"LOCHAN?" the haruspex called into the dark, his black eyes widening and his whites showing in fear. But he could hear nothing, not even his own hoofbeats. There was nothing but the howling wind and the whirling of leaves as they swirled and stuck to his rainsoaked pelt. He made it to shelter, but it was too late.
If this could even be called shelter. What sort of shelter was an endless maze? What sort of shelter was the grave of a god?
No, Ashamin had not forgotten that battle. It would be a very long, long time before he could forget it. Perhaps he would never forget. He was plagued with memory just as he was plagued with loneliness. He could form as many relationships as he wanted, could bond as deeply as he had with Lochan, but still he felt alone.
Alone, alone, alone. But if he could find Lochan in this dark, would that heart wrenching feeling be cured? How long would he be craving touch and affection before that hole in his heart was filled?
Ashamin ran through the labyrinth until he could run no more and the greenery became too thick. He crashed and forced his way through the branches, gritting his dull teeth as he resisted nature's force. He would find Lochan, he had to.
He could not lose all senses again. Not now when he was so vulnerable. He wore his mask like a monster and his heart like a father, or son. Which one was he? His sarong--unknotted--fluttered and snagged. Soon it would be useless, if he didn't get it mended. Soon he would try and hang it on the wall of his cave and it would fall like rags from a wound.
Wounds, wounds... everything felt like a new one. Ashamin could barely see, was forcing himself to think and stay cool, and his companion was gone. Was there any wound greater than that failure to understand?
A rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning bathed the scene in light and blinded the skull-masked haruspex. Lochan had to be near, he had to close and safe. But how would Ashamin find him now?
A S H A M I N
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
