Rust stained all of her clothing. Thoran wandered through the junk of the dumping grounds, a sheaf of writing clutched loosely in her numb hands. Chilly winds gusted suddenly, blowing papers around in a dust devil. As they drifted back down she noticed an unusual person wandering through the cast-offs, mimicking her halted steps. She approached the gleaming figure until her legs buckled, casting her to the ground in a paroxysm of pain and nausea.

After the first 5 miles I couldn't feel my feet... (it was better this way) I didn't have to feel the skin being ripped off the soles. The brand on my forehead was another matter, though. It seared and burned endlessly as I wandered around the wilderness in a stupor. (Perhaps this would be it, the final days of my life..) notice, the sky went black. (How long had I been wandering? What fateful time had passed since I met the white one?) I trudged onwards into the mist.

My forehead hurt. A lot. I wanted to bash it against some rocks to overwhelm my body with pain, (something bearable) The brand was still there, seeping blood at every dawn. By the fourth day I made it back to my house on the edge of town. It was ransacked a few years ago, your basic squat. A vision stopped me at the town fence suddenly. Heat mirages distorted the faces of a crowd, gathered at the town boundary line. "You can't return," someone called. "We got your things together." A tattered bag slid to a stop at my feet. "Go."

Lith awoke to find himself in a grey room locked in place by unseen bonds. Most of what he could see was the profile of one of his friends, trapped in the unusual restraints. A figure in front of him acknowledged Lith's presence, but had the same fixed stare, off into the distance. Glancing around, he saw tracks (perhaps blood?) on the floor. Others were locked in similar fashions. Time passed, the bonds did not bother. He would forget about them as his mind wandered off (inevitable) in blissful silence.

Thoran picked up the bag that lay at her feet, dusty. The fools that kept me away didn't matter anymore.. more pressing issues had arisen. (That bastard in white had to pay, I was going to hand him his head on a silver platter.) Turning away, she flicked her wrist. Townspeople were struck down by flames, writhing in agony. Walking on, her calves started bleeding, leaving a ruddy trail beside marred footprints. The brand on her forehead burnt, blinding. Thoran fell over in a paroxysm of pain, eyes engulfed in white light. It was starting to happen again.

THIS (you push them away so you won't get hurt) ISN'T (no one really cares, you know, it's all just a ploy to make you feel better) HAPPENING (this is all a cruel joke, and you're at the brunt of it, babe.. just let it slide down and we'll take the rest of what you hold so dear) Again..... (love is pain, pain is better than a void of nothingness, so hurt yourself and get over it, wimp)

I made my mental farewells to the people left behind in my dash away from the inferno and dust. The periods of light only came by once in a while, and afterwards I felt useless and ashamed... (I've survived them this far though.. I can make it (hopefully) through the future attack.) I have never taken things in moderately, it's all or nothing, as is evident by my current state. She trudged on into the heat, the tattered bag of her old world slung over a shoulder. Perhaps this hunt will bring it all down, an end. Ends are needed.

Exhausted, Thoran dropped her bag in the dust as night fell. (Perhaps the unthinkable would happen, I'd not have to search anymore. I could just go on with the rest of my life and this would all turn to water underneath the bridge.) The sky clouded over in the dusk. Rainfall. She found an outcropping of rock to weather out the storm as rills of dust were washed away from her bloodied skin, pooling at scarred feet. The rain lulled her to sleep, soothing the wounds. A figure dimly approached the outcropping.

Thoran sighed, not knowing what to do. (don't even know what's wrong, don't know how to fix it)

Lith decided to take pity on the poor girl... Seeing her curled up in the mud made him reconsider. (Granted, I'm still the same Endless entity as I was before...once in a while you feel the need to help these mortals out instead of tormenting them.) She reached up and touched his face as tears rolled down. (Why was I crying? I think I might have gone too far.) Lith carried her away. (To a new life?). "No... I'm not Death.. not even close. If you look closely I still have marks of wings. We never fell.. we just left."

Thoran awoke to the rhythm of footfalls. Her head was cast into darkness. A void encompassed her as she stared into a blackened sky, waiting for fiery cinders drift up on the wind like fireflies. (Frailty of flesh. Strength of mind. The mind is willing, flesh is not but weak. Can you see the light? Honestly? Or is it just a glimmer, some random reflection from the passing cars. It's easy to mistake glassiness or glazed eyes for intelligence or liveliness. Child's toy, cars.... cinders and sinking trees. Floating myself through the world. Drop the keys, and reflect in the wind.)

(Don't let yourself get involved, Lith... It's not worth the pain and what else could you really do.) Nothing. This became my mantra as I hefted the scarred girl in my arms across the wastelands. Try to detach yourself, man.. that's the only way. She muttered in her delirium about will and sacrifice... Hushed tones of supplication as I bore her along. She was slipping away, perhaps it was a defensive mechanism or just the way things were leading. Whatever it was it had clipped her tongue, all the things uttered were half thoughts, jumbled. Poor girl. Perhaps she's better dead.

"Hhhh.. how? I don't understand?" Thoran wept into the embrace of Lith, realizing her futility. (why didn't he just kill me? or left me to rot... why did he even touch me? just.. please.. leave if nothing changes I can't keep doing this) Attempting to walk, Thoran struggled from the white-clad Lith, her legs finally carrying her along. She wandered out into the night as he sat behind, bleakly watching her weave between the trees. Sightless, Thoran fell into the dark, striking her head on an oddly placed rock, covered in bloodied runes. More blood coursed warmly over the ancient markings, glowing oddly in the descending darkness. Lith loomed over the body and muttered.