The Final Strife

Here and now, and so we live.

—

It had been days, maybe weeks. Jond was so dehydrated he had sucked the urine out of his clothing long ago. He was done.

“I’m done.” The words were just an exhale of air. “Let me out please.” He knew if he had any water to spare, his eyes would have leaked. He would have drowned in the tears that poured from his empty eyes. He would have drowned and died in this blackness of guilt.

He crawled to the door. His knocking was weak, but someone or something stirred behind it.

Then there was light.

—

She had collapsed long ago. Still, she sang on in her dreams. A lord of her castle.

O-o the tidewind came from sky afar

The penance for the blood power.

Anyme sings, Anyme brings.