Flowers for the dead maiden

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As Akhaz'iir snuck into the room he noticed flowers strewn on the floor. Their petals were wilted as if life had been drained out of them by the pervading stench of death in the room. A ghostly maiden lay on the bed, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Akhaz'iir knew that it was not true peace, a spirit raised from the dead and enslaved by a madman could hardly find peace in death. He raised his akaviri blade and brought it down swiftly, freed from the shackles that bound her, her ghostly form dispersed. Feelings of gratefulness momentarily flashed in Akhaz'iirs mind, a ephemeral thank you from an unfortunate maiden.