#i recognize it by sight alone. without fail someone always brought it to feast

[bookwyrminspiration]

Kotlc crew’s favorite human foods (if they weren’t vegan)

ooh I am also curious to see what I will come up with for this question! Also I am in no way familiar with all the diverse cuisines of the world so if someone has an addition please feel free to share! the more perspectives the better

Sophie: Canonically her favorite food was fettuccine, so I see no reason not to stick with that! Though if I had to pick something in addition, I'd say maybe a tomato based soup of some kind. She's a warm comfort food kinda person

Fitz: Mole. It's got that deep, rich flavor with a hint of a kick to it and is so versatile! It can go on practically anything and instantly elevates it, so it's very highly rated in his books.

Keefe: Seafood of some kind. Maybe tuna nigiri or some kind of roll with crab. I cannot explain it he just has the vibes. Posssibly a dish with scallops involved as well, maybe a nice pasta

Biana: Perhaps spring rolls? They're incredibly customizable and I think she'd enjoy arranging her fillings to look nice and be delicious. I feel like she'd also really like shrimp, but I'm not sure why.

Dex: Something lemon or pineapple related, he just feels like a tart person. Maybe a sour soup, though I don't have an exact soup in mind. That general area of cuisine though

Marella: Something cool because her body runs so hot, so my first thought was cold soba, but a chilled cucumber soup could also be a good contender.

Linh: She feels like a salad person, so shirazi salad. Light and refreshing and cool and bright, it's just so simple yet delicious.

Tam: Curry. I haven't figured out what kind but I'm thinking he'd appreciate something along those lines. Okay I've done a little more digging and I'm thinking a jalfrezi dish. Savory flavor with some kick

Stina: Getting pasta vibes from her but haven't narrowed it down. Something with a thinner sauce, sundried tomatoes and basil. When I look up things in that vein the internet gives me pasta pomodoro, so I'm going with that

Maruca: Kabob koobideh. I do not know why I just thought of them and then thought of her. Smokey and grilled and juicy and rich in flavor, it just feels like it suits her

Wylie: Fried plantains. With a nice texture on the outside and the warmth, they're a nice comfort food. I also don't quite know my reasoning here but just go with me okay

Jensi: pure cane sugar

[unluckyadept]

Flare of the Morning Star

<<—Previous——————Flare of the Morning Star——————Next—>>

PART V: REASONS

“…Can't… can't remember much, besides… besides the string, and those Shears, the terrible noise they made…”

[Time had lost all sense of meaning.

He’d “seen” it coming, of course. They weren’t quick about it. It wasn’t the first time they’d shot him, either.

He had just enough time to brace himself for the impact—

—which was enough to knock the wind out of him—

And then…

…nothing seemed to happen.

He wasn’t sure why.

But he became even more confused as looked down in a dazed state, putting a hand to his chest—

And seeing shards of Life.

He looked up and out into the darkness, noticing for the first time how quiet it was.

Silent.

He struggled to catch his breath, but found that impossible. The more he tried, the weaker he felt, and he ended up sinking to his knees before collapsing onto the ground.]

[With his hands firmly against the surface, his head bowed as he struggled to avoid passing out…

Honestly, the last thing he expected was to start falling down.

It was as if gravity had reversed itself and Time had lost all meaning. As he continued to fall, he felt weaker and weaker—and the shards of Life became ribbons flowing off into the distance. Vibrant, with ethereal colors that were beyond description—not like any aura he had ever seen before…

…except… …once.

Felix’s eyes widened in shock as the flicker of memory sparked recognition in his mind… and even more as one of the strands glowed with ominous intensity in time to the recognition.

He’d seen something like this before…

…atop Mars Lighthouse, where the Mars Star had showed him the trail of his life, and all the places where it had waned.

His entire body seemed to become enveloped in light, but he knew better as he continued falling—

This was his Life, his experience that flowed through history. It was a stream, his trail, left across the lands.

He struggled to see how it intertwined with anything else, but it was so bright as to become blinding—

And as he reached out in forlorn dread, trying to grab onto something that would keep him from unraveling entirely…

Within his sight—his vision, his doom, his dying dream—

They were all brought together by something far off, wound together until they formed a strong, thick cord.

At first, he didn’t understand… but that ended very quickly.]

[When he saw the Shears appear in the darkness, he recognized what they were capable of. He’d seen them before, after all—and he knew what they could do.

As they closed in across the stream of his Lifetime, rooted deep in his soul, he understood with dreadful clarity that the hands of Fate held his _life_ to be measured and severed from the world.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such a dreadful sound as the harrowing tone produced as the shears slowly drew together, coldly severing the yarn of Life. As each thread fell away—starting to unravel—the bonds that had hold on him dissolved into nothing, leaving him untethered.

It burned. As the shears cut through the thread of hope, he was left burning with despair.

His hopes and dreams were burning away. All the things he had been looking forward to doing, all the things he had wanted to experience. They were being taken from him—he had failed.

He hadn’t been enough. He had been convinced that he would be able to turn them back, that they wouldn’t have the mettle to oppose such vibrant determination. And he’d been wrong; he’d underestimated their brutality and overestimated their human decency. They’d overtaken him. He’d been weaker, in the end. And now—now he was losing everything. Even if he managed to continue—dead or alive—it would have to be in a dark, dismal world bereft of joy.

And without a doubt, if Felix knew one thing, it was suffering. His was a life of suffering that just would not end. Just when it seemed that he had finally found peace, something or someone would rob him of serenity. This always happened. Always… without fail… again… and again… and again… and again.

And he knew his fate. The weight of the accursed prophecy burned right through the sense of hope.

For his was a terrible fate, a burden one would not wish on any man.

He had lived through so much pain. His misery would compound just as soon as he was reaching a state of peace. How much worse would it get—for him, for those he loved—if he continued?

What reason did he have to live if there was never to be any joy?

What reason did he have to live?

What reason did he have?

What reason?]

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓶𝓮…

[He was prevented from falling into the abyss as the last of the cord was severed, for the core of it all had become clear—

A chain.]

𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦…

[Promise. He’d made a promise.]

=-=-=-=-=-=

[He could see it. He could hear it. Oh, it was so, so close. So close that it _hurt._

More than anything else right now, he just didn’t want to lose it.

He wanted to go home. Home, now, where his friends were. He wanted to prepare feasts before the fire, with rich spices and a bounty so plentiful that all would have their fill.

He just wanted for this madness to end. For the sun to rise, to celebrate their deliverance from such a dark, oppressive shadow.

To dance, to laugh, to sing.]

«Sheba…»

«I promise you…»

=-=-=-=-=-=

"I promise you I haven’t lost sight of it."

[He’d made a promise. He had things to do. People relied on him.

He had a duty to uphold.]

[Even as he was falling, he grabbed hold of the chain—abruptly coming to SUCH a sudden stop that it felt his heart would be torn from his chest.]

[The weight straining on him immensely as everything else seemed to be dragging him down into darkness.

The chain held strong. The Shears had come to a stop.

It all held still.]

[He had something to live for, a reason to continue; there was a duty he must carry. If life was to be a burden to him, it was still his burden to carry—his responsibility.

And that… that was enough. That was a reason. A reason to endure. He could not lay it down, nor cast it away; it was his obligation to carry on, even if he was doomed to suffer.]

[But a chain is only as strong as the weakest link, and the fire of despair was all-consuming.

He was slipping, slipping from the suffocating weight.

He had failed. He had failed his duty, and now—

What more could he do? What good would it be to anyone, to drag out the consequences? He was a doomed man, and his was a life of sorrow and loss. If he couldn’t help others and only compounded their struggles with his own curse of misfortune…

Honestly, he’d rather die than live a life under tyranny. And he’d said as much. He’d meant it, too.

Those had been his last words, when they’d ordered him to surrender—

“{Death first!}”

And he was a man, only a man; he did not have the power of the spirits, let alone of Creation. As indestructible as he was, he was still a mere mortal, with everything that mattered subject to other things.

And even the strongest devotion and willpower in the world could not turn back Death.

His own demise had been a long time coming. Time and again, he’d slipped from the net and evaded his reckoning.

But he was in this situation now because he had finally been outnumbered, and his day had come at last—the last thing he could remember were the archers unleashing a volley. A volley that had to prove fatal.

Why else would it feel and seem as if he were dying?]

Dying… but not dead.

Not yet, at any rate…

[His ever-looming fate was calling to bring his life to a close, to claim him in the fate that was sealed with his doom. But even in such a dreadful hour, against over a hundred armed soldiers, it STILL hadn’t been enough to slay him outright; even THEN, he managed to—somehow—actually survive such a strike, and yet lived… strong enough, perhaps, in each fragmented moment, to endure.

He was having to fight for his life against the weight of the darkness—

But that meant that the fight wasn’t over, and he had the choice to continue. He was badly injured, but was living yet; in order to die, he would have to actively let go.

How long could he hold on? The strain was immense, and the fatigue was atrocious. He was so tired of pain and sorrow; he wanted to rest, to live on in peace. There was no peace to be had in a life of oppression; he’d lived eight years in the wilderness to try and escape such a dictatorship, and STILL his life had been ruled by fear and bitterness. It was only in recent time that he had finally started to escape from the shadow, and had truly begun to heal—

But now, the darkness that pursued their destruction had overtaken him once more. He might never see a time of true happiness again. He might, to be sure—but at what cost would it be? And how long would it take? And even if they triumphed—would the damage be too much to be undone? Was it even possible for them to live a life of prosperous peace?

That was all he wanted, all he wanted for his people. As a Venus nomad and exile, he had no singular nation; his duty was to the Lighthouses—Venus especially—and to the peoples that guard them. His heart and his fate had brought him to defend Lalivero against the brutality of the Tolbi Empire, and Angara was no longer his home. His heart burned with the noble flame of Mars—which was more intense than most of his friends could handle.

And the reminder made it burn in him now.

Venus may be Life and Death, but it was Mars that encapsulated the {[spirit]}; Venus was the vessel that carried the wisdom of Jupiter and clarity of Mercury, but it was the essence of Mars that illuminated the soul with passion and hope.

Venus was the will to endure—to suffer out of obligation to others and an _accepting_ sense of obedience.

And to that end, he had been pushed to his limit.

He slipped further, only just barely hanging on, feeling the desire to let go and sleep REALLY start to sink in to every fiber of his being.

He was absolutely exhausted, and held no energy to muster.

He’d seen more suffering in the last two decades than most would see in a lifetime; he barely managed to force himself through it all, and he had no desire to return to those dark days where his sanity could barely keep hold. He had such heavy obligations he’d have to carry, […] even in a time of oppression and despair. He would have to resist the oppression and speak out against it, refuse to give in to it, enduring the worst of the malice that tyrants could bare. Such torture as he had endured would be inflicted again; there would be threats and violence, and he wouldn’t be the only one to be punished for daring to dissent, to speak out against their Pride-driven evil.

But he would have to do just that, to adhere to true justice; he could not abandon the innocent in the hour of need, and it was his responsibility now to suffer and toil for the benefit of others, for those that came after him. He may never enjoy a life of serenity, but it was his duty to work for such a future so that others may live. For such was the sacrifice that all men are called to; a lifetime of service for the loved and the innocent, that they may know peace.]

[It hurt. A lot. And yet…

He wanted just a little more time…

He wasn’t ready to let go.]

[Tired. So VERY tired.]

“𝓘𝓯 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓾𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓸𝓵��𝓽𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼, 𝓲𝓽’𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾.”

[Climb.

He was exhausted. Too exhausted to move, and was only barely hanging on.

But he knew, even as the weight of despair was PULLING him down, down into oblivion, to be dragged through the veil by the Dullahan and tossed into the river, to be pulled into the depths of the dishonored dead or ferried across the waters by Charon—

He was going to HAVE to climb.]

“𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕪𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕚𝕟.”

[He had to.]

[But he was shaking from his weakness, his grip failing him.

The exhaustion—the exhaustion was too much. He just wanted to rest.

If he just… if he just… if he relaxed, he wouldn't have to deal with this anymore.]

𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓲𝓽, 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽?

[So tired.]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕞𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘.

[He had to remember why he HAD to do this.]

[The sense of duty wasn't enough to pull him through this MISERABLE suffering. But it would have to do.]

[Climb.]

[The weight seemed to melt away into gentle relaxation. It made him feel like he was falling asleep…]

"ᴬʷ ⁿᵒ ʸᵃ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ—! ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ, ᶜ'ᴹᴼᴺ!"

[He had to climb, but he wanted to sleep.]

"ᴬʷ ʰᵉˡˡˢ, ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿ'; ᴼᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ, ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!"

[There was a bright sense of light calling out to him, earnest and kind, encouraging him to hold on. It made him cringe a bit—too bright—]

𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁…!

[He was so tired…]

𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮…

[He had to climb.]

[He reached up and hoisted himself up, ever so slightly.]

"ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ʸᵃ ᵍᵒ—ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵒʷ, ʸᵃ ʰᵉᵃʳ?! ʸᵃ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵗ' ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ!"

[And again.]

"ᵀʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ—ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿ' ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ��ᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ—"

𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁… 𝓲𝓽'𝓼… 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮. 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻.

[And again.]

𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁, 𝓬𝓪𝓷—𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓶𝓮?

[And again.]

"ᴶᵘᵈᵍⁱⁿ' ᵇʸ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᶻⁱⁿᵍ, ᴵ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢᵒ. ᴴᵉ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ ʸᵉᵗ, ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ…"

𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮…

[A strong cord of lavender was appearing around the chain, and he was filled with a burning desire to pursue it.

He could feel it, he could feel that inviting sense of LIFE calling out to him, felt—felt so good, wanted—wanted more, wanted all of it—]

𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕓𝕒…?

"𝑯𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅—!"

[He strained to keep climbing, couldn't—he couldn't let go, he wanted it so badly—

It hurt, the way the want burned at him, but that golden thread was weaving around the chain as well— he really hurt, but he was so desperate to draw nearer, draw nearer to her—]

"ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ… ᵈᵃᵐⁿ, ᴬʰ' ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸʸ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵒ ᴰᴱᴬᴰ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿ'. ᴴᵒʷ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉˡˡˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ?"

𝓘𝓽'𝓼… 𝓾𝓶. 𝓐𝓼 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓹𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓽, 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵…. 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓐 𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂.

[He couldn't help but laugh at that. Even though he could barely breathe, starting to lose everything as it faded around him…]

"ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵐᵃʳᵏˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᴴ'ᵃᵃⁿⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵏⁱˡˡˢ. ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵃʳʳᵒʷ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ?"

[—but it came back with a vengeance, his grip slipping.]

"{𝕬𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘, 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓!}"

"𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒕? 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚!"

"{𝕷𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊!}"

"ᶠᵒᵘʳᵗʸ-ᶠⁱᵛᵉ ᵇʸ ᵐʸ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ, ʸᵉᵃʰ…"

"{𝕱𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝕿𝕳𝕬𝕿? 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝕷𝕺𝕿 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖙.}"

"—ᵃʷ ᵈᵃᵐⁿⁱᵗ, ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵁˢ, ᵗᵒᵒ…"

[If he couldn't—]

“{𝕾𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙’𝖘 𝖎𝖙, 𝖍𝖚𝖍? 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖏𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝕲𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖆𝖓?}”

[If he wasn't strong enough, if—]

“{𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖞, 𝖘𝖍𝖊’𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙.}”

[If he wasn't strong enough to protect her—!]

𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁—𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁, 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽—𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓰𝓸, 𝓘'𝓶 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮; 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮—!

[How could he keep going?]

"𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚡 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖊, 𝚊 𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗."

[It just couldn't possibly end well. Things like this would never end, and he would drag EVERYONE else down with him, too! So long as he was in their lives, so long as they were attached to him, they, too would share in the pain of his perpetual suffering.]

"𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅… 𝑨𝒍𝒇𝒚𝒏, 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈?"

"ᵂⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘʳᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿ' ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᵐᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴸᴵᵀᴱᴿᴬᴸᴸʸ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ʰⁱᵐ… ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᶜᵃʳˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ. ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ, ᴹⁱˢˢ, ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵗ' ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃⁿ' ʷʰʸ?"

“{𝕾𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖉𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖙? 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙.}”

[He was slipping.]

“ˢʰᵘᶜᵏˢ—ᵒⁱ, ᵖᵘˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ, ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖˡʸ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ⁿᵘᵐᵇ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ, ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ, ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ—”

[His strength was rapidly draining, and he couldn’t keep a grip anymore, slipping further and further down into the darkness. It didn’t weigh down like it had earlier; it made him feel so sleepy…]

"ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ˢᵃᵏᵉ, ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ˡᵒˢⁱⁿ' ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵏᵉᵉᵖˢ ᵘᵖ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ…"

"𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈…!"

"ʸᵉᵃʰ, ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵐⁱʳᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ. ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵖᵒᵗʰᵉᶜᵃʳʸ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵉⁿⁱᵉ."

"𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅…"

[So tired…]

"ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵂᴬᴺᵀ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᵇᵃᵈ. ˢᵒʳʳʸ… ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ, ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᶻᵉᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ—"

…𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭…

"𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕?"

𝓝𝓸. 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓽 𝓛𝓔𝓐𝓢𝓣 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮.

𝓗𝓮'𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮…

𝓘 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓲𝓶.

𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕓𝕒…

[…but he had to keep. Climbing.]

𝓓𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓾𝓹, 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁…. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓦𝓘𝓛𝓛 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵. 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓢𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓽…

𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂…. 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮. 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝓮.

[He felt drawn back again, given calm strength to continue as she started singing part of something the ice child had taught her.]

𝓘𝓯 𝔀𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓶𝓹 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻

𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝔀𝓲𝓶

𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷?

𝓘𝓯 𝔀𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓲𝓵𝓽 𝓪 𝓼𝓮𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓯𝓵𝔂

𝓸𝓻 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷?

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸 𝓘'𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓐𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓴𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓾𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝔀

𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓸𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝔀…

[Fading…

Fading, into…

…dreams…]

((By Neshirys, a kind soul throughout the time and tide of these troubling times))

Once Felix woke from his comatose state about a month later, it was confirmed that he was blind due to the overpowering release of Death energy that occurred as he was dying. Until his Life energy comes into balance with it, he will remain unable to properly see.

That is not, however, quite the end of the story…

Rather, it is the beginning.

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