All that it knows, is, was, has reduced to a sudden and confusing absence. It had a name, once. A history. A belonging. A sense of self snuffed out with distant shaking of the ground. Of being buried in the mud only to be taken out and washed up, stored away, in a panic it couldn't understand. Of the shadow of birds passing in the dead of night. Of noise. Of red. Of heat. Of a slow, dripping, wa r p i n g l o s s. . . .
.
.
.
The call that comes feels sudden, in the midst of all that is left. A candle lit in a void of nothing physical, a request made with fire and steel and a pull of energy into the realm of the spiritual. Ah... that's something to follow, isn't it? Maybe, maybe not. But it's bright, and beckoning.
It reaches out, and answers.
A heart pounds for the first time. The taste of sweat lingers, the sensation of fingers stretching out like an opening flower, a chest filling with a first exhaling gasp of air.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Welcome home.
Open your eyes.
...
It doesn't recognize this place. The room it now occupies. The sensation, the weight to its left. It flexes a hand, feels the heaviness of the polearm, and brown eyes flick to the blade.
...Ah. There it is.
There... he is.
His voice stays caught in his throat, letting the wave of new sensations settle. He feels... strange. Hot. Unsteady. The sweat feels thick. But his eyes still land on the lone human in the room with him. The one who called for him, perhaps. Would that make them...]
...Aruji. [Master. His brows tighten slightly with a tilt of his head.] Is... that right?
for saniwa
All that it knows, is, was, has reduced to a sudden and confusing absence. It had a name, once. A history. A belonging. A sense of self snuffed out with distant shaking of the ground. Of being buried in the mud only to be taken out and washed up, stored away, in a panic it couldn't understand. Of the shadow of birds passing in the dead of night. Of noise. Of red. Of heat. Of a slow, dripping, wa r p i n g l o s s. . . .
.
.
.
The call that comes feels sudden, in the midst of all that is left. A candle lit in a void of nothing physical, a request made with fire and steel and a pull of energy into the realm of the spiritual. Ah... that's something to follow, isn't it? Maybe, maybe not. But it's bright, and beckoning.
It reaches out, and answers.
A heart pounds for the first time. The taste of sweat lingers, the sensation of fingers stretching out like an opening flower, a chest filling with a first exhaling gasp of air.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Welcome home.
Open your eyes.
...
It doesn't recognize this place. The room it now occupies. The sensation, the weight to its left. It flexes a hand, feels the heaviness of the polearm, and brown eyes flick to the blade.
...Ah. There it is.
There... he is.
His voice stays caught in his throat, letting the wave of new sensations settle. He feels... strange. Hot. Unsteady. The sweat feels thick. But his eyes still land on the lone human in the room with him. The one who called for him, perhaps. Would that make them...]
...Aruji. [Master. His brows tighten slightly with a tilt of his head.] Is... that right?