THE PATH GREW ROCKY and my feet began to ache from walking on the hard, solid form of rounded, rain-worn surface. Half a mile ago, the plains grass condensed into scattered patches between oases of hard, grey stone. We were about a day from the RASA, and the sky was beginning to turn shades of amber.
I paused for a moment before taking another step. Corbal’s hearing was superior to my own, and despite being lost in thought often, it was unlike him to mishear me. I stole a glance back and he was cautiously eyeing our surroundings, unusually fearful.
“Corbal, what’s wrong? Are you cold?” I asked, making a gesture that I hoped he would see as gratitude. I began to take my shirt off to offer it before he answered, “No, it’s not that. It is cold, though. I’ve just heard stories of monstrous beasts lurking in the mountains and foothills. I’ve yet to come across any concrete evidence of them in my studies– though because my own research leans more toward divination than compiling a world bestiary– wouldn’t find anything, but on the other hand, the lack of confirmation doesn’t prove that they don’t exist…”
He continued rambling, trailing off into frightened pleas for safety. Thankfully, Nebrei spoke up to ask about food, and Corbal was torn from his worry to consider our meal.
As they spoke, I scouted ahead, careful to not slip on loose gravel and small plants. I peered over the top of a hill and could see for miles.
I called back to them, “What’s that up ahead? The land rises into a point, several points… what’s that white, misty glow?”
Nebrei trudged up to join me and put her hand on my shoulder, stopping me to say, “There’s no way you don’t know what snow is.”
“Snow?”
“Mountains, too. You’re not funny, Efrit.”
Corbal joined in to ease the conversation, “Nebrei, he might not actually know.”
“I’ve heard of mountains before.”
“How, then, do you not know what snow is? It’s cold, drifts down from the sky, you can make snowmearles from it…? Wow, you really have been living under a rock, haven’t you?”
Corbal added nonchalantly, “I’m sure that could be argued through some philosophies.”
I decided to use logic. If nothing else, it would impress Corbal. “Alright, so what is ‘snow’? I know it’s at the top of that hill in the distance. Apparently it’s cold. It’s got to be something like a cloud.”
“You can’t just logic what else snow can be. Snow is snow. That’s a fact.”
“Nebrei, the boy’s trying, cut him some slack already.”
The boy?
I was more curious than offended, though both prompted me to defend myself.
“Corbal, I’m not young.”
“Compared to me, you absolutely are. That brings up a thought– how old are you? No more than thirty years, but more than twenty. You’re awfully tall, even for a human. It’s throwing off my estimate.” I’m sure from Corbal’s perspective, all humans seemed tall.
“I thought he was forty.” Nebrei added.
Humans lived longer than mearles, so I assumed her estimate was proportionate. Corbal told me way back, and Wesley further taught me. I think he was a little jealous because he seemed to dwell on it regularly. Nebrei was still a teenager by mearle standards. Earlier she mentioned she walked from her home to the Academy after studying Lyvikian well enough to get by. She left her home after her father died, but she wouldn’t elaborate. Because of this, she was unaware of human lifespans in relation to her own.
“I’m twenty…four? Twenty-seven? I actually never stopped to think… Never mind, it really doesn’t matter so much after the change.”
“What’s ‘the change?’” Nebrei asked. Corbal harrumphed and pointed us forward down the path. I’m thankful he didn’t make me explain.
“Let’s talk about snow.”
* * *
We walked another hour or two until from above the trees, the sky turned shades of pinkish-violet and we decided to make camp.
Just after I shoved rocks and twigs aside for my bedroll, Nebrei whipped her head around, and with a look of surprise, began to point somewhere behind me. I turned and before I could react, a sweet-smelling powder was blown onto my face. I was blinded. I coughed, and upon inhalation between gasps, my body felt both lighter and heavier, and a numbing comfort pervaded my chest and spread to my limbs. My vision returned shortly after, blurry and with increasingly vivid colors.
After that, I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to think. The effort of doing so became unreachable to me. A figure clad in dark leather clothing materialized before me, and in lethargic motion, a gloved fist slowly approached my face.
The air around me was warm and inviting, much like the silky blankets at the RASA- very cozy and soft, and above all else, I wanted to sleep. Corbal and Nebrei were yelling about something, but I couldn’t comprehend why they were so animated. Were they not sleepy too? I was more relaxed than I’d ever been before in my life. The possibility of injury was rapidly becoming closer, but for whatever reason it was second to being comfortable.
The attacker’s balled fist struck my face, very slowly, and I began falling to the ground. The impact wasn’t painful, or if it was, it was dulled or misdirected like the rest of my senses. Blood trailed from my broken nose like a fountain in the air. Maybe I could curl up for a nap when I hit the ground. The rocky gravel trail looked cozy. Everything was happening so slowly. I saw sunlight glittering off of every blood droplet midair, a dazzling array of sparkles and rainbows. How beautiful!
As I watched the dancing lights, she leapt onto me, gently helping me to the ground. I lay on my back as she pounded her fist into my face, each hit pushing me closer to unconsciousness. Maybe a couple more and I could finally sleep right here. Her hands were proportionally strong with my weird state and it was easy for her to hold me to the ground. With one hand she gripped my throat, and the other kept bashing my swelling face. I think she also put a knee on my chest, or maybe she just took my breath away. I felt myself smiling as I looked up at her; she was stunningly beautiful despite the gnarled burns covering her face. Her hood slipped slightly with the force of her violence and exposed dirty blonde hair in thick braids. Seeing her pale face in the warm sunlight, I remembered I loved her. The determined grimace plastered on her face highlighted her strength.
Corbal continued yelling in the distance, his voice lowered by the altered passage of time. The love of my life kept barraging me with her fists, each one leading me toward sleep.
A final hit brought me back to full consciousness and reality caught up to me. With a whirlwind of sensation, I snapped back to lucidity and knew I was actually at risk of injury. A giant wave of pain crashed through the comfort and suddenly everything was real once more. Adrenaline shot through my heart and I was able to summon every ounce of strength I regained.
I cursed and my fire burst from my chest and knocked the attacker to her side, who let slip a scream and began frantically patting out the fire. I didn’t want to kill her despite her attack. In her hurry, a small bottle fell from her pocket. I sprung to my feet and grew dizzy. Carefully I felt my nose. It was most definitely broken. I spat blood and screamed at her, “What in Fields’ name was that for?!” She wiped ash from her cheek using her scorched mask, eyes wide with terror. She was no longer beautiful, and I had no idea why I fell for her in the first place. Panicking, she failed to snatch up the dropped bottle and tried to flee.
Nebrei ran to her and pounced, knocking her back to the ground. For a second I was worried Nebrei had crushed her, but pained groans signaled life. After gripping both of her wrists in one hand, Nebrei began interrogating, “Who are you? How long have you been following us?”
She struggled under Nebrei’s weight, but managed to turn her face to glare at me. She stared me down longer than I was comfortable with, and I felt scrutinized. Her gaze finally rested on my face, and I knew exactly where she was looking.
“So it really is true… I had my doubts, Keeper, that such a power could even exist, and I hoped they were weaving more lies, yet it seems you do live and breathe.”
Keeper? “Why do you call me that? Fields, this hurts…” I asked, holding a cloth to my broken, bleeding nose. My question was ignored.
“Though I am slow to the hunt, you do still bleed human blood- I must put an end to your violence before you destroy everything. You cannot be allowed to ascend!” As she spat the words, she kicked up gravel toward me. Nebrei chimed in with a chuckle, “Sizeable damage you’re doing. Relax and we can talk.”
The assassin’s face sank as she realized the impotence of her attack. “But your madness cannot be allowed to grow.” I was unsure whether I should be offended or frightened.
“What madness?” I asked. “Once, I spoke to those no longer with me. But that can’t be what you refer to.” Corbal stole a glance before eyeing the assassin with caution.
I kneeled near her, and lifted my shawl. Upon seeing my lost limb, any trace of hostility vanished, and her expression grew somber. “They’ve gotten to you already, yet you remain just a man?” The mood became neutral, signaling the threat had passed. Nebrei let her sit upright but stood close behind her.
Corbal approached and handed me a healing salve, which I took and applied to my face. The sting of contact enhanced the pain, but was quickly numbed. My headache was unaffected, focused behind my eyes. “I am indeed human, and I really don’t understand what you mean with any of this nonsense.” To make a point, I removed the bandage from my nose and let blood drip out. “You really did a number on me.” Speaking made my face buzz.
She looked me in the eye, studying once again, and it seemed she found validity in my words. “Despite my ambush you’ve shown me mercy. I came here expecting to die a horrible death at the hands of a monster, and you’ve shown me kindness as well. Perhaps the situation is not as dire as I’d believed.”
Whoever she was, she seemed to know a surprising amount about me. I never thought I’d have a reputation and likely would have enjoyed the praise if it gave me anything other than attempts on my life.
After tending to my injury, Corbal picked up the small bottle using a scrap of cloth. “What is your name, assassin?” he asked, turning the bottle in his hand. The powder inside was a shimmering blue, which when stirred, produced thick clouds and took time to settle. I looked at her and waited for her answer. After some consideration, she sighed, and replied, “Whatever name I might have possessed was stolen from me at infancy. I bear the marks of a slave,” she lifted her sleeves, revealing white scars from years of shackles. “…much like yourself.” She fidgeted with a piece of leather on her belt.
Startled by her accusation, I exclaimed, “I’m no slave! I’ve done farm work, crafted furniture and the like, but–”
“The brand upon your brow, your nightmares? They appear prophetic to you, don’t they? Your fate is not your own. Does that not make one a slave?”
I was taken aback by the weight of her words. I had indeed cast away my own predestined demise to make my own future, right?
“How did you…?”
She continued, “My fate was also chosen for me. I was born a tool to a family which grew like wildfire. Each acquisition brought a new sister or brother, collected together in reverence…” She trailed off and stared at her boots, but I didn’t believe she was seeing them. “But I will not die a slave.”
Corbal interrupted our conversation by asking what the bottle contained. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” He brought his green eyes closer, creating a beautiful reflection in his glasses. “Suspiciously so. Is this concentrated ambrosia?” His scholarly excitement grew.
“Yes. I crafted it myself from a ragweed derivative.” instantly she seemed nervous. “…it has certain advantageous properties for disarming one’s guard.”
“So there are psychosomatic applications for this? Reduced cognitive function and hallucinations are typical effects of ragweed. What did you add to it for your practical application? Efrit appeared to lose ambulatory capability, as well as total somatic control. I’m so curious as to what specific situations might one use this for. Somatic reconstruction? Or…”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The longer he spoke, his excitement waned, until finally he went silent for a moment. Ears drooping, he looked to the assassin with sympathy and continued, “My apologies. I’m so sorry.”
To my surprise, Nebrei spoke up. “You want a name? I’ll give you one.” The assassin’s eyes widened. I wondered if this is the first mercy she’d been shown.
“I am unburdened by the necessity for a name,” she said to Nebrei. “I have- had- a singular goal and no need for anyone’s help. So I would have no one to refer to me by any.”
Her response, in true Nebrei fashion, “That’s boring, how about Nedrei?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, “But it’s so close to your name, Nebrei, you can’t possibly choose that one!”
“Alright, Nefrit it is.”
Our group became larger for a moment. Even a small, uneasy sound escaped the assassin, what might have been a laugh at one point. Corbal asked her if she’d like to remain nameless. She thought for longer than a moment and a heaviness filled the air. We were all expecting something.
“You may call me Nameless, then.”
We had changed her mind about my assassination, so I offered her, “You can travel with us if you’d like, just no more assassination attempts.”
At first, she considered the proposal. She seemed thrilled at the idea. I studied her face and thought each groove of scarred skin once painfully stretched could likely never relax again. The natural creases in her forehead cast shadows deeper than someone her age ought to portray. The darkness under her eyes matched the unyielding drive from a source I thought primal. To rise from such hardship, especially one that stole most of her years, to finally reach a single goal— surely she would be a strong addition to our group.
A fleeting shimmer filled her eyes before they reverted to their steely gaze. She answered softly, “I’m sorry, I will not join you. I will be bound by no one. The goals I follow are mine alone, and I enjoy my freedom.”
I expected Corbal to feel turned down but to my surprise, he laughed, saying, “What an adventurer’s spirit you possess! You don’t need this ambrosia powder to win a fight- your strength comes from within.” He took her hand with both of his and gave a hard shake. “It’s admirable, really.”
The assassin’s face grew bright red beneath the scars. It was in stark contrast to her ghost-white skin. Incredibly pale… In a way, she reminded me of Headmaster Greene, if only she was capable of blushing, or showing any warmth at all.
“At least stay with us for tonight, if you wish,” I told her. Corbal turned to me, brow slightly furrowed with concern, and with a subtle hunching of his back made himself smaller as though to not have Nameless hear him say, “Efrit, are you sure you’re alright with this? She did try to kill you, after all.”
I thought a moment, but found no hesitation. If she intended to smother me, my broken nose would alert me quickly, and I don’t need to move to summon my flame. Really, if anyone would be affected, it would be everyone else. Corbal tells me I still mumble in my sleep, even on mornings I don’t remember a nightmare.
“Yes, but she will sleep next to one of you. I don’t want to jostle anyone else in my sleep.”
Corbal began pulling supplies from his pack to make a campsite. I was still curious how everything fit inside that- to me, normal sized- backpack. From the nearby patch of trees, I heard Nebrei snap a decent-sized limb from a tree and break it over her knee for a campfire. Every time I forgot her strength, she found a way to remind me. I’m happy she chose to be on my side.
I sat there and pulled the cloth from my nose. The bleeding had stopped, but it was still sore. I would be smelling blood all night when my nose wasn’t clogged. Having campmaking roles covered, I waited for Nebrei to return with the logs. Nameless rested near me, watching me, but not in a hunter’s way; it was more like she felt relief that her mission was complete and she could retire her vigor, if only for a night. She appeared to be lost in thought, silently examining the bloody bandage. I felt like I should say something.
I reassured her, “No hard feelings, Nameless, alright? You did what you thought you had to.”
Without meeting my eyes, she quietly replied, “My whole life I was told what I had to do, orders given to follow. Now that my decisions are my own to make, I don’t know how to make them.” She bundled her clothing into a pillow. “I did not mean to cause you suffering. Not you, the human creature. I meant to kill the Keeper before he could destroy everything. But I see now that concept, too, was a malice built from lies.” Now, she faced me, with something resembling hope in her face. “You are kind and merciful. Those traits are not found in the ascended Keeper.”
This moment was brought to an end when two thick logs fell near us, followed by an armful of sticks. “Efrit, are these dry enough?” Nebrei asked, but it was more a statement than an honest question. I shared a glance with Nameless, and replied, “If they’re not, they will be shortly.”
I arranged the logs into a pyramid and sparked flame at the center. I opened my mouth to speak but stopped when I saw fear in Nameless’ eyes. She was entranced by the fire. No, terrified. The light highlighted the gnarled scars on her face, each flicker revealing depth and form of repeated injury. Not knowing what to say, I laid out my bedroll and began arranging it before I lay down. Corbal dug around in his pack and pulled out some fruit. It was Nebrei who spoke first, asking how Corbal preserved food and the like in his bag. He shrugged with a smile and distributed food to everyone. Nameless was still fearful, so I thought it best someone else hand her dinner.
The tallness of the trees made our camp darker than an open field would, and much colder and damp until the sun met the top of the sky and gave its light to the forest floor between the crowns of the forest. It was about an hour after the sky’s light faded that Nebrei was snoring. Corbal was up tending the fire. I asked him if he wanted me to take care of it, and quietly brought up the obvious reason for my volunteering. He said he didn’t mind the fireside, and that the air was getting colder and he preferred to stay close to the heat. “Suit yourself,” I dismissed. I rolled onto my side to watch the flames with him. He smiled at me and watched the fire with beautiful verdant eyes turned flickering orange in the reflection in his glasses. After some time I realized I was watching the fire solely in the reflection, and a while after that, I wasn’t seeing the fire at all, and then I was asleep.
* * *
Alertness slowly crept into me before I opened my eyes, or what might be alertness through the fuzziness in my head. My headache had gotten worse, and my head felt like it was buried in dirt. My nose was the least painful part of my face. When I tried to sit upright, I lost my balance and fell back to my side. I’d never been so drowsy before. This must be what it feels like after drinking too much… I resigned myself to never taking that chance.
Corbal appeared next to me and put something in my shaking hand, closing my fingers around it; it was the water bag. “I bet you’re feeling pretty sickly right now, aren’t you?” he assumed. He was right. I tried to speak and immediately suffered a dizzy spell. Each movement split my head, and then I was lying back down.
“Why didn’t I feel this horrible last night?” was all I could make myself say. It was, at best, just a weak mumble.
“Ambrosia is one of those substances that takes its toll. There’s a balance in all things. The highs of inhalation are equal to the lows afterward.” As I turned my head, a groan escaped me and I wiped the sweat from my brand. I had no mind for philosophy so early in the morning.
As we spoke, he packed up the cookware and bedrolls, and I remembered Nameless’ anxiety last night about my fire. I decided to talk to her to try to ease her fears and learn more. When I looked, making sure to turn my head slowly, she was nowhere to be found.
“Where did she go?” I asked to whoever would know.
Corbal answered, “She disappeared after you fell asleep. Nothing was stolen—not that I thought she was a thief, but you never know. She stayed to listen to you mumble a bit and took off.”
“Mumbling? That’s quieter than usual, supposedly.”
“Yeah, something about the world on fire. Typical for you. I wonder what you dream about.” His words were laced with sarcasm. “Though they seem to have gotten milder. You don’t call out much anymore.”
“How do you know? Corbal, did you sleep last night?”
“Enough to function,” he replied, but his heart wasn’t in it.
The darkness around his eyes betrayed him. True, the nightmares had softened to dreams following the destruction of the Effigy. I wasn’t aware my sleep-talking reflected them so strongly.
“Corbal, what do you dream about?”
“New things, mostly. New and fantastic places, novel experiences. I’ll admit I get a little carried away sometimes. They contribute to my curious nature I suppose, luring me with wondrous, ephemeral journeys with the promise of discovery, taunting me with impossible places that never existed.”
“Interesting. What do you dream about, Nebrei?”
“Sleeping in,” she grumbled, at first digging deeper into her bedroll. She then stirred once she caught the scent of eggs in the pan. “But also breakfast.”
“Well at least your dreams are attainable,” said Corbal.
I added, very quietly, “I hope mine are.”
We prepared to leave. I noticed Nebrei breathing harder than usual despite just waking up. We were all exhausted, but pressed on.
Later, we reached a small cliffside clearing. I surveyed the land we had traveled already and was taken aback at how far we’d walked. It must have been miles. The ground beneath the cliff stretched onward forever, disappearing into the distant mist. For a while I stood near the edge of the windy cliff and marveled at how small the forest seemed at the bottom of the mountain.
Corbal noticed my awe and came to join me at the overlook, also taking in the view.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” I said, still fixed on the rolling foothills.
“Tall, too. In some parts, the crests reach even higher than the clouds.”
“I didn’t think it would take this long to climb these. They’re big, but they didn’t look this big from down in the valley.”
Nebrei mentioned how much harder she had to work as we climbed higher. “It’s weird, like no matter how much I breathe, there’s not enough air.”
“And you’d be right. The air is thinner at higher altitudes.”
I knew it. There are invisible magics at play. That explains the snow, as well.
“Who’s taking the air away? Do they turn it into the snow?” I asked the professor. He stopped mid-step and turned to me, confused. I continued sheepishly, “…is that not how it works?”
Dumbfounded by my ignorance, Corbal hefted his bag off his shoulder and set it on the ground.
“I’ve never seen this stuff before,” I revealed.
“It never snowed in the forest?”
“No. Didn’t rain, either. It was just day or night, and the dewcatchers captured enough water for the crops that we could store. It was either that or we walk to the stream.”
“You… actually, let’s camp here for the night. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you both are as well.”
“We didn’t go as long today,” Nebrei remarked. “Is something wrong? I can keep going.”
“Yeah, it’s still daylight, and we’ll have light for longer with this clearing.”
Uncharacteristically, he wasn’t open to reconsiderations. I guess he really didn’t sleep last night. Come to think of it, he did seem even more sluggish today. He told us he wanted to make camp early, so we did. Nebrei broke branches for firewood and built a circle out of stones to put them in. The wood smelled different from the oaks and birch I knew at my village- these smelled sweet and syrupy.
I wandered around the campsite, staying within sight of the fire. The trunks of skinny-limbed trees weren’t as thick as the ones back home, but they added up quickly. I imagine it’s easy to get lost here. The trees grew taller than any I’d seen, with peeling bark frayed at the ends and waxy needles for leaves. Corbal told me before to expect a change in weather. I never thought it was cold, mostly because I was hot-blooded and comfortable, but it was definitely windy even in the forest. Corbal was particularly bothered by the cold air. I was unbothered, though I did have a nosebleed on one drier morning. Bathing away travel’s grime with water taken from frozen rivers brought me less discomfort than actually gazing into the swirling depths below the crystal-clear surface of the river.
Of course everybody feared drowning at some level. But for me, the sight of deep water stirred something visceral in my heart that I’d rather forget. I suppose it was only natural for fire to dislike water. But for every glance upon any clear surface to drag my thoughts inevitably toward what it would feel like to drown; surely there would be an end to my phobia. Then I thought about the nature of my flame. A gift, Agnistreya called it. A blessing. Maybe that explained my total aversion to deep water, my Agnistreyan burning blood can’t fathom something so opposite its own nature.
I wondered if it was similar for those actually learned in animancy. Corbal specialized in divination. He spent my lifetime several times over learning how to find things he couldn’t see, yet he didn’t fear the unknown; instead, he admired it. Surely they’re opposites, knowing and not knowing, right? Even so, he was unbothered by the unknown. He sought discovery before all things, and I admired him for that. Based on this, I assumed my gift wasn’t animatic at all.
Nebrei and Corbal spent the rest of the day was spent huddled in blankets around the fire I kept alive. I gave my blanket to Corbal as I didn’t need it to stay comfortable. Nebrei didn’t question it, or maybe didn’t understand it at all– I think she believed my warmth to be some aspect of being human. Nebrei shared stories about her village, which, try as I might, I could not focus on. While I tried to pay attention, I also needed to feed the fire. It had gotten easier to hold concentration on my flame while doing other things, but it wasn’t perfect. I had to mentally sculpt the fire like I was guiding wet clay into functional shapes on a potter’s wheel.
That night, the extent of Corbal’s inability to keep warm was revealed.
I awakened abruptly from dead sleep to the presence of something unexpected beside me. At first I thought it my pack, though why I might have my pack under my blanket was another mystery. I turned my head and saw it on my other side, right where I left it. A smaller bedroll was still sprawled out near it- unoccupied. I also had loaned my blanket to Corbal, who… Where is he? As panic began to take hold, something shuffled against my side, and I peeked under the blanket.
“Oh.”
He looked supremely cozy beside me, much more comfortable than out buried within his own bedroll. He wasn’t used to such cold mountain temperatures. I did recall him telling me it was warmer where he’s from. I didn’t mind the intrusion… I found myself welcoming it. I’d never laid next to someone before, but for once I felt accepted, maybe even whole. This was probably how Anna saw me, before…
I cried. I had come so far and never knew, it never once occurred to me what I was missing. I pulled Corbal closer and cried, nestling my face in his hair. For longer than a moment nothing changed. He spoke first, apologizing, “It was so cold, I didn’t mean anything by it, I promise… I assumed your blessing might have some role in somatic thermoregulation, and it would appear I was correct.” Regardless of intention, hearing him break the silence with familiar polite chatting brought me to ease.
He continued with an increasing scholarly interest, “Maybe your somatic anima has been fundamentally changed by the brand? The sun hasn’t reddened your skin in our travels, you can consume boiling liquids, and not to mention your immunity to burns! When I first saw you, you had your hand deep in a campfire, unscathed! It would be madness if not explained by somatics. Ignimancers usually aren’t fireproof.”
Corbal might not have been far off. It was true I could withstand the maladies of heat and fire, but for whatever reason I felt an intense inhibition to revealing my madness, the content of my nightmares, and Agnistreyan visions. They should be kept to myself. I chose not to enlighten him. Corbal’s constant reassurance was beyond pleasant, and I always looked forward to making breakfast.
I never believed myself capable of love. Before now, I had only experienced Anna’s attempts to close our distance. Now I understood why they fell flat and I couldn’t reciprocate.
Nebrei still slept silently in her own bedroll. I fell asleep quickly with my arm over Corbal.
* * *
I am empty. The pit in my stomach becomes a hungry void and pulls into it my own body and I watch myself consume everything that I am. Then, with claws of flame and growing hunger I drag any and all things toward me, devouring forests and crying faces with dead eyes. The sinking screams of people I recognize only through the vagueness of a dream stab at my memory with knives of guilt. I scream into my own hunger for more and am all at once consumed wholly through the unfeeling eyes of fire.
* * *