very much alive thanks to the wonders of high technology, or "magic" as most the people who didn’t understand called it. The precious few pieces of jewelry that she had allowed herself to wear included a couple of gold bracelets, which were still wrapped around her wrist when the arm had been recovered.