You stare blankly, your mind waiting for something, anything, to click into place and make sense. Mesec's face is apologetic, his grief sincere, but you cannot see it through the hazy place inside your mind where you've now retreated, desperately unsettled and deeply hurt. Why remains the primary question: why did he do it, why did you let him, why did you forget? Because now you remember everything, every bite and every scream, every bit of hope in your heart being steadily snuffed out by those snapping teeth. What were you thinking, you wonder, dashing in like an imbecile to try and save your friend from himself?
But then, what other choice did you have? Your nature permitted no recourse.
I'm sorry, he tells you, the words swimming around your murky brain like so many fish, nipping at neurons that refuse to fire. Explanations follow, but you are too numb to care, too deaf to hear. They are insignificant now, though in a little crevice of your shattered heart they do matter. Somewhere you are processing this, the look on his face, the anguish in his eyes, and reflecting on the anguish that seems to stalk the ones you love. His expression is Isopia's after her confession, Ma's after her return, and something about it pierces your haze and sticks there, quivering, waiting for you to notice and make sense of it.
But you can't. Not yet.
You take a deep breath, the air shuddering as it slides down your throat, and do not look at Mesec. He thinks he doesn't deserve your forgiveness, that you can't forgive him, but that's not the problem, is it? The problem is that you don't blame him, never have - you never could, for to ascribe blame would be to designate intentionality to Mesec's actions, and that is something your small mind cannot take. Mesec is your friend, your family; and just as you could not recognize the beast in him then, so do you deny his culpability now. This, however, presents a new challenge: you have nowhere to pin your betrayal, no one to release your hurt and anger upon. For despite it all you do feel betrayed, do hurt and rage at the injustice cast upon you- not by him, nor even by Ma, but by the world, a world you once believed to be bright and beautiful, but now can only see in dreary shades of grey.
You kind of see the key, but again, it's hard to focus. It's hard to focus on anything right now. "How do you fix it?" you wonder in a whisper, boyish voice cracking with the weight of your pain. "Sometimes I think there's a crack in the world, and all of the sadness and bad things come out of there, and I keep trying and trying, but I can't ever make it shut."
When did things get so dark, so hard? You used to be Zèklè the Lightning Boy, Badass of the Dragon's Throat, Seeker of Answers and Adventurer Extraordinaire. You lived a simple life of simple needs, always ready to find the next big question, always safe in your knowledge that nothing would ever really change. But now...
Now there are only questions, only change, and everything is complicated, and you just want it to end.
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