《Endless Dream》 Prologue In a vast, empty space was an island, perfectly cut into a mile long slab. On it lied a ruined palace, its once high walls now pillars and barricades, and its once forbidden secrets revealed by the fallen ceiling. Looking down revealed many broken rooms, all in disrepair save for a single, wide hall. An unblemished red carpet draped through the center of the long hall, leading those of a bygone age to an archaic throne, in which sat a once resplendent figure. Now that figure looked deathly and grave, yet he still sat upon the throne. The figure faced straight; his eyes closed, yet his gaze was watching, his chin resting on his fist, yet impatience filled the air, his injuries numerous, yet his heart pumped with vitality and vigor. Each beat shook the island, the rhythm tearing through the endless void. His eyes began to crack, brow furrow, fist clenching, armor shaking. The palace began to hum, veins of glowing runes snaking across the endless rubble. The darkness of the void began to part, like a mist lifting and the lonely island revealed to be one of many. Then all stopped, as if waiting on edge. A hoarse breath finally parted through his lips, his chest began to shift, and the world resumed. He would wake soon, and then the world would remember its Sovereign.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Chapter 1.0-Beginning Fires dazed in stupor, smoke dancing with the blood that was tossed into the air, and then darkness. A face emerged, its features illuminating the void. The face cackled and stretched into a mess of wrinkles, spit flying with every laugh laden breath. Within its eyes was the virgin starry sky, and all the world began to crumble. The wrinkles began to split into valleys, spit into rivers. Yet all mattered not, as the starry eyes bled across the canvas and consumed everything. A beautiful starry sky on all sides, tranquil and quiet. . . Then the beating of a drum, first a touch, then a tap, and then a thunderclap. He awoke in hot sweat, his heavy breathing obscuring the cicadas buzzing in the distance. His body otherwise frozen, leaving his eyes to wander across the wooden ceiling. Time passed. His fingers began to clench at the heavy blanket covering him, his legs writhed against the straw bedding underneath him. Finally, he shot up, his breathing stabilized leaving the sounds of insects to reach their crescendo. It was then he realized a profound emptiness. His thoughts were disordered and his body felt out of place. It felt as if he had been born on the bed, as he could remember nothing else besides this current moment. Empty, that''s all he could call upon or feel in both body and mind. And then, as if a drum had been struck, the feeling set in and he began to scramble. The hide blanket flew away and the bed began to tip; his foot hooked against the wooden wall and he pushed, launching himself away from it. With a thump he crashed into the ground, and lay still on the dirt floor. Having no reason to get up he stayed that way. A dull pain, and a strange bubbling sensation was all he could feel. Suddenly, his disturbed gaze became clear. A warm comfort arose from the bubbly feeling, like a mother''s arms wrapping around him. He lay frozen till it subsided. When he finally sat up, an hour had passed and with it the feelings of emptiness and pain. A desolate cabin with the only source of light crippled by a single pair of wooden shutters. Still, a few objects immediately caught his notice: A chest, a fireplace, a door, and of course the bed he was on before. At least it was still bright out; there was yet something for him to do.He looked down at his unfamiliar hands, an uncanny feeling. They were soft and supple, his arms and naked body seemed the same. His hands soon came up to his face, rubbing against his pudgy features. He shuffled aside his long black hair, to rub against his forehead, cold. His fingers snapped back in surprise of the sensation, yet he curiously traced back towards it again. There it was, a single point on his forehead. A strange feeling of connection and possession welled up inside of him. His mind lingered on the spot, before it looked elsewhere. He began to search the cabin meticulously. The cabin was filled with junk, but to his empty stomach¡¯s disappointment there was not an ounce of food.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Yet that did not mean he turned up nothing. His once uncovered figure was now wrapped in an old hemp tunic, cut to fit his smaller size. His feet were equipped with oversized straw sandals. Over his shoulder was a hemp strap, that led down to a worn bag, containing straps of cloth and leather. In his right hand was his greatest find, a small, dull knife. Most peculiarly, he had covered his forehead with a rag. For some reason he felt highly protective of the strange cold spot; it was his secret and his alone. Now equipped for adventure, he walked towards the door with heavy anticipation. A rotting smell tickled his nose as soon as he neared the door. Dismissing the smell, he pushed open the door, it¡¯s broken lock offering no resistance. A bright light shone through the doorway, revealing the vast forest around him and blinding him for a moment; while a thick pungent smell of rot assaulted his nose. He dazedly turned towards the source of the smell; upon notice, he vomited onto the ground. His gaze slowly turned upwards, aiming back towards the object; his stomach immediately wrenched on sight of it. Flies surrounded a mutilated corpse, it''s wretched stench an invasion to the wilderness. The corpse was heavily desecrated with an unnatural withering and grisly lacerations blanketing. The face was indistinguishable, with only its untouched hide clothes giving some semblance as to what it was. His guess was that the corpse belonged to the hunter who once lived in the cabin. The thought settled in and the boy¡¯s heart froze, he slowly moved away from both the cabin and the body. Confusion and horror began to burn away at every other emotion. What followed was a mad sprint. When he had come back to his senses, he was out of breath and could no longer see the cabin. Surrounding him now was an overgrown forest, with only one path to follow. Yet in the midst of the heavy wilderness, he had failed to notice a floating eye trailing his presence. Chapter 1.1: Beginning Unbeknownst to the boy, a glaring red, floating eye had been trailing him. Its salivating stare had been closely observing the boy from the secrecy of the forest. From when the boy had first started running in panic, to his now tired walk. The pace that the boy was walking didn¡¯t matter much, as long as he was headed in the right direction! The naked, floating eye squirmed in excitement. These thoughts remained foreign to the boy, as he continued to plod along the forest path. His shallow breathing and weak steps, reflected a different concern for him. After his panic and sprint, he suddenly felt far more exhausted than he should be, added onto that was the feeling of creeping cold. It didn¡¯t help that the air was becoming thick with smoke, making it hard to breathe. But as soon those thoughts and worries appeared, they drifted away. The boy''s gait gradually became more outlandish, as if he was on the verge of falling asleep mid step. Still, his legs continued to stamp into the ground with great effort and drag him forward. Finally, his body became too heavy, and his torturous walk stopped. He became still like a statue as darkness filled his vision.. The floating eye stopped midair, its red pupil seemingly squinting in frustration. While it had noticed the boy¡¯s growing weakness, it was still frustrating to see that the boy had actually fainted. It seemed that some people didn¡¯t even have the manners to serve themselves up. Still at least it was easy food¡­ Meanwhile, in the ruins of a city, a dozen shady individuals sat on the bare ground of a clearing that could hardly be called a camp. Each individual sat with their eyes closed and muttered gravelly words. This, along with the circle they had formed around a cast iron pot, revealed the undertakings of an esoteric and sinful ritual. Yet they did little to hide their brazenness, as their chants only grew louder and continued to draw in a haze of mist like substance into the pot. Their mutterings began to speed up, till the climax arrived and the mist began to congeal into a murky liquid. One of the individual¡¯s faces smirked imperceptibly, his focus skipping from the ritual at hand to the vision of one of his familiars. A moment later, the image of a fallen boy flashed through the man¡¯s mind. What his brazen eye familiar failed to notice, he had seen. In surprise, of what the fainted boy was his tongue slipped. What followed was a loud bang and a shockwave of dust. The congealed maze quickly dispersed into nothingness, leaving the pot empty. The ritualists all opened their eyes, with either rage or suprise. Yet the man who had erred cared little. He gave a sharp glance to all onlookers, leaving them to swallow their rage. However, a young woman, opposite from the man, could not hide her temper and gave a coarse shriek. ¡°Damn it, Old Li! You think I wouldn¡¯t dare to kill you!¡± she screamed while pointing a finger at the man. Now standing up, her gaze shifted from anger to disgust. The man scoffed, before boldly standing up as well. His disheveled figure fully revealed itself. Long gray, unkempt hair reached down his shoulders and a scratchy beard covered his wrinkled face. Wild hides and ornaments covered his scrawny body, accentuating his lecherous eyes and rancid stench. Few would know that this man¡¯s arrogance and pride stood taller than mountain! The man furiously shouted, ¡°How can I, the Great Demon Li, stand for such disrespect?!¡± His voice raised further, ¡°What does it matter, if the ritual failing was my fault? You whore! Daring to speak to me in such a manner!¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. He dashed forward with superhuman agility, his distaste was far from being quenched. It only took a moment for him to reach the woman, and only another moment for his palm to shoot towards the woman¡¯s chest. The woman responded, tilting backwards and swiping at the man with a now revealed, curved dagger. The man continued his strike undauntingly, his palm a mere hair away from striking its target. All the while, the woman''s dagger similarly continued on its path towards the man¡¯s chest, a sharp gleam appeared on the dagger revealing that it was far more than met the eye. The wind screamed in conflict, and then a grunt sounded; A second later a crash. The woman lied, sprawled across a pile of rubble. She spat out a mouthful of blood, her right hand instinctively moved to conceal her injured left shoulder. However such a cover could not hide the unnatural frost that began to spread from the injury. In the end, the palm had only glanced off her shoulder, but she still was launched like a kite without string. The old man¡¯s powerful strike reaffirmed the decision of many of the spectators, Old Li was not to be provoked! Old Li watched the pitiful woman for only a moment before diverting his attention from the scene. He slowly looked down to find a tiny cut on his now bare upper chest. As if on queue, inordinate amounts of blood spurted out from the tiny cut as it slowly grew in size and bled into his wild clothing. The old man collapsed onto his knees with a grunt, covering the wound with his hands, his gaze shifting from indifference to fury. The spectators watched with bated breaths. This was not the result they had expected. The old man, feeling the eyes on him, forcefully stood back up. His pride would not allow him to take such a blow. Then with the smile of a showman, he slowly revealed his chest as he stretched both hands outward, revealing the grievous wound to the spectators. Only that, it was no longer mortal, instead the wound was staunched by a thin coating of bloodied ice and frost. Old Li¡¯s hideous grin grew in size, yellow teeth and all, before he began to lazily meander towards the woman. His slow steps counted on each other, the man was only a dozen steps away now yet the once furious woman looked hopeless and defeated. Afterall, the frost was now spreading across her chest and so it seemed that it wouldn¡¯t be long before she froze to death. The old man gave a ragged laugh upon seeing her pitiful appearance. His satisfaction only diminished by the fact that her head was still attached. His eyes gleamed red with immeasurable insanity, as he continued his slow walk towards the woman. He did not notice the woman¡¯s slight smile. The man¡¯s heavy steps continued, he was only three steps away. And then, the woman¡¯s limpid eyes suddenly sharpened, she pounced! Her seemingly injured left arm arced towards the man¡¯s face. Old Li expression of madness did not change. He still had time to dodge, yet perhaps his insanity had already robbed him of any reason as his palm snapped forward. The spectators held their breaths, some getting ready to jump in for a grab of the spoils. The climax approached, not even a moment could divide the inevitable contact. The expected boom sounded, but the result betrayed all expectations. As if an invisible wall was between the combatants, both their blows had stopped midair. The spectators watched in surprise and disappointment, hoping that perhaps something more would happen. A sly cough sounded, redirecting their attention from the entertainment at hand. One of the spectators, an over decorated man with a flowery appearance, stepped out. He was the source of the interruption. ¡°Ay, ay. Let''s just finish this ritual and be done with it, fight all you want afterwards,¡± he said with a soft voice that belied his gender, all the while calmly fanning himself. He abruptly shut his fan, and the invisible barrier between the combatants disappeared. Both combatants backed away from each other with a jump, and stared at the flowery man with fury. Conflict choked the air, but in an instant the pressure dissipated. The old man snorted as he promptly disengaged and began walking away from the camp. His red eyes dulled to their original dark color, and his posture once again became slouched. The spectators¡¯ gazes settled on the woman, waiting for her reaction. To their disappointment, she simply turned her head in indifference and left camp in the opposite direction. It seemed like both the ritual and entertainment would have to wait, not that anyone was in a hurry. There were plenty of things to plunder in this ruined city. Little did they know, Old Li also had plunder on his mind. Chapter 1.2: Beginning Old Li, now outside of the ruins, was joyfully strolling on a forest path; his slow movements did little to hide his speed, as with each step he would launch himself a few feet forward. He would occasionally close one eye and look through the vision of his red eyed familiar to confirm that the fallen boy had remained. Old Li¡¯s grin grew more garish with every look. Originally, the boy was a simple meal he had chanced upon, but he quickly realized how wrong he was. This was a holder of a pure soul! Normal souls, while growing the power of any demon, would give rise to impurities. However, pure souls were like ambrosia. Not only would such a soul wash away any impurities he had but it would also consolidate his foundation. If he had not found something to offset his growing insanity, then he wouldn¡¯t have lasted much longer! Perhaps this is what the scholars meant when they said ,¡°finding a treasure when most needed!¡± He gave a ragged laugh. While the others were scrambling for filthy souls in the ruins and performing rituals to purify them, he had found something worth so much more! The boy was so precious that if he had walked into camp, like Old Li originally intended, then the other demons would quickly abandon any pretense of cooperation and a blood battle would ensue. He truly was lucky that the boy fell over early! Old Li smiled, his own eyes had finally caught sight of the boy. His feet skidded on the dirt path for a few moments before he came to a final stop, inches away from the boy¡¯s body. With a wave of his hand he sent the eye that was dutifully floating above the boy to scout the surroundings - all the while his mouth watered. This treasure would soon be his and then he would teach that whore a lesson! His mouth opened to give a laugh, but before he could the color red filled his vision. He tried to speak or yell, yet all that came out was spit. Then everything turned black. Yet his last thoughts, surprisingly, were of liberation and comfort¡­ The man pulled his spear out of the decrepit demon¡¯s skull. With a quick whip of his arm, his bloodied weapon became clean. What was left of Old Li, was now a dead body surrounded by blood and brain matter. However the man had no disrespect in his mind, he quickly knelt down, mixing his worn robes with the dirt, and put his hands together in prayer. No words were uttered, yet a moment later there was a brief flash of many colors. It had lasted only for a moment, but what was seen was the souls of many being released into the afterlife. The man inhaled a deep breath and as if on queue, the woman who had been trailing Old Li, made her move. She swung her magical dagger towards the back of the man¡¯s skull. The man made no movements and let the dagger move unhindered, till finally it struck. Yet there was no blood, viscera, or even the ripping of flesh; the dagger simply passed right through. The would be assassin knew that she had erred, and not just with this engagement. She had underestimated the man, even after only realizing his presence after Old Li died. She could blame the fact that her target was Old Li from the start, but errors like this caused death. But neither Old Li or the man mattered anymore, ever since she saw the boy, she knew that it was the real gem of this engagement. If she could simply get that boy¡¯s soul, the tables would be turned! Her legs shifted, as to lunge towards the child, however, her plans were cut short. A firm hand grasped the back of her skull and locked her in place. The hand slammed downwards with a swift motion. The earth was the last thing she saw. The man exhaled and removed his clean hand from the crushed skull beneath it. He then knelt down and put his hands together. Once more there was a flash of colors and the departure of souls. In just brief moments, two great demons, Old Li and the one who had provoked him, were now dead. The man stood up and stared at the bodies. For a brief moment there was pity and sadness in his eyes; those feelings were replaced by resolve. He walked towards the boy who lay fainted on the ground, an unexpected factor in his engagement with the demons. He knelt down and checked the boy''s pulse. His diagnosis? not beating, still alive, yet it revealed something far more disturbing. Immediately, a hundred actions and plans flit through his mind; what remained was a look of true pity and sadness. He sat there, his knees digging into the dirt as he stood frozen. His palm neared the boy¡¯s skull and stopped above it. Part of him wondered whether he should kill the boy now, before he walked down the path. All it would take was a push, and then the child could pass onto his next life. The child would suffer less, and so would the world. There is still a chance right now, but in the future¡­ The man¡¯s thoughts argued for action but in the end his hand moved away. He could not do it. Minutes of indecision passed, all the while the man simply stared, till finally his glare once again turned into one of resolve. He lifted the boy from the ground onto his shoulders. He then stood up and picked up his spear. As soon as he did, the elegant spear dulled and became gnarled, till it was identical to an old walking stick. The man then walked down the forest path. His destination was the ruins of the city; there were still more demons to vanquish. When he arrived at the ruined city, hell once again descended on it. Many demons died some while fleeing, most while fighting. Yet by nightfall all conflict had ended and the man had already knelt into prayer. Perhaps if there were others to see, they would see the beautiful colors of starlight moving onto their next life, but there was only a fainted boy and a pious man. Days passed and the boy remained asleep. The diagnosis also remained. What disturbed the man further, was that the boy looked no worse after days in this state. Seeing this, the man left the boy in a still standing house and instead dedicated himself to digging graves and giving rites of passage. Those who heard the news of the siege and the ruined city eventually came as well. Some helped, some mourned, most looked for possessions. A week passed, the smoke had finally been quenched by harsh rains and time. The activities of those in the ruins remained the same, yet fewer came and more left. The man soon concluded his activities as well. While there was still more to do, he had to leave. He uncovered the fainted boy from the desolate house and placed the child into a handwagon, the only possession he took from the ruins. He had no one to bid farewell to nor anyone to care, but he was used to it so his leave was as quick as expected. Time passed, few crossed roads with the man. Those who did either felt instinctual disgust or fear when seeing the man and gave no words, only a hastened pace. The man seemed to care little. He travelled without rest or meals for days, yet he looked no worse for wear. The wagon fell apart however, so he then carried the boy on his back; noting that the diagnosis was the same. No pulse, still alive¡­ The journey continued on, they passed many people and many landmarks. The man however, avoided all villages and settlements. Two weeks of travel later, with the boy still fainted, the man turned away from the road and entered the wilderness. The forest did not obstruct him, nor did the eventual climb as he steadily went up towards the mountain. He kept climbing till the trees became sparse and the boulders became more present. Hours into his climb, he finally stopped. Ahead of him was a large stone wall, sealing off what seemed to be the mouth of a cave. As if there was nothing in front of him, the man simply walked through it, revealing a flushed stone interior inside with only a stone bed, and a straw mat. Along the ceiling were various runic lights, that gave a soft glow over the small, lonely room. The man went ahead and placed the boy on the slab, before sitting on the worn mat and meditating. A moment later, various multicolored runes pooled around the boy; it seemed that it would take some time before the boy¡¯s diagnosis was erased.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The boy awoke with his eyes closed and his body brimming with warmth. He was lying on soft air, floating and attached to nothing. He felt a great bliss and reverie; the warmth and comfort only grew. It was truly a wonderful state, with no end and no beginning; however, as soon as that thought arrived an end came. His eyes snapped open and he awoke¡­ There he was, lying on a cold, hard surface. He tried to look around only to be blinded by the shimmering glow around him. A stale, clean smell tickled his nose; then his stomach wrenched. He felt empty, weak, and cold. There was no warmth or bliss, simply destitution. As if someone was watching in pity, the lights immediately dimmed down; he now noticed the soft blue lights scattered above him. Looking around, he then saw how small of a place he was in. A mostly dark room with faded edges, no furniture. It was what he imagined the inside of a tomb to be, but it lacked the treasures or any trace of opulence. Still, tomb or not, it wasn¡¯t where he wanted to die. He grunted, and ungracefully tilted off the stone surface; his legs swung down lifelessly and touched the hard, smooth floor. As his body slipped down and weight was put on his legs, a series of pops went through his body and he grimaced in pain. He let out a breath, simultaneously letting go of the stone platform and placing all weight on his legs; instantly a shock ran from his left big toe to the rest of his body. He stopped; unknowingly, a thick coat of oily sweat was already covering him. It felt like he was already drained of any energy, weak and lifeless. He felt dizzy, his eyes gazed downwards, and his legs were shaking, but he still felt resolve; For some reason, he just couldn¡¯t find it in himself to stop and rest. He tilted his head back up in an effort to move forward, only to be cut short by his own yelp of surprise. Ahead of him was a figure, illuminated from the darkness like a snake. The figure emanated dread, distaste, fear, callousness; the list of evil things went on but the boy couldn¡¯t help but see what it really was. A tired, old man in an even older black monastic robe. Yet the contradiction of a peaceful old man was quickly destroyed when he spoke. ¡°Sit, save your strength.¡± he said with a tone of derision and fury, his image appearing as a great beast. The boy, already somewhat frightened by the man¡¯s sudden appearance, disregarded the pain and intuitively sat down. The man sighed with a hateful indifference. He glared at the boy for a few moments before speaking with his evil tone once more, ¡°It¡¯s good that you¡¯ve awakened. Just rest for a bit... I¡¯ll be back soon.¡± And so the man disappeared into the darkness. The boy could only imagine he was being taunted, or this monstrous person was gone to prepare some spices to stew him with. He knew he had to get out of this place, but he also had to play it safe. His intuition told him that if he made one wrong move, he¡¯d lose all chance of escape. So, the boy waited and listened to the silence. There was nothing, only the occasional hum of the magical symbols. Minutes more passed with the same sounds creating a background silence. He could only assume that the man was gone but his body still shivered in fear. However, before his fear could stop action, a bubbling sensation wrapped around him like a blanket of comfort. Bravery welled from within, and the boy made the decision. Jolts shook through the boy¡¯s limbs as he began to get up. The feeling was far more disturbing than painful, but focusing on the feeling would have to wait. The boy pushed himself up. Surprisingly, the exhaustion was much lesser this time and he was able to limp across the room, albeit with some effort. It was still somewhat dark, but he was able to find his way around the room sized box through touch. It really did seem to just be a stone box. Stone floor, stone walls, stone ceiling and all the while there seemed to be no exit, windows, or anything that led outside. The only things he found besides the stone slab, which he was lying on before, were the various engraved symbols around the enclosure, and an ordinary straw mat. He noticed that there were two types of symbols. A type that glowed, which he could easily notice, and a type that didn¡¯t, which he could only find through touch. After brushing his fingers across the inactive engravings once more, he confirmed that both had similar structures. His only hope was that one of the inactive symbols could open a passageway of some sort. The issue was he knew nothing of these engravings or even magic. How these things glowed or what they did eluded him entirely, what eluded him further was how he ended up being captured by some demonic sorcerer. Still, he continued to look through each inch of the box; it wasn¡¯t long till the same heavy exhaustion started to hit him again, and then, a jolt of pain arced through his spine. His thoughts became hazy and he blacked out. Moments later, when he regained awareness, his palms were pushed against the wall and his legs were shaking uncontrollably. Once again, a bubbling feeling arose but this time it wrapped him in a blanket of strength. He immediately pushed away from the wall with a newfound strength, till all weight was on his feet once more. With a scoff, he began to search around more. Part of him felt it was hopeless, but he simply knew that he couldn¡¯t give up. The last time he had woken up, he knew nothing of what was going on. Now he knew even less. If he kept on falling further, he would never get a grip of this madness around him. His thoughts focused around the inactive runes that littered the walls. There had to be some way to use them, afterall, the old man had to have left somehow. He intuitively reached back towards the wall and rested his hand on an engraving made of curved lines and sharp segmentations. If he could just reach out and use it, any of the runes for that matter¡­ Unknowingly, his mind began to clear and his thoughts focused; like a spear, his intention struck the rune. His focus snapped back to himself, still unsure of what had just happened. What he had just done didn¡¯t feel like a slight fancy; it seemed like the right thing to do, even if he didn¡¯t quite understand why he had done it¡­ His expectant eyes were suddenly blinded and he was sent reeling back. His feet slipped and he fell onto the stone ground. Luckily, he barely managed to catch himself, but not so luckily, he felt extremely cold. He fainted shortly after. The man was picking through the forest, his mind clear like spring water. But occasionally, as he picked away at the ground, he felt an unbearable loneliness. He wondered if there was ever an end, if it was all worth it, and how things could have been different¡­ He noticed the train of thoughts and cleared his mind; his breath only stopping for a moment to do so. He then counted through the herbs he had picked and set back towards the mountain. It only took an hour for him to go up, courtesy of the pleasant weather. The boy would likely enjoy the fresh air. He arrived at the stone door, and simply walked through it. Once inside, he noticed that every rune he had placed was brimming with magic. He shuddered, his eyes immediately finding the boy fainted on the ground, with a pale countenance. He carefully lifted up the boy, and quickly placed him onto the stone slab. He closed his eyes and reached out into his surroundings, immediately all the runes dimmed. He then focused back towards the stone slab. The runes on it lit up once more in a bright array of colors. He looked back down at the herbs he had collected and placed them at the foot of the slab. He already knew that the boy only saw him as something vile, but it didn¡¯t make him feel any less dejected. He began to move back towards his meditation mat, yet he stopped only steps away. A staredown between him and the mat commenced. He knew what he had to do, but instead he turned away and looked back towards the boy on the stone slab. The boy¡¯s pale skin was returning back to its warm color. With that, he sat down, still away from the meditation mat. He looked down at his own hands. They were both covered in scars and calluses. He stayed looking down, memories of the past flitting away; his thoughts lingered on an open field, small houses and fences littered across it. At the end of every month they wou-. Then he caught himself and once more stopped his breath to clear his mind. He leaned back onto the stone floor and stared at the blue lights on the ceiling, till eventually his eyes drooped and for once in a long time, he fell into slumber.