♫King Crimson - Battle Of Glass Tears♫
...409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrUOJ2XgZXU
409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCVflOOtqUw
— ...You shall do the ritual dance, Niamh – I said to my sister, as I've looked with my eye throught the telescope, who had been made by these people so they could look throught this sandstorm, the same old dust of ages. It didn't happened already, though if it happen sooner than I've expected, I don't want to see anything. I'm not a mere witness, but someone who is there to give some aid for this people. This sandstorm is the only defense against the invaders, besides some beasts born into this trunk. Ephemeral defenses, all of them – the sandstorm seems to be weakening, and our prayers aren't enough to make it stronger – their prayers, you mean. I don't believe in it anymore, but they do, more than I could before. If I believed that this whirlwind of sand could protect my people, I wouldn't even be here on first place. Not even I am able to fight the invaders on my own if they reach there, even if it means that I am the only one who's carrying of a spear, a dagger, and sharp claws.
— I know why you've came here. You didn't missed me and mother only, I see – she said. I could see that she was a bit shaken, not as much as I do. Was it because I was the only one there who had a blade lying inside this sheath, or the only one with the intentions to ever use it? This I don't know, like many of the things into her mind. Niamh may be my sister in blood, and that's one of the fews I know, or I'll ever know about her. We are even, somehow poles apart, too much apart. This place seems out of the time running from outside this dusty curtain, yet I have spotted a few moogles delivering their cards, mostly written by the distant relatives akin to father and this me's lives. At least, you could have written something for your sister, don't you? I could have done the same for mother as well... – the strenght coming from you and only may not suffice
— I know it. The strenght of Cleyra also comes from you as well, and those who still believe in the strenght of this sandstorm, unlike me... – I said. Nothing can trespass it, except those who are willing to do it so. Animals do no have a will to achieve a dry land, or any other place where there's nothing or any favourable condition for their breeding. Yet, sailors travel throught the seas, the wastelands like the entirety of Vube only to find what is buried below, but anyway, we all end up buried to reach the above, but some do it earlier than others. That's what they meant to call by evolution, yet we are still behaving like animals, or rats fleeding from an eartquake. Father's name may be on a legend, yet what does ever that mean? Only a few succeed, while others disappear, or share of a mutual meaning lost by anyone else. It doesn't matter the name, just the position you are. Even above this trunk, I am found below the clouds, never that I'll reach them, only with those moments I shared with Sophia that everything seemed so easy to achieve, like her hand, and her trust, and her...
— If the rain of this Burmecia you had been living is meant to be eternal, so does this sandstorm, don't you agree? – Niamh came near me, or so did her hand upon my shoulder. They all seem to do this to bring some comfort, only for this body. I didn't even looked at sis, as I only saw barely a sight of her, or what seems to be a piece of her dress. Kinda like a withered flower, or a blossom upside down, still lively like her. I may have agreed a long time ago, Niamh, when I was a kid. Now that I grew up, I have no one else to believe into absolutely, althought I call some of them by friends, relatives, wife, sons... these are just names meant to be taken by everyone else, as if absolutely the first word coming from many mouths is meant to be 'mother'... That was the last word I've uterred here at Cleyra, before father took me to live beneath a steel sky.
— The ceremony will soon begin – in person, the current Priest of Cleyra, Reverend Blaine came over us, or maybe just for my sister. He is as old as father would be today, if alive. And Niamh pretty much looks alike mother, back on those days. Barely I remembered her, until I saw my sister, and her children as well. One of them is called by Ivo, the others one also had their own names, though it's to recall them all. Six of them, only one that I've remembered by pure luck, or just by the look I gave to his mother. He was so close of her, now he's somewhere else, wandering around the town as much as I've used to do.
I guess this will be the only day I had ever been able to see them, not only remember those faces. Faces... The crowd that used to be at the market is gone, but the people belonging to this place, this trunk who never had gotten rotten, fortunately are still there. I recall that on same street, among the crowd, I saw his for the first time. A young Sigurd, or Eithrig as he used to be called by, was there as well. I didn't knew his, neither he did knew me as well, but as soon as we grew up, we began to grow a sort of relationship only because we were once Cleyrans. Only once, until we became what we were meant to be all along, or so he intended to say. I won't be able to see it. I'm sorry... I tried to say these words to Niamh, but she's gone. I decided to follow of her trail, also left by other maidens there, until I've reached to the front of the main cathedral. Why am I doing this? I'd rather stay away from this cold, I don't want to see anyone bleeding, I'm worried about sis, I don't have any excuse, so I just don't know.
There are things meant to be remembered when on sleep and to be forgotten as soon as I wake up. How long it took for me to be awaken from this slumber without ever hearing the rain from outside the window? As soon as I enter inside this place, holy grounds belonging to same bucolic ambient, I am able to see it from there. Atop the ceremony's harp, lies a small shining like a jade crystal. That is the Desert Star, whom the alexandrians are willing to reclaim on their own. Same crystal is what sustains this sandstorm, for a brief period of time. For a thousand years, this dust went flying over this trunk like a spiral staircase, and not even once it had disappeared from the sight of these people, as much as they also have disappeared from this world's sight as well. These people, not that crystal who once belonged to Alexandria. Year after year, a ritual dance is meant to be done in order to assure of it's power, since nothing else is unable to control or even generate such thing as the sandstorm of outside, a power subsided by the gods, some would say.
The same dance made on those times when Burmecia was one; maybe it was half already, always had been. A Kingdom made of half people, yet they look all the same, but as soon as we grown up, we become recognize not only because we are alive, but becauses of the job chosen to be done. And also because of the differences between the grounds, some are covered in dirt, others are clean like porcelain; This place is both dusty yet calm, alike that same dance. From left to right two times, right to left once again, middle, chords, a spin, chorus, outro... repeats. So simple it is this way to a sandstorm become so powerful. Gracefully, these maidens do the dance so they can still remain alive. I'm also carrying of a spear for this same purpose, although the results are not as clean as a single steps done by them. Man and woman... they belong to the same pieces of a jigsaw. It may be hard to fit all of them together, but someday, each part may fit with another... I feel complete, yet incomplete, empty. This emptiness may disappear from me, but soon it'll be all over me, not only in this sight.
— I thought that you wouldn't be able to see my dance – finished of her duty, my sister came over me. She looked at me, and noticed how I was, as if I was ready to lie to her, or just tell the truth, with speckles of a lie. 'Of course I would be here for you. If, at least, I did the same for mother when she was alive...'
— I wouldn't, if I couldn't believe in your own strenght... – I said. It wasn't meant to be this, but sounded and shared of same intensity. And I wasn't lying. I may not even believe in myself, but I do believe in the others. Some others, like I used to do with the Major, or his son. Still I do, and that's one of the main reasons I am there. The another... I'm sure that I'll miss you, sis.
...
409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWGmv1W1w1X
409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhlZyt6T35e
They were friends. Their hands clasped onto another, until all the colors bled into one... Plenty of movement. My legs are already that tired, yet I cannot stop moving. A hundred men, maybe fifty by now. I know only fools set the rules over this squall world. And fools are those who obey of same fools. The image of an ideal father succumbes and vanishes, slowly fading away from my vision as soons as wer're attacked by our enemies. Something told me to awaken as soon as I've stepped into another fool, but I didn't noticed, because they all sank into these dunes. As soon as the sky changed to a crimson belonging to these hands, their eyes changed into a pitch black belonging to a barrel, or a mouth filled in by tar. Walking around the blood section, as if we had been stepping into the clouds belonging to this same sky, or maybe we became them, by the gray ingrained onto our skin. A world of skin, where wounds are red like the velvet wrapped into our necks. A splinter once came into my hands, like his jaws, his teeth. Thirty two of them, trying to eat of this flesh belonging to me. Twenty five... Darkness covers my view as the Mist of before and noise enshrouds my ears. With this stain in my hands, I see a butterfly, once a giant caterpillar who ate the leaves of an entire tree, flying like a moth coming into the light. Unlike birds, they can't fly into the rain...
Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain... Ain't gonna rain...
...One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!...One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One,two... One... One, two... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!... One... One, two... One... One, two, three, four!...
...AAAAhhh! WWRRRRAAAAAGHHRRRRYYYYYYAAAA... A wall of noise raing into my ears. Cacophonies... Now I can't hear nothing, and why would I? I can see the stain, my own, belonging to this stomach, once covered by an indigo outfit. It's so dirty that I can't even tell which color is it now, and so dark this place have became as well. Dark like this soul, this desert remains cold without a sun. The rain of home is so cold... So cold is the tip of his blade, so cold the look of his eyes, so cold I've became as well... But not dead. The bastards laughs before choking itself with a cut belonging to his own sword, whom I've took out of his hands. They still remained attached to such sword, as much as we remain tied into another, by love, or hate. These two 'things' do not exist in here, althought we are still tied, by something other than the judgement upon our hands. So unfair, isn't it? The only force who seems to be working here to make us stop is the gravity, and the weight of soulless bodies, althought I, like some of they, still stand, unlike this sweat, and something other than my dirt pouring out of me. She's leaving me...
I am glowing a sort of light, yet I do not feel pure. Never that I've felt such thing, such scent, such weariness, and yet, I can't stop. What is reality, what is illusion, what is pain, what is strenght, who am I, what I have became by other's hands... Like chickens without their heads, these soldiers remained alive, yet the look of those cavities reveal such empty vessels. I stabbed another in the chest, and the heart stops. I can't feel it, but I know it stopped, and this heart won't be able to beat once again even if it remained inside of his. There is one of them behind me. There are a few ways to take care of his. Most of them will result on his death, but this one's way... a kick is enough to cripple him. It hurted me as well, besides his bones. He ain't dead, but maybe he's wishing to be, just like me... I want to stop, yet I don't want to die, althought I may deserve such punishment, or some great reward. I am another belonging to such pile of puke mentioned by Sigurd, as it seems; I am sorry, father. I can't feel anything, but shame. And this stain all over me, blending with this sweat, this stinks. I stink...
'Your mouth will soon be filled in by honey'... Clyde also stinks. Tasted like fish. My mouth is filled of sweat, or something unbearable enough to make me speak nothing, be silent like the wind. The breeze is meant to be calm, to float over someone's face, and so do I, and these claws. Who else other than me to climb that tree and catch those honeycombs to later grow a beard of bees? Instead of a beard, this random person now shares of some scars on the portrait once called by 'face'. Multiple wounds for multiple faces... No, I am not enjoying this. I am not enjoying this, Clyde. I cannot do this... I can't... My abstract father... Clyde... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!...Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!...Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!...
Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!...Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!...Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaa!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... Lalala lalala, lala la la la... Lalala lalala, lala la la la!... La la laaa la, la la la laaa lalaaaaaaaAAAAAAAARRRRR!... I swear I didn't mean it... I didn't mean to... Didn't to... No... All I want to do is to forget this is happening, it already happened before, who else to tell it will begin once again? It began... will it ever stop? I can't tell exactly when, and how. I can only be quiet, like the harsh wind, and these men are all windows. Their shards are resting on my hands... Clyde's last shards. I... I killed him. I didn't even had a reason. Coming from the bottom of my heart, I didn't. Mother would never hear me, father wasn't there, but I... I killed my brother, the close I ever had of a father... Even if I didn't, but the enemy instead, I contributed to his death... He also contributed to my own... this ain't the 'me' they see on me, but the one whom I've kept hidden, they didn't even noticed me...
409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSczNqo8Vvz
409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcNc0srv1Q3
...
— This will be the last one, Cecil! – I said, as soon as I've jumped in there, the same hole I've found with Clyde. I didn't knew anything about that person, but I'm sure he won't go unavenged. Not by my hands, but others may curse the life of the one who took it, even if they won't know who it was. Maybe it was me, who did nothing to prevent this, or Sigurd, who began it all, even my own life, or there is no one else to blame, only the circumstance that leads to another other than ourselves. This ain't myself... This may be Trance.
...A phenomenon caused by an intense state of emotion, overcoming this body more than the sweat found a way to be fred from such; the shape, the glow abruptly changes my character, once kept hidden. Only humanoid beings whose reasoning had been taken for emotions to be filled into the void left enter on Trance. With imagination, you can do everything... with emotions, you are unable to do something. The berserkir units used to evoke the spirit of animals, and other beasts such as the Grand Dragons hovering around the heights far away from this desert, and the Mist that surrounds the entire continent, except this desert. A massive energy is growing within me, and like the drips of sweat, it needs to be discharged, and when fully out of myself, it naturally ends. How it have gotten triggered? It can be done with the death of someone, the anger comes next, some may feel sorrow, others fall in despair; anything you feel seems more intense than before. Just a single mistake, like I did for not helping this poor soul before it's gone becomes an immesuarable failure... It couldn't happen here. No, it couldn't.
Somewhere, a mother cries for his sons. On another, the assassin fleds, runs away with the weapon who made such crime to be commited. There is nothing there that is alike a crime, but we are all dead. We are all assassins, but some are more assassins than others. Either way, we are all cowards, disguised as assassins. So much easier it became to kill someone... Things do not get dirty, and there is no hardship or painstaking between. The only pain belongs to the victim, but which one is which there? This will be your end, Cecil, or maybe mine's. It doesn't matter... My life could had been taken instead of this someone else, whom I wished I knew more than the face, or half of it sunken in the sand. And I have gotten inside there, on an opaque place. From above me, I can hear their screams, yet I can't feel them beyond these ears. Even if they were mine, I wouldn't be able to know how does it feel to be cut. I, besides that Sigurd, am wearing an armour, unlike those men wearing of their indigo clothes. Clothes that can be tore apart with a limb... And spears so heavy that there is no time to use it's tip, but instead I can hear the wooden pieces hitting in the chests, or any other part of the body that is possible for a bone to shatter easily. Maybe the legs, yet I can hear them walk, crawl as well.
— From rat to man, and from man to rat... it became impossible to distinguish which one is which... – the bastard grins like a jack o'lantern... right there. Above me, so quick as the spell made by his – Climhazzard! – he shouted, as if he wanted those besides ourselves to hear of his voice, as if the triumph of his over mine had already been declared. Nothing is that easy, Cecil knows, and so do I, avoiding of that attack, but not without the costs. I can't move the left arm, never that I did tried to, only when holding of both of them together. Instead of the water of a lake, only mud resides there, and I do fall, instead of stand still on it's border. Sparkles in the dark... how I've used to see them before I felt asleep. Not now... I can't fall, or even be asleep, without the knowledge of a morning. I just can't... I may pretend to give up, because this fight is meaningless, unlike the death that shall come with one of us.
— Why do you insist on this pursue against me? Are you trying to prove something? – Cecil asked, as he came closer, awaiting for me to rise and fight against his, as if his knight code still mattered even for me, a Burmecian
— Then why did you fled to this place?
— ...To lure you here was my intention. I can't believe how stupid you are, or became. Am I a threat for you to come this far?
— You've killed my true father! Your mere existence as an Alexandrian corrupted the soul belonging to Sigurd! – I shouted, as I tried to stand still, but this hand, the left one... it doesn't allow me to stand so easily. So easy was to shout to that man, only because I am on such pitiful state... He is the reason father didn't get home, or ever had the time to be there. That's what I've heard from Sigurd when I stood at the tent, before I've tried to left, until he told me so. This is messing up with my mind, who doubts that the fact father died at the tip of this alexandrian's sword tip may be a lie. But I have no one else to believe into, or to justify the matter into something clear besides this same alexandrian...
— The soul doesn't get rusty easily alike this sword, and did I killed your father? This doesn't help. They were so many that I've lost count, but now that I see you... you're nothing alike his. I may not know who are you personally, but I see his onto you... he didn't took so long to ascend and come at me, without any sword. The one from Lindblum who took this ringfinger out of my hand, alike your father, they shared of the same end, just so you know – ... and did I asked you for that? I threw some mud into his face, unable to spit with my own mouth. No wounds left on his, only on others, and those who came so far to reach that moribund flesh were taken away from those who remained into this world.
A bit skeletical if without that armor around his, once silver but now brown like mine, I once heard that Cecil is agile, but not foreversame for those bones, hidden like a turtle when afraid, but his head still remains attached to that neck, and Cecil isn't a man to put some fear into. He interpreted that pile of mud thrown into his as a sign that I, already standing still in front of his, am ready. I was born unready, it wasn't the right time, I could have died there pretty much like mother, but he was there, besides my brother. The smell of the dead coming from that mouth... the scent of every word, the desire of throwing out a puke comes right when his fist hits my chest. It also hurted him as well, or the last remnant of a pain that belongs to any living being. By clashing our both swords, or by hitting that same arm covered by thick metal, I can't finish it yet. Cecil could easily cut my left arm; it wouldn't make any difference. Only a scream, but I am speechless. You can't talk while you're chewing, or when these eyes like jaws are tied into your meat. The sun has already set, Cecil... when will your life go down with it?
That man is strong, so does his sword. I wonder how I am able to hold such heavy thing with an only hand... I wonder how I am still alive. A snake awaits to wrap it's prey, a rat like I do with her own tail, slowly crushing each bone belonging to same animal. Cecil can't do the same, but still intends to give me the death penalty, he always did the same for those alike me, even father. The one who left me for some fights on places like these... they are all dark, like the soul of those who had gotten here, anywhere that may be settled a battle. Enough... does this same word have a meaning there? Did it ever had a meaning? If my brother knew of such, he wouldn't be sick all the time, before and after I was born. Sometimes, Cecil casts another one of his dirt tricks, by allowing of his spells to make an appearance to my eyes. A spark comes out of his sword, and nearly that it came right throught me, only at my vision after I've jumped backwards. Same spells are the same ones that makes us be able to see ourselves on this dark, besides the unnatural glowing of that silver tip, and this silver skin of mine.
— Is it that we want?... – I said. I'm already tired, for someone young like this, and I am earlier than Cecil on any aspect, except the patience. All along, besides some usage of magic, this had been a fair battle, a joust where the spears are all made of iron that doesn't bend. I can't take this, I can't let this last for too long... I just want this to be over. As soon our swords clashed, and remained glued by the force remaining on our arms, an only arm for me, I said it – more pain, more suffering, more grief?
— ...More grief? No... – Cecil interrupted me, as that sword ergued before his own face. With both arms tied into our swords, in front of us, swords being uttered, words clashing, cutting and opening wounds as well – I'll end it at once. As soon as the blade of Magdalene takes away the live of you, the last Burmecian I caught with my both eyes... whatever is the place that you, rats, designed to be the resting place of your souls, your paradise, the Tophet your god made to send their own children into; anyway, I'll die too.
...As much as you, and your soul, I am lost. No more that I am sure to where should I go, or to whom should I believe, like before. I can't even believe on myself, or what I have done, or what I am suppose to do. So, without any hesitation, I'll feel no guilty into putting an end to you... Manfred. He won't die before I do, but possibilities can be changed by people other than yours. Same for the landscape. There is another between us that had gotten plenty of damage as well: these walls. We are deep into the desert's soil, it's so cold... Not only this passage. I felt the tip of his into my tail, and then I don't feel it anymore. It felt behind me... my own tail. Like a navel string cut after I was born, and yet, I wasn't dead like that tail. The one who cut it stood in front of me, a bit tired, but with a smirk on it's lips, while the ones belonging to me were plain. Same for that tail, and the ribbon who used to identify me, or the ones below me. Cecil... So many opportunities you had given to me, and this face of yours. Not only his lips became smudged by crimson, but only half of his face went swollen afterwards. Like a hanged man, I threw him right throught a wall; my left arm may had become numb, but none of my bones were shattered.
I can hear the closing fanfare playing from his moans. Not the last ones, as they slowly fade away and begin once again... He pretends to stand up, but can only stand on his fours, like an animal does. His hair falls out of the skull, besides the blood inside that armor. I hold of my tail, the only loosen limb of mine, with both hands. It'll rotten, but before it does, I share of my warmth with the same. The energy inside me has been discharged on same fight, so is it over?... Why am I not glad? I may be, but he's still alive. If I've killed Cecil right now, I won't be any better than his, and his descendants may pursue me to the rest of their lives, privated of their innocence, of their own time to be spent with people other than the ones of same blood. I didn't wasted my time awaiting for Cecil on that state, because I had been privated of the main truth. Dark as this place, except a small bit of light... coming from the ceiling. The walls are damaged, and like the skin of an old, they begin to shatter, and come down...
— We've got to get out of here! This whole place is about to go down! – I said, lending my hand to my tail, and only. Never that I would give my hand to his... We are even.
— ...And you are the only one here who cares... – Cecil barely said, on all fours, bleeding, covered by mud, as everything above seems to be about to fall into us. I must escape, yet I do not want. Because of this same place I am standing. This place, dark, warm, grimmy, almost hushy of the noises coming from outside... it feels like home.
— No. I am not sure to where should I be, where should I go... – I said to his, this man, this Cecil standing on the floor, knees and arms damaged – you too. I want to fled from this place, all my problems, yet, I also want the same as you do...
— No... you don't – Cecil said. He tried to yell, but his throat couldn't open as much as mine did, throwing of those words that slashed more than that chest. He ain't no more a threat for me, but only this quake, this landslide about to happen, at any moment. It already happened, with both of our souls – you... for you... Reason is the only way to be sure, my son. You have no reason to die, as much as I do have some... Your death will become meaningless... you, Burmecians, are all meaningless... But your deaths, your efforts, your... Are you... feeling guilty? After all I had done, for the cost of more than my own finger... my own body... pathetic. What a pathetic revelation that came right now... pathetic, unlike this death... farewell.
That would be the perfect death, but it only came for his instead. There is someone awaiting for me, other than that hand; Sigurd's own. I ran to the near exit, but not expecting his. I could, at least, run, but not from Sigurd. How ironic, given that he was the one who started it all, and also the one who seems to be sure of a way to end it as well, given how he looked at me with those eyes. He was the least one I was expecting. I didn't wanted to hold his hand, as soon as one of the steps belonging to that wooden ladder broke, but without that hand, I wouldn't be able to hold the ones belonging to those other than his. There are a plenty of them awaiting for me, so I had to be there with them. I've left Cecil and my tail behind... We saw the debris falling from the distance, so near like the dust who fled into our eyes. The dust of a sandstorm coming from that same trunk, still there, as well. I didn't won anything, but knowledge, and angst of the unclear decisions I've left home, where I shall be soon, instead of the skies.
409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCaJyEpwSQO
...
ns 18.68.41.181da2
