Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Shelookedupathim,holdinganeggcarefullyinonehand,brushingalockofgoldenhairfromherfacewiththeother.

           "Ican’t.SummerisaveryintensivetimeforthestudentsatDalaran.Antonidashasalreadytoldmetoexpecttostaytherethewholetime."Regretwasinhervoice.

           "ThenI’llcomevisityouforMidsummer,andyoucancomeforHallow’sEnd,"Arthassaid.Sheshookherheadandlaughedathim.

           "Youarepersistent,ArthasMenethil.Iwilltry."

           "No,you’llcome."Hereachedacrossthetable,litteredwithcarefullyhollowedout,brightlypaintedeggsandsmallcandies,andplacedhishandoverhers.

           Shesmiled,stillalittleshyafterallthistime,hercheeksturningpink.

           Shewouldcome.

           TherewereseveralsmallerfestivalsleadinguptoHallow’sEnd.Onewassomber,onewascelebratory,andthisonewasabitofboth.Itwasbelievedtobeatimewhenthebarrierbetweenthelivingandthedeadwasthin,andthosewhohadpassedoncouldbesensedbythosestillalive.Traditionhaditthatattheendoftheharvestseason,beforethewindsofwinterbegantoblow,thatastraweffigywouldbeerectedrightoutsidethepalace.Atsunsetonthenightoftheceremony,itwouldbelitonfire.Itwasanawesomesight—agiantflamingwickerman,burningbrightagainsttheencroachingnight.