somebody shine a light
I'm frozen by the fear in me

The world was empty.

The summer sun was dying in a vibrant splendor, deep burnished orange and blood red shimmering through every part of the world—long spears of bronze sunlight arced along the shore, reflected in every pool of water, in the still, eternal horizon. Blood washed the world, fell upon it, baptized it, and Mauja stood in the midst of it, motionless. Emotionless. The sunset was beautiful, breathtaking even in this mirror stretching from one edge of the world to another, but—but not to him.

Because the world was empty.

Because, and he hated himself for it, it felt like he had lost everything. And what hadn't he lost? Roskuld. Tembovu, unless the giant was going to hate him for running out on his duties to mourn.

What fucking else did he have?

Psyche was dead, Kou was dead, d'Artagnan had left, Aviya was dead, Snö was dead, gods knew where Tamlin and Sielu were, or where Kahlua was—

So what he had left was Glacia and Roskuld and Tembovu, then, unless he went further into his past and started looking for ghosts like Lena, re-kindled his ties with Deimos, maybe Roland was still around...

—Naerys.

He sighed, a sound so devoid of hope, and lowered his muzzle to the ground. His reflection stared back at him with a maroon sky touched with the first hints of purple behind it. Was it right of him, to have forsaken his duties at the Edge? To have left it entirely?

But to go there again—

When every shadow screamed of Snö—

Slow, silent tears pooled in his eyes. Slow, silent tears slid down his cheeks, shimmering faintly in the fading light. This was what he had feared all the time: the inevitable reveal that Mauja wasn't good enough. Wasn't strong enough. That he couldn't save anyone. That he couldn't protect anyone. That he couldn't go on anymore.

Kahlua had believed in him, and he had tried, but without her his faith had crumbled, and now it lay shattered on the floor along with his glass heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered, to Naerys in particular, even though she wasn't there. He had left the Riptide Isles and the funeral pyre of his daughter, he had left the throng of Helovians hurt and bleeding and braying for attention in a world that longed for silence—for all to turn to quiet glass humming with only the slightest, purest resonance. He had left the scene of his latest heartbreak and fled back to where the Sun had battled a crocodile, where fire had rained and a black mare had died to leave her child an orphan.

What had the Gods wanted of them? What had they hoped to achieve? Were they happy now, with what they had wrought? Were they proud?

Sobbing, Mauja fell to his white knees in the crimson light, head bowed in a defeat more complete and profound than he had ever felt before.

[ @Dacianna ]

somebody make me feel alive
and shatter me