denial, denial is all that I’ve known, holding me hostage I’m never alone

“Eventually you'll wake up,” the voice sounded odd - distant, almost like an echo of a memory. Luthais felt the fog thicken around his head as he blinked bleerily. The usual chirpy chime of his companion that followed his waking was silent. He stilled, brow furrowed. In fact everything seemed oddly silent.

“Elior?” his voice cracked as he raised his head slowly. A strange weakness creeped through his body as he shifted gently. It was dark, but he could make out the distant sound of wind rustling the treetops. Night, than, and he was outside as well. His ears gave a gentle flick as he blinked again. Where was that small parasite? Usually she would be voicing her sing-song complaints by now. With another slow shake of his head, Luthais took a glance down towards himself.

He was whole - thankfully - but the scarf he usually donned was notably gone. He suspected the pink scars the material usually covered were completely on display. Swallowing hard he shifted once more and brought his legs close to him. “Elior, this isn’t funny,” he tried again as he pushed himself to stand. There was a moment his body wavered, unbalanced. Where was he? This forest felt strange and almost numbed. He couldn’t feel the ebb and flow of magic that he could usually beckon.

Alarm slowly filled him as he turned around again to look for his small companion. But again he couldn’t hear her miniscule voice. His dark eyes widened with realization. He was alone here. His small companion - a mantis - was gone. His magic was gone. Everything was gone. “No,” he gasped quietly. Spinning around he looked back and forth between the endless trees.

His vision blurred and his steps felt unsteady. The usual coursing of magic he relied upon was completely cut off. His world felt strange - something vital was severed and he was left to adjust. This wasn’t what he wanted when he asked for a new start. Swallowing against the panic, Luthais tried to calm his breathing. His expression was carefully schooled back into that of neutrality.

The chaotic feelings were still a storm inside of him.

What kind of land was this to have stripped him so? He felt exposed and raw. His scarf, his magic, and even his companion were lost. He could only hope that Elior was safe. The cruel twist of a witch’s lips flickered through his mind. Trickster. His sides heaved with labored breaths as he tried to keep himself balanced. Luthais could only hope that the weakness in his limbs were wear off soon.

luthais,

art by vivaliis