Over and over, Kael's fists slammed ineffectually against the sandy ground. Martin still tried to calm him down. His words never reached Kael's ears. Leading to more self-loathing, as he blamed himself for not listening to his friend, ignoring him, forming a vicious cycle as his emotions and thoughts kept him from understanding. Memories of his failures kept resurfacing in his mind, trapping him in an endless onslaught. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that this was not helping anyone. But what was he supposed to do? Wasn't this the reality he lived in? "Fuck! Kael! What are you doing?! Stop!" The loud and raw scream finally got through, and Kael looked around, finding Martin kneeling before him. Tears were streaming down his friend's face. Why? What was wrong? Instinctually he reached for his friend, to help somehow, to offer him reassurance, to do something. Why did Martin look so sad? Or was it anger? Why would Martin be angry?

A touch to his hands brought his focus back from his thoughts. Martin was clasping his hand, enveloping it with his green energy. But why? Not willing to deprive his friend of whatever he might want to accomplish by using his magic, he inspected his other hand. Lifting it up, he saw nothing of note. He then turned it over, some instinct guiding his actions, and saw the angry red color of blood. A mix of sand and blood was coating the underside of his fist. Then the pain hit him as if it took him seeing the injury for his brain to process the signals it should be receiving. It hurt. It most certainly hurt, but the pain helped him find something to ground himself in, a beacon to guide his addled psyche back to reality and keep it there. "...are you doing this? Why?! We made it out of that horror. Even Grace might survive... Why?!" Kael listened to Martin quietly talk, unsure if he was talking to himself or asking Kael questions. Time passed slowly, Kael, tears still dripping from his eyes occasionally, observing Martin as he rambled on and on while healing Kael's injured hands. One question standing front and center in his mind: Why did he bring only pain to those he held dear?

They did not speak for the entire duration of the healing. Martin was probably occupied by his work Kael suspected, while he could not find the words to express what he was feeling and thinking. Are you ok? He wanted to ask. Thank you for always looking out for me! He wanted to say. He did neither. Instead, he just watched as Martin finished his spell, looking at the tear-stained face of his best friend. Only his resolve was keeping him silent. That is how they stayed for a while, looking at each other. Kael could see the expectation in Martin's behavior, knew that his friend was waiting for him to speak, to reach out. After what felt like an eternity to Kael, Martin finally let out a pained sigh and stood up. Eyes never leaving the features of one of the two people he could call true friends, Kael remained motionless, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Finally, it did. Martin shook his head and turned around, walking away. Moments later, the sound of a door opening and closing reached Kael's ears. "I am so very sorry, my friend." He whispered as he waited.

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Kael returned to his room after taking a quick shower. Any hesitation that he might have felt when the day began was gone. Carefully slow, but with purpose, did he change out of his nice clothes into those he had worn when he got here. He folded the still almost pristine set of clothes and stacked it on his other clothes in the closet. Afterward, he turned off his cellphone, leaving it on his nightstand. His old backpack was pulled out of the corner he had left it in and filled with whatever little nicknacks he still had from his childhood. From his dresser, he got the collage block he had used to note down recipes and advice from Edward, slowly turning the pages until he reached a blank one. Sitting down, he picked one of the pens and sat it down on the page. It took him a long time to find the right words. When he was finished, a short paragraph, written with care, was all that filled the page. The block vanished back into the dresser while the page was arranged neatly in the center of the table. He read over it one more time, just to make sure.

"Dear Barbara, Martin, Andrea, Sean, Edward, Marcia, or whoever reads this letter. I am deeply sorry for all the trouble I have caused all of you. Since I was little, my actions have brought pain and suffering to all I hold dear. There is naught but respect and gratefulness in my heart for all you have done to help and guide me, and I have returned only trouble for your investment. I know that you all are wonderful and generous human beings that would never push me away because of this, but my heart can not bear to inflict more suffering on those I care for. As such, I think it only proper that I, for once, make the correct decision: Leave of my own accord. I am sorry. Thank you for everything.

Yours, the ever grateful useless Kael Barkley."

Kael nodded and took a step back, returning quickly to recenter his note, before turning away again. After a last look around the room, he grabbed his backpack. Once it was on his back, he left his, no, the room. Quick and sure steps brought him down to the ground floor and out of the back door. The sun was just beginning to turn orange, coloring the city in its soft glow. Kael looked back at the building once more, burning all of the fond memories he had made here into his mind. He then bowed at the waist, feeling the need to once again express his gratitude, even if its recipient would not know of it. A step back, a turn, and one foot in front of the other. Slowly he left his home behind.