HOME | DD

Description
After the Battle

There was no sensation, no thought, no dreams, or even memories. The void stretched on and on, or it would have stretched on and on, if such words had any meaning here.

Slowly, like sunlight illuminating the depths of a dark pond, awareness started to flood into the nothing that prevailed. Anger, fear, confusion swarmed the…mind.

That's what it was called. A mind was something that held memories that carried and thoughts of the body. Body. That was something different, wasn't it? A body was something that the mind controlled. It was something…what was the word? Real!

A body was able to move, to feel. Feel. It wasn't the same as emotions, but the two were somehow tied. Feeling was something that was exclusive to a body. It…it was no use trying to describe things that could no longer be experienced.

If they could no longer be experienced, then they had been experienced once before. Memories, if remembered awareness of one's own body could be called a memory, flooded into the void.

Instead of nothing, something could be felt. A body, a solid body, a real body that could dream, that could think, that could feel.

The creature struggled against the darkness, his limbs flailing through nothing. He couldn't tell if he was falling or rising, or both. Warmth spread across his back and a dusty coarseness prickled at his arms and neck.

The world around him came into focus. Thick black mist rose into the air, and the light of early morning poured over an unending stretch of sand.

"Where…am…I?" the man thought. He got to his feet, and looked around, trying to find out what was going on. There was a small water filled hole a few yards away. He felt pulled to it, and his limbs obeyed the tug

He knelt down next to the hole, and slowly peered into its depths. The water was placid and still, and he was beginning to wonder why he had felt so intent on looking at it at all. His own reflection stared up at him, forcing him to gaze upon it.

His hair was flaming red, and his eyes were solid orbs of night sky blue. The blue started to drip down his cheeks, and it merged with the red streaming out of his hair. His hair and skin were now solid white, and his eyes were pale gray. The man stared down, a volcano of panic rising through his body. He finally managed to push up from the water, every muscle in his body screaming to get up and run as fast and as far as he could manage, but his limbs remained locked in place.

He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself. His beating heart slowed down, and the storm in his mind calmed a bit, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it to settle. Too much was going on, and he couldn't wrap his head around any of it.

He forced himself to think, straining to keep his thoughts in some sort of order. First things first, where was he, and how would he get…home? Somewhere in his muddled thoughts, he knew there was something wrong with that statement.

There was something missing, something that was just out of his grasp. Slowly, it dawned on him. He couldn't get home, because he didn't know where home was. The more he tried to search his mind, the more he found that it was as empty as the desert around him. Everything was shrouded in darkness, even his name.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. He leapt, staring face to face with a leather skinned man with short gray hair. The man was wearing a loose fitting shirt and pants in shades of gold and beige that blended in with the surrounding sand.

"Who the hell are you?" He glared at the newcomer, clenching his hands into fists.

He took a step forward, causing the man to lower his hand..

"I…I'm Grus," the man said, starting to back away.

"You know what's happened to me, don't you?" He grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him closer. "What's going on?"

"Please calm down," Grus said, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Look, I just want to know what's going on." He let his arms fall to his side and stepped back from Grus.

Grus sighed. "I have seen this many times. People show up in this desert with no memory and their very identity dripping from their faces."

He put his hand to his face and felt the wet color that was still damp on his cheeks.

"I thought that was a dream," he said quietly.

"It wasn't," Grus said. "Do you remember anything at all?"

"No," he said, as the air itself seemed to whistle through his thoughts.

"Most don't," Grus replied. "Do you at least remember your name?"

He tried to pull anything from his mind that would even resemble a name, but all was black. He didn't want to go around as the nameless man with gunk on his face, so he said the first word that came to him.

"Dark."

"That's not a name," Grus said.

"It is now," Dark answered.

***

Dark felt like he was in an oven. A continuous sheet of sweat rolled down his body, gluing his clothes and hair to his skin. His mouth felt as if it were made of sand, and his even his eyes felt dry.

Grus strutted along, whistling a high pitched tune and trying to converse about the various animals and plants they passed along the way. He was currently commenting on the dietary habits of a gray skinned beetle, and how they mated while standing up.

Dark placed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Will you just shut up?"

"Sorry," Grus said and continued to whistle.

"Don't be sorry, just be quiet."

Grus muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Dark tried his best to glare at Grus, but the bright sun made it more of a squint.

"Nothing."

"That was not nothing! Tell me what you said!"

Grus shrugged. "Hey, you're the one who wanted me to be quiet…"

Dark opened his mouth, but clamped it shut. After a while, he spoke again.

"Look," he said. "I'm sorry... I think the sun's getting to me. But could you please be quiet? I have a terrible headache."

Grus fell completely silent and the only sound was that of the scurrying of large brown lizards. Small smudges dotted the ground, and grew as the continued on, until the entire desert was a mass of sticky black ash.

Tattered cloth and jagged pieces of grimy white stone littered the ground, and the scent of sulfur and charred meat clung to the air. Dark took a closer look at the stones, and saw that they were actually pieces of shattered bone. He bent down and picked one up, weighing it in his hand as he felt the sticky brown flesh that clung to it. He looked up again, and saw that the scene went on further than he could see, countless skeletons laying in a plain of charred sand. He dropped the bone back down on the ground and rubbed his hand on his pant leg several times.

"What happened here?" He looked over at Grus, who was watching him with a frown, his eyes focused on a patch of clouds.

"Sephia," Grus said, a bitter sadness to his voice.

"What's Sephia?" Dark looked around at the scene again, and a chill ran through his body, sending tremors to his legs and arms.

"It's not important," Grus said, stepping forward and continuing on.

Dark ran up to him, peering around with small jerky movements, sticking as close as he could to his companion.

"How can you say it's not important? We're walking through a mass grave!"

Grus turned away from Dark, hiding his face. "I know."

"I don't want to end up like them!" Dark waved his arm over the charred expanse of land. "Is this Sephia going to spring up and turn us to ash?"

"There is no longer any danger here," Grus said.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

The bones became more dense as they walked along, crunching under their feet like glass.

"It doesn't seem right, Dark said, "walking here."

Grus jerked his head around and stared at Dark. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it seems, you know…" Dark sighed. "We're walking on the dead."

"There's nothing we can do about that," Grus said.

"Can't we just walk around it?"

"It goes on for miles in every direction," Grus said, sighing. "There's no way around it."

***

Dark stared down at the lake from his perch atop a high ridge of rock. He dove into the water and splashed his way back to the surface, taking a gasping breath. He swam to the shore, and sat down next to piece of orange scrub brush. He looked back up at the outcropping, and Grus, who was stepping down from a rocky path.

"You shouldn't have done that," Grus said.

"Why?" Dark ran his fingers through his hair and squeezed out the dust and grease.

"Because desert lakes aren't always deep, and if you haven't noticed, your clothes are soaking wet." Grus knelt down next to the lake and scooped up a handful of water.

Dark crossed his arms. "How is that a problem?"

"Just wait until night," Grus said.

***

Dark shivered next to the fire, a fine mist of steam rising off his clothes. Grus had filled bulbous purple flowers with pieces of lizard meat and skewered them onto a thorny branch. They sizzled and popped in the fire, a bitter and sweet smell wafting through the air.

"Do I know you? I feel as if…we know each other, or at least we should."

Grus looked up at Dark, slowly turning the branch over the fire. "No, I have never met you before."

Dark looked back down at the fire.

"Why were you out in the middle of nowhere?"

"Lots of people are left to die out here. I try and help as many as I can."

Dark shook his head. Something was wrong, he knew it. Deep in the haze of his mind, he could almost remember what. But it didn't matter. He'd die in the desert without Grus' help and didn't have the luxury of doubts. He sighed. "Where exactly are we going,?" Dark finally asked.

"To Amacar," Grus said. "It's a small village on the border of the desert."

Dark wrapped his arms around his chest and inched closer to the fire. He poked the logs sharp piece of lizard bone and stared at the flames, watching little pieces break off and travel upwards as sparks.

"What happened to me?' he finally asked.

.Grus pulled the stick from the fire and laid the two flowers across a boulder. "Your body and mind were sucked dry of their memories and magic. "

For the first time, Dark didn't care about his missing memories. "Magic? I have magic?"

"Had magic," Grus said.

"How do you know I had magic?" Dark looked up from the fire and into Grus' eyes.

"You were in the middle of Viastra desert with a leaking face," Grus said, as if it explained everything.

"And?"

"That was your magic draining away."

Ooookay," Dark said, holding his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "And why was my magic drained?"

"The evil that ravaged the desert…" Grus turned his attention to the fire.

"That Sephia thing," Dark said.

"Yes," Grus said, still staring at the fire. "But Sephia is not a thing. He is a man."

"Wait, a man destroyed all those people?" Something flashed through Dark's mind, but like lightning, it was gone.

Grus frowned. "And countless more. He also drained away every last bit of magic that was not his own."

"I can't remember any of that," Dark said, as he pulled himself closer to the fire.

Grus picked up one of the flowers and offered it to Dark. He bit into the other flower, wiping his face with his hand.

"It's obvious you remember something," Grus said."You knew what magic was."

"I know what the word means," Dark said. "Just like I know what fire means. But I can't remember it."

Something tickled the corner of Dark's mind, and he tried to reach back and ease it out. The more he tried, the more wispy it became, until it disappeared completely. His body tensed, and he grit his teeth, before leaping onto his feet.

"If I have to track him down and wring his neck, I'm going to get back what's mine!"

"Calm down," Grus said, standing up. "You're going to get into a whole mess of trouble. It's best if you just leave things be."

"That's easy for you to say! You aren't half a person!" Dark glared at Grus, fire coursing through his veins.

"Magic is just a skill," Grus said. "It doesn't make you anything."

"I wasn't only talking about the damned magic! I have no memories, no idea who I am!"

"I know," Grus said. "Please, just try and sleep on it. Things may look better in the morning."

***

Dark wandered through his dreams, smooth fragments of strange worlds, finally catching hold of a small fragment of memory.

"You can't do this!"

"It's already done…"

Grus stood over him, one foot pressed against his stomach. A inky black blob surged from the ground, and crept up his body like ivy. An icy chill filled his bones, and a piercing scream echoed around. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the yell was coming from his own mouth.

Dark sat up, his voice dying away in the red desert dawn. He scrambled to his feet, and whirled around the campsite, before picking up a long piece of lizard bone and stomping through the burned out fire. Dark knew he should escape into the desert, away from Grus and danger, but he gripped the bone tighter and continued to walk.

"Grus!"

He found the man standing next to the lake, holding a dripping water skin. Grus dropped the sack and backed away. Dark raced towards him, but Grus turned around and ran into a copse of thick brown vines that surrounded the oasis.

The vines towered over Dark like trees, bending and waving and obscuring Grus from his sight. He ran onward, pushing his way through the smaller hanging tendrils, catching glimpses of movement ahead.

He smacked into Grus and stumbled backwards, and smacked into the ground like a falling boulder, the piece of bone slipping from his grasp. Grus stood over him, foot firmly planted into his chest.

"You need to calm down," he said. "I don't want to hurt you, but -"

"I know what you did to me," Dark growled.

"It needed to be done," Grus said.

Dark grabbed Grus' foot and twisted it to the side, sprung up with all the strength he could muster. Grus lost his balance and sprung on Dark, gripping his neck and pulling them both down.

Dark pulled at Grus' fingers, but could not pry them loose. He gasped, reddened pain seeping into his throat and face. His strength gave way and he fell to his knees. The edges of his thoughts grew cloudy and slowly started to creep towards the center of his mind. He let himself fall to the ground, as if he had already succumbed to death. The bone tickled his fingers, and he inched his hand until it was resting on top of it.

"Dark?"

The pressure on his neck subsided and he felt Grus gently shake his shoulders. He gasped for breath and thrust the bone upwards.

Grus staggered back, the bone protruding from his chest. His eyes widened and he gripped the object, sitting down with a thud. Dark bent down and wrenched the bone free, letting loose a river of blood from the wound.

"I would never have hurt you," Grus sputtered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh really," Dark wheezed, glaring at Grus. "Then why did you attack me? Why did you drain me of my magic and memories? I know who you are…Sephia."

Grus lifted his head up and stared at Dark, the tears falling freely.

"I'm not Sephia," he said. "You are."

***

Dark set a large boulder on the mound of rock and sand. He took a piece of charred ash from his pocket and scratched Grus' name into the front. Memories trickled into mind, mixing with the heat and causing him to swagger.

"I'm sorry," Dark said, wiping at his eyes, as he stared at the grave of the one person he swore to never hurt, the only person left in the world who saw him as he was. "Goodbye little brother."

He headed over to the lake and knelt down next to Grus' water skin and bag. He lifted the bag's flap and rooted around, finding a small blade and a red book filled with detailed sketches of desert vegetation.

Dark wiped the tears from his eyes and put the book back into the bag. He slung it over his shoulder and picked up the skin, a sloshing sound coming from within. He dropped the skin into the bag and closed the flap back over, then looked out over the lake.

The sun was low in the sky, and the sounds of wildlife filled the oasis. A pair of sapphire plumed birds broke the surface of the lake, and a long silver fish leapt in giant arches through the air. Dark took a deep breath of the semi-moist air, and then started to walk.

Description
After the Battle

There was no sensation, no thought, no dreams, or even memories. The void stretched on and on, or it would have stretched on and on, if such words had any meaning here.

Slowly, like sunlight illuminating the depths of a dark pond, awareness started to flood into the nothing that prevailed. Anger, fear, confusion swarmed the…mind.

That's what it was called. A mind was something that held memories that carried and thoughts of the body. Body. That was something different, wasn't it? A body was something that the mind controlled. It was something…what was the word? Real!

A body was able to move, to feel. Feel. It wasn't the same as emotions, but the two were somehow tied. Feeling was something that was exclusive to a body. It…it was no use trying to describe things that could no longer be experienced.

If they could no longer be experienced, then they had been experienced once before. Memories, if remembered awareness of one's own body could be called a memory, flooded into the void.

Instead of nothing, something could be felt. A body, a solid body, a real body that could dream, that could think, that could feel.

The creature struggled against the darkness, his limbs flailing through nothing. He couldn't tell if he was falling or rising, or both. Warmth spread across his back and a dusty coarseness prickled at his arms and neck.

The world around him came into focus. Thick black mist rose into the air, and the light of early morning poured over an unending stretch of sand.

"Where…am…I?" the man thought. He got to his feet, and looked around, trying to find out what was going on. There was a small water filled hole a few yards away. He felt pulled to it, and his limbs obeyed the tug

He knelt down next to the hole, and slowly peered into its depths. The water was placid and still, and he was beginning to wonder why he had felt so intent on looking at it at all. His own reflection stared up at him, forcing him to gaze upon it.

His hair was flaming red, and his eyes were solid orbs of night sky blue. The blue started to drip down his cheeks, and it merged with the red streaming out of his hair. His hair and skin were now solid white, and his eyes were pale gray. The man stared down, a volcano of panic rising through his body. He finally managed to push up from the water, every muscle in his body screaming to get up and run as fast and as far as he could manage, but his limbs remained locked in place.

He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself. His beating heart slowed down, and the storm in his mind calmed a bit, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it to settle. Too much was going on, and he couldn't wrap his head around any of it.

He forced himself to think, straining to keep his thoughts in some sort of order. First things first, where was he, and how would he get…home? Somewhere in his muddled thoughts, he knew there was something wrong with that statement.

There was something missing, something that was just out of his grasp. Slowly, it dawned on him. He couldn't get home, because he didn't know where home was. The more he tried to search his mind, the more he found that it was as empty as the desert around him. Everything was shrouded in darkness, even his name.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. He leapt, staring face to face with a leather skinned man with short gray hair. The man was wearing a loose fitting shirt and pants in shades of gold and beige that blended in with the surrounding sand.

"Who the hell are you?" He glared at the newcomer, clenching his hands into fists.

He took a step forward, causing the man to lower his hand..

"I…I'm Grus," the man said, starting to back away.

"You know what's happened to me, don't you?" He grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him closer. "What's going on?"

"Please calm down," Grus said, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Look, I just want to know what's going on." He let his arms fall to his side and stepped back from Grus.

Grus sighed. "I have seen this many times. People show up in this desert with no memory and their very identity dripping from their faces."

He put his hand to his face and felt the wet color that was still damp on his cheeks.

"I thought that was a dream," he said quietly.

"It wasn't," Grus said. "Do you remember anything at all?"

"No," he said, as the air itself seemed to whistle through his thoughts.

"Most don't," Grus replied. "Do you at least remember your name?"

He tried to pull anything from his mind that would even resemble a name, but all was black. He didn't want to go around as the nameless man with gunk on his face, so he said the first word that came to him.

"Dark."

"That's not a name," Grus said.

"It is now," Dark answered.

***

Dark felt like he was in an oven. A continuous sheet of sweat rolled down his body, gluing his clothes and hair to his skin. His mouth felt as if it were made of sand, and his even his eyes felt dry.

Grus strutted along, whistling a high pitched tune and trying to converse about the various animals and plants they passed along the way. He was currently commenting on the dietary habits of a gray skinned beetle, and how they mated while standing up.

Dark placed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Will you just shut up?"

"Sorry," Grus said and continued to whistle.

"Don't be sorry, just be quiet."

Grus muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Dark tried his best to glare at Grus, but the bright sun made it more of a squint.

"Nothing."

"That was not nothing! Tell me what you said!"

Grus shrugged. "Hey, you're the one who wanted me to be quiet…"

Dark opened his mouth, but clamped it shut. After a while, he spoke again.

"Look," he said. "I'm sorry... I think the sun's getting to me. But could you please be quiet? I have a terrible headache."

Grus fell completely silent and the only sound was that of the scurrying of large brown lizards. Small smudges dotted the ground, and grew as the continued on, until the entire desert was a mass of sticky black ash.

Tattered cloth and jagged pieces of grimy white stone littered the ground, and the scent of sulfur and charred meat clung to the air. Dark took a closer look at the stones, and saw that they were actually pieces of shattered bone. He bent down and picked one up, weighing it in his hand as he felt the sticky brown flesh that clung to it. He looked up again, and saw that the scene went on further than he could see, countless skeletons laying in a plain of charred sand. He dropped the bone back down on the ground and rubbed his hand on his pant leg several times.

"What happened here?" He looked over at Grus, who was watching him with a frown, his eyes focused on a patch of clouds.

"Sephia," Grus said, a bitter sadness to his voice.

"What's Sephia?" Dark looked around at the scene again, and a chill ran through his body, sending tremors to his legs and arms.

"It's not important," Grus said, stepping forward and continuing on.

Dark ran up to him, peering around with small jerky movements, sticking as close as he could to his companion.

"How can you say it's not important? We're walking through a mass grave!"

Grus turned away from Dark, hiding his face. "I know."

"I don't want to end up like them!" Dark waved his arm over the charred expanse of land. "Is this Sephia going to spring up and turn us to ash?"

"There is no longer any danger here," Grus said.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

The bones became more dense as they walked along, crunching under their feet like glass.

"It doesn't seem right, Dark said, "walking here."

Grus jerked his head around and stared at Dark. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it seems, you know…" Dark sighed. "We're walking on the dead."

"There's nothing we can do about that," Grus said.

"Can't we just walk around it?"

"It goes on for miles in every direction," Grus said, sighing. "There's no way around it."

***

Dark stared down at the lake from his perch atop a high ridge of rock. He dove into the water and splashed his way back to the surface, taking a gasping breath. He swam to the shore, and sat down next to piece of orange scrub brush. He looked back up at the outcropping, and Grus, who was stepping down from a rocky path.

"You shouldn't have done that," Grus said.

"Why?" Dark ran his fingers through his hair and squeezed out the dust and grease.

"Because desert lakes aren't always deep, and if you haven't noticed, your clothes are soaking wet." Grus knelt down next to the lake and scooped up a handful of water.

Dark crossed his arms. "How is that a problem?"

"Just wait until night," Grus said.

***

Dark shivered next to the fire, a fine mist of steam rising off his clothes. Grus had filled bulbous purple flowers with pieces of lizard meat and skewered them onto a thorny branch. They sizzled and popped in the fire, a bitter and sweet smell wafting through the air.

"Do I know you? I feel as if…we know each other, or at least we should."

Grus looked up at Dark, slowly turning the branch over the fire. "No, I have never met you before."

Dark looked back down at the fire.

"Why were you out in the middle of nowhere?"

"Lots of people are left to die out here. I try and help as many as I can."

Dark shook his head. Something was wrong, he knew it. Deep in the haze of his mind, he could almost remember what. But it didn't matter. He'd die in the desert without Grus' help and didn't have the luxury of doubts. He sighed. "Where exactly are we going,?" Dark finally asked.

"To Amacar," Grus said. "It's a small village on the border of the desert."

Dark wrapped his arms around his chest and inched closer to the fire. He poked the logs sharp piece of lizard bone and stared at the flames, watching little pieces break off and travel upwards as sparks.

"What happened to me?' he finally asked.

.Grus pulled the stick from the fire and laid the two flowers across a boulder. "Your body and mind were sucked dry of their memories and magic. "

For the first time, Dark didn't care about his missing memories. "Magic? I have magic?"

"Had magic," Grus said.

"How do you know I had magic?" Dark looked up from the fire and into Grus' eyes.

"You were in the middle of Viastra desert with a leaking face," Grus said, as if it explained everything.

"And?"

"That was your magic draining away."

Ooookay," Dark said, holding his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "And why was my magic drained?"

"The evil that ravaged the desert…" Grus turned his attention to the fire.

"That Sephia thing," Dark said.

"Yes," Grus said, still staring at the fire. "But Sephia is not a thing. He is a man."

"Wait, a man destroyed all those people?" Something flashed through Dark's mind, but like lightning, it was gone.

Grus frowned. "And countless more. He also drained away every last bit of magic that was not his own."

"I can't remember any of that," Dark said, as he pulled himself closer to the fire.

Grus picked up one of the flowers and offered it to Dark. He bit into the other flower, wiping his face with his hand.

"It's obvious you remember something," Grus said."You knew what magic was."

"I know what the word means," Dark said. "Just like I know what fire means. But I can't remember it."

Something tickled the corner of Dark's mind, and he tried to reach back and ease it out. The more he tried, the more wispy it became, until it disappeared completely. His body tensed, and he grit his teeth, before leaping onto his feet.

"If I have to track him down and wring his neck, I'm going to get back what's mine!"

"Calm down," Grus said, standing up. "You're going to get into a whole mess of trouble. It's best if you just leave things be."

"That's easy for you to say! You aren't half a person!" Dark glared at Grus, fire coursing through his veins.

"Magic is just a skill," Grus said. "It doesn't make you anything."

"I wasn't only talking about the damned magic! I have no memories, no idea who I am!"

"I know," Grus said. "Please, just try and sleep on it. Things may look better in the morning."

***

Dark wandered through his dreams, smooth fragments of strange worlds, finally catching hold of a small fragment of memory.

"You can't do this!"

"It's already done…"

Grus stood over him, one foot pressed against his stomach. A inky black blob surged from the ground, and crept up his body like ivy. An icy chill filled his bones, and a piercing scream echoed around. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the yell was coming from his own mouth.

Dark sat up, his voice dying away in the red desert dawn. He scrambled to his feet, and whirled around the campsite, before picking up a long piece of lizard bone and stomping through the burned out fire. Dark knew he should escape into the desert, away from Grus and danger, but he gripped the bone tighter and continued to walk.

"Grus!"

He found the man standing next to the lake, holding a dripping water skin. Grus dropped the sack and backed away. Dark raced towards him, but Grus turned around and ran into a copse of thick brown vines that surrounded the oasis.

The vines towered over Dark like trees, bending and waving and obscuring Grus from his sight. He ran onward, pushing his way through the smaller hanging tendrils, catching glimpses of movement ahead.

He smacked into Grus and stumbled backwards, and smacked into the ground like a falling boulder, the piece of bone slipping from his grasp. Grus stood over him, foot firmly planted into his chest.

"You need to calm down," he said. "I don't want to hurt you, but -"

"I know what you did to me," Dark growled.

"It needed to be done," Grus said.

Dark grabbed Grus' foot and twisted it to the side, sprung up with all the strength he could muster. Grus lost his balance and sprung on Dark, gripping his neck and pulling them both down.

Dark pulled at Grus' fingers, but could not pry them loose. He gasped, reddened pain seeping into his throat and face. His strength gave way and he fell to his knees. The edges of his thoughts grew cloudy and slowly started to creep towards the center of his mind. He let himself fall to the ground, as if he had already succumbed to death. The bone tickled his fingers, and he inched his hand until it was resting on top of it.

"Dark?"

The pressure on his neck subsided and he felt Grus gently shake his shoulders. He gasped for breath and thrust the bone upwards.

Grus staggered back, the bone protruding from his chest. His eyes widened and he gripped the object, sitting down with a thud. Dark bent down and wrenched the bone free, letting loose a river of blood from the wound.

"I would never have hurt you," Grus sputtered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh really," Dark wheezed, glaring at Grus. "Then why did you attack me? Why did you drain me of my magic and memories? I know who you are…Sephia."

Grus lifted his head up and stared at Dark, the tears falling freely.

"I'm not Sephia," he said. "You are."

***

Dark set a large boulder on the mound of rock and sand. He took a piece of charred ash from his pocket and scratched Grus' name into the front. Memories trickled into mind, mixing with the heat and causing him to swagger.

"I'm sorry," Dark said, wiping at his eyes, as he stared at the grave of the one person he swore to never hurt, the only person left in the world who saw him as he was. "Goodbye little brother."

He headed over to the lake and knelt down next to Grus' water skin and bag. He lifted the bag's flap and rooted around, finding a small blade and a red book filled with detailed sketches of desert vegetation.

Dark wiped the tears from his eyes and put the book back into the bag. He slung it over his shoulder and picked up the skin, a sloshing sound coming from within. He dropped the skin into the bag and closed the flap back over, then looked out over the lake.

The sun was low in the sky, and the sounds of wildlife filled the oasis. A pair of sapphire plumed birds broke the surface of the lake, and a long silver fish leapt in giant arches through the air. Dark took a deep breath of the semi-moist air, and then started to walk.