I typed this up on my Ipod last night while waiting for sleep to hit. I totally didn’t mean for it to end up like how it was now, and it’s not even done I believe. I’ll finish it whenever the inspiration to comes.
——Fiction Starts Here——-
Blood and fire. Fire and blood.
That’s all that Companion knew of his past or his life outside of the Circle. He didn’t mind it, but it did seem sort of bothersome to wake up trembling and staring at his hands like they belonged to the Maker himself.
It was also bothersome to deal with the sudden pains on the left side of his scarred face.
But he dealt with it. Who wouldn’t? Beside those who took pity on him. They didn’t count.
He couldn’t keep count on how many times Aki looked up towards him with eyes so young, and touched the scarred side of his face with sympathy. He also couldn’t keep count of the many nights he felt guilty laying beside her.
There was always something different that happened to him each day to change his outlook on the light itself. He never figured out if it was the odd spells the novice’s did to one another to play tricks. Or the spell he felt when the ash of the evening manage to seep in.
He hated how nights were when he was alone. The thoughts that he always manage to forget during the day that seem to flood in at speeds he couldn’t fandom. Thoughts that made him feel sick to the stomach.
Thoughts that made him want to end himself.
He could never end himself. Even if his hands tried and his body shake and quivered to.
Companion couldn’t do much on his own, he was starting to realize. Let it be doing complex magic that were child’s play once upon a time, or feelings mutual feelings about his peers.
He was also starting to realize that her hair was reminding him of the blood and fire of his past. Let it be from the ash-sent it seemed to bring or the orange colour of it, it drove him mad. So mad, that sometimes he found himself over top of her. That sometimes he couldn’t stop himself from crying.
He was starting to hate himself. That was something he knew from the start of it all. The way his ear was oddly chipped, the way he spoke - he hated it all. What he didn’t hate was how he knew all that was about her. How he knew he was the only one who could protect her from her fears.
Yes, he himself. But for the wrong reasons.